Busyness and Distraction—Not So Modern, Very Human

A friend of mine recently mentioned an ancient writer that I was shocked by how intriguing I found him. If you haven’t ever heard of Gregory of Tours, don’t worry—neither had I. He was a 6^th bishop in what was then Gaul (nowFrance). He wrote on the history of religious practices in Gaul.

Gregory’s main concern in many of his writings was one that surprised me: people were too busy to pray. Really? In 6^th century Gaul? But hey had no digital distractions, no long work commutes, no after school extracurricular activities to which their children needed shuttling.

The concerned bishop rued that prayer was “irregular, lukewarm, sparsely attended, and, if I may say so, full of yawns, with people often slipping away for meals or being too busy and intent on their own private affairs to attend." Even when they did show up for mass and prayer services, they didn’t seem engaged but preoccupied and distracted. I realized in reading this that I consider busyness and distraction modern maladies, but maybe they are merely human ones.

So, what was Gregory’s solution? This is what’s really interesting. The solution wasn’t to expect less from his congregants but more! He supported a movement begun in the previous century called the Gallic Rogations—days of public prayer, fasting, and lament. And these events could take many hours during a workday!

And there markable thing is that asking more of his congregations rather than compromising his expectations seemed to work (at least somewhat) in many ways!One thing this move did was take the act of prayer out of the church. Congregants would process through the city petitioning God for blessing on their community. In this way, prayer and religious devotion were ways of connecting people even more intimately together.

Another consequence of this was at least a brief glimpse of social equality. The public processions included both rich and poor, men and women, masters and servants.All of them hungry from the fast, all feet bruised from the penitence of the holy march. All of them taking time away from the busyness of their own lives and affairs to focus on the individual and corporate human relationship withGod.

This unlikely solution to the parishioners slumped in their pews, distracted from their prayers, calls to mind the poet David Whyte’s observation: “The antidote to exhaustion is not necessarily rest. The antidote to exhaustion is wholeheartedness." By engaging more of their hearts, bodies, and time, the area churches in Gregory’s bishopric seemed to experience a fresh engagement.

Since busyness and distraction seem to be human plights, I am grateful for the human willingness to experiment with ways to move beyond our schedules and to-do lists, beyond the mundane. How might we take Bishop Gregory’s perseverance inprayer and faith and call ourselves and others to a higher standard?

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