Robert Lowery

In the thirty-four years I have served at the seminary in Lincoln, Illinois I have had what I describe as two and a half sabbaticals. The half-sabbatical was taken from May, 1982 through August, 1983 when I worked on my Ph.D. at the University of Aberdeen in Aberdeen, Scotland. It was a whirlwind of a sabbatical because I tried to squeeze in as much study as possible. The second was granted to me from June, 2005 through the end of that year and the result was my first book, Revelation’s Rhapsody: Listening to the Lyrics of the Lamb. I believe it was my first true sabbatical where I had time to recharge and write without feeling under pressure to produce. The third began in June of 2009 and ended on December 31.

What I did on my second full sabbatical can be answered in three short sentences: I prayed. I played. I planned.

I Prayed

Pray without ceasing — I Thessalonians 5:17

I use the word “pray” as a metaphor to describe what I did with regard to ministry and in light of a life-changing announcement. Although everything I do I try to bathe in prayer, it is especially in the area of my teaching-preaching-writing-mentoring ministry that I pray.

I taught a summer school class on how to read the New Testament as literature.

I prayed by reading some of my favorite authors: William Barclay, Craig Blomberg, F.F. Bruce, I.H. Marshall, Scot McKnight, J.R.W. Stott, and N.T. Wright.

I prayed by teaching for TCM International for the seventeenth summer, this time having the privilege of students from Moldova and the Czech Republic study biblical eschatology with me.

I prayed by preaching and teaching Revelation in a handful of communities: Springfield, Illinois; Mahomet, Illinois; Morton, Illinois; Warsaw, Indiana; Higbee, Missouri; and Mechanicsville, Virginia.

I prayed by completing my first year as a member of the Board of Directors of TCM International.

I prayed by contributing the study notes on I John and Revelation for a new edition of The Quest Study Bible (Zondervan, forthcoming in 2010).

I prayed by working on my commentary, a sequel to my first volume. It is tentatively entitled Revelation’s Rhapsody: Dancing to the Lyrics of the Lamb, and it will focus on how Revelation serves as a discipleship handbook by guiding us how to live between the first coming of Jesus and his final glorious appearing. I completed the rough draft on Revelation 1-12 and hope to be finished with the volume in early summer, 2010.

I prayed by working on my courses for Spring, 2010 (Developing a Biblically Grounded Ministry, Biblical Interpretation for Ministry, and Special Studies in Revelation). Much reading was done and lesson plans were revised or created.

I prayed by attending Camp Logos in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, where I had the privilege of being introduced to Logos4, the newest Bible study version from Logos Bible Study Software based in Bellingham, Washington. (I regret that I still have not received “Camper of the Week” award from the teacher of those camps, Morris Proctor!)

I prayed by posting occasional reflection pieces on my website, rlowery.com, a site personally funded and maintained by my friend and colleague, Michael Gowin. It is dedicated to my work on the Book of Revelation in particular and the study of Scripture in general.

And of course, I prayed while in the hospital and in waiting rooms in doctor’s offices. The life-changing announcement was that I have cancer. In the past six months I have spent more money and more time on health issues than I have in the first sixty years of my life. Many hours have been spent in reading Scripture, praying, and reflecting. I have deeply appreciated the prayer-support and words of encouragement from many on campus. Especially, Paul Boatman’s pastoral visits and phone calls were a blessing.

I Played

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. . . a time to laugh . . . and a time to dance . . . and a time to embrace . . . a time seek . . . a time to keep . . . a time to keep silence . . . a time to love . . .a time for peace. – Ecclesiastes 3:1ff.

I played with my family. My wife and I went to Disney World along with our daughter and her husband and our two granddaughters, Carissa and Jocelyn, to celebrate our daughter’s graduation from college and my wife’s retirement from working for the state of Illinois. And we played hard. I became a child once again.

I played when I attended concerts by Brian Wilson (founder of the Beach Boys), Willie Nelson, John Mellencamp, the WiYos, Snow Patrol, U2 (the world’s greatest rock and roll band), and, of course, Bob Dylan (the poet laureate of rock and roll)—six times alone during those six months, always reminding my wife that Dylan is an acquired taste and once acquired, you want to keep revisiting the well.

I played when I walked four miles a day on my Nordic Track. I figure I have walked at least 1000 miles in the last six months.

I played when I read novels or short stories by my favorite authors: John Grisham, Dean Koontz, Daniel Silva, David Baldacci, Wendell Berry, John Irving, and Stephen King, John Updike, to name just a few.

I played when I revisited every Western Clint Eastwood has ever made, from the old television series Rawhide up through Gran Torino (a modern day Western!). My favorite remains The Outlaw Josey Wales.

I played when I drove to Pana on a regular just to spend time with my granddaughters, Carissa and Jocelyn and I played when I drove to Elgin, Illinois, to hold in my arms the first time my granddaughter, Eden Grace, my son’s and his wife’s first child. Eden Grace, what stories I hope to tell her in the years ahead, stories about Eden and about Grace, Jesus.

I Planned

Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit’—yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.’ As it is, you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil. So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin. – James 4:13-17

During the six months I was reminded once again that my livelihood may depend upon my employment at Lincoln Christian University, but my life does not.

But as I prayed and played, I planned. “If the Lord wills . . . “ I have been humbled by the specter of a disease that is likely to bring this life to an end, only God knows when. But if the Lord wills I want to continue to pray and to play and even to plan.

One of my favorite writers is Nancy Gibbs. She writes occasional essays for Time, and I could not help but “baptize” her reflections published in the September 21, 2009 issue. The piece was entitled “Time Will Tell” and emphasized that we can learn a lot from how the past saw the future—and imagining how the future will see us. I could not help but be influenced by my own health issues as I read her insights. She wrote: “The past’s power comes from experience, the lessons it dares us to dismiss on the grounds that maybe things will be different this time. The future’s power is born of experiment, and the endless grudge match between fear and hope.” She acknowledged the swirling conversations and debates in our society, from health care reform to what to do in Afghanistan, and she wrote: “It’s tempting to just stand stock still and squeeze your eyes and wait for the moment to pass, or else hoard canned goods and assume the worst.”

I confess that I have been tempted to squeeze my eyes and pretend that bad things really cannot happen to fairly good people. I have even been tempted to hoard canned goods and withdraw. We are all terminal, but even in nodding to this truth, it does not mean that we become paralyzed. As a follower of Jesus, how dare I do so? But knowing that ultimately the future belongs to God and to the faithful helps me respond to the present.

So, in the spirit of James 4, “If the Lord wills . . . “

I look forward to returning to the classroom and to serving as Dean in the Seminary.

I look forward to returning to Eastern Europe for the eighteenth summer to teach.

I look forward to preaching and teaching in a variety of settings, from local congregations to conferences and conventions, to college campuses.

I look forward to leading a trip, along with Paul Boatman, to Greece and Turkey in late 2010 or early 2011.

I look forward to finishing my second book and begin working on a third one.

I look forward spending time with my family and with friends.

I even look forward to my next sabbatical in the Fall of 2015 and hope to continue serving here for another ten years, Lord willing.

Gibbs reminded me that I live with this “endless grudge match between fear and hope.” But hope is winning. Hope is the confident expectation that the promises of God cannot be anything else but true. His grace has saved me, it has sustained me, and that grace continues to surprise me.

Related posts:

1. What I Did On My Second and a Half Sabbatical