On Fallow Ground

When I was in seminary, I had the gift of taking my intro to preaching class from Dr. William Turner, who served as the lead pastor at a local Baptist church even while teaching at Duke. I went on to take as many more preaching classes as I could fit (which still feels like it wasn’t enough—I understand the advice given by another seminary mentor, who said I should try to take as many preaching classes as possible while in school). Still, though, some of the most powerful and lasting lessons I learned about preaching I learned from Dr. Turner.

One of those lessons was about fallow ground. Dr. Turner said in preparing a sermon, you need to research, prepare, then step away. You need to leave space (fallow ground) for God’s spirit to move. 

To speak, you first must find your silence.

I am beginning my 10th year in full-time ministry, and those years have indeed taught me the value of this fallow ground. My best sermons have been those where I have found (or rather, created) silence and fallow ground.

I have also learned, though, that fallow ground is hard to come by in ministry. For many of the same reasons the idea of fallow ground seems absurd to those unfamiliar with farming. You’ve got a good field—why leave it bare? Why let it sit?! It’s not good for anything that way!

Of course, the problem is that fields wear out. Their nutrients become depleted. Certain crops speed this. Modern farming techniques have ways to minimize the need for fallow ground—things like crop rotation, adding nutrients, etc. But all things in creation seem built with some sort of need for rest—whether for a season or for many seasons. Most plants do not bear fruit year round—and their season of rest is needed to allow them to bear fruit at other times.

Ministry is like that. And it is very difficult, in the midst of the rushing of life and ministry to find to find fallow times and seasons of rest. 

When I started out in ministry, my father gave me advice. Dad didn’t give me too much advice, and generally only solicited advice. I think I had been asking him what schedule or pattern he used for pastoral visitation. At my first appointment, my schedule was not packed and I could have visited quite frequently that first year. My father shared what he did, but he also passed along this broader advice: don’t try to make yourself busy…there will be times you will have no rest, and you will be running constantly. Work hard, but don’t feel the need to create a hectic schedule when you are in a quiet season. The busy season will come (and don’t get into habits in a resting season that you can’t maintain other times).

In ministry, as in some other fields, there is a tradition of Sabbath leave, generally after a certain number of years. This seems a luxury to many, and in ways it is. And yet, clergy are constantly expected to bear fruit. Just think about the expectations of the weekly sermon (and some have to prepare more than one sermon a week). You need some fallow ground to let that simmer. You could probably learn to notice when your pastor has not had fallow ground…when they’ve been running all week and managed to drag their sermon along with them to Sunday morning.

There’s no magic trick to find fallow ground, and get the rest you need. This is true not only for pastors, but for all people. Some weeks are just busy. And some are not. But resting times rarely present themselves. And in the midst of all of these things, life happens. A life that is only peripherally concerned about your to do lists and a life that presses on no matter the season.

This week, I am sure there are things busying you, whether you are a pastor, a parent, a teacher finishing break (or getting back to school), a office manager, a friend, a son, a spouse…

But I challenge you to make some fallow ground. Something beyond just rest…something that is empty of busy-ness, of expectations, of words, so that God can meet you in that fallow place and fill you. Prepare you. For fruit and harvest yet to come. God meets us in powerful ways in our fallow times. Sit there a while. The rest will be there when you’re done. But I promise you will find yourself renewed and indeed refreshed.

See you on the other side of your fallow place!