You Are Not What You Produce! You Are Enough.
By: The Rev. Dr. Rían Adams | St. James Episcopal Church – Port St. Joe, FL
In the name of the God who rests,
who walks beside the weary,
who calls us beloved before we’ve done a thing—Amen.
1. The Lie We All Inhale
We have been catechized by a cruel liturgy:
Work more.
Be everything for everyone.
Serve harder.
Be impressive for and to Jesus.
It whispers in boardrooms, bleeds into sanctuaries, and mutates into Sunday morning perfection—the praise-performer mindset. And the worst part? We start believing it’s holy.
Blessed are the burned-out, for they shall be told to volunteer again.
But here’s the truth, tucked like contraband into the folds of the gospel: You are not what you produce. Not to God. Not ever.
2. The Sabbath as Holy Defiance
The early Anglicans knew this. Thomas Cranmer didn’t just recover worship in English—he restored the sabbath-starved soul of the people. The weekly day of rest wasn’t a break; it was a battle cry.
In the face of empire and Protestant work-ethic hustle, the church calendar whispered rebellion:
You were created for delight. For stillness. For slow holiness.
The Sabbath is God’s reminder that we are creatures, not machines. And yet, here we are, still measuring our value in tasks checked and hours clocked—even in ministry.
3. Jung, the Shadow, and the False Self
Carl Jung saw it coming. He warned that we build a “persona”—a mask for the world—that hides our soul-weariness and projects competence. Church people? We’re excellent mask-makers. We cloak anxiety with service, grief with leadership, loneliness with liturgy.
But Jung also offered this:
“The spiritual journey is not a success story. It is a series of small humiliations of the false self.”
Grace begins not with self-improvement, but self-surrender.
The false self says, “If I do more, I’ll be worthy.”
God says, “You were worthy before you did anything.”
4. C.S. Lewis: Grace Before Growth
C.S. Lewis, bless him, had no time for spiritual achievement charts. He didn’t preach the gospel of hustle. He preached the Gospel of holy belovedness.
“You are not good so that God will love you.
God loves you—and that is what makes you good.”
In Mere Christianity, Lewis points to the absurdity of performance-based faith: It’s like trying to wash the ocean with a sponge. God’s mercy is too deep for that. It reaches into our shame, our unfinished work, our flop-era faith... and still says: Mine.
If you’re waiting to “get it together” before resting—you’ll never rest.
5. Theological Reckoning: Grace Is Not a Salary
Let’s be blunt: the church often preaches grace but rewards hustle.
We affirm Ephesians 2:8—“by grace you have been saved, not of works”—then hand out cookies to whoever volunteers for coffee hour the most. We build our liturgies on mercy and our leadership culture on burnout.
And it’s killing people.
A 2023 Lifeway Research report found that 26% of pastors consider quitting annually due to exhaustion.
Barna reports that only 35% of practicing Christians say their church supports emotional well-being.
This isn’t sustainable. It’s not even biblical. It’s Caesar in a clerical collar.
We’ve turned the gospel of rest into a religious meritocracy.
But here’s the good news: Grace is not deliverables, it’s a resurrection.
6. The Invitation: A Rule of Rest, Not a Ladder of Labor
So what now?
We return to the God who rested.
To the Christ who napped in a boat while storms howled.
To the Spirit who brooded over the deep, unhurried and holy.
We build a grind-resistant gospel for our churches:
We teach sabbath as sacrament, not reward.
We celebrate the small things—showing up, asking for prayer, saying no.
We honor failure as formation, not evidence of faithlessness.
Because here’s the sacred scandal:
You were baptized into belovedness, not busyness! The baptismal font didn’t come with a timecard.
7. Benediction: For the Worn, the Weary, the Waking
May you remember this:
You are not your to-do list.
You are not your productivity.
You are not your spiritual résumé.
You are a mercy-shaped child of God.
You are enough—because Christ is enough.
So take a breath.
Light a candle.
Say no to something today.
And rest—not because you’ve earned it, but because you’re loved.
In the name of the Father,
who made the sabbath.
And the Son,
who became tired like us.
And the Holy Spirit,
who meets us in stillness—
Amen.