Slow Productivity

No Greater Joy

Joy Fathers, where do you find joy? In your team winning? In a raise at work? In a well-deserved vacation? In a tree stand on an autumn’s morning? I’m not here to heckle you about any of those things—I think these, and many other places, are perfectly legitimate sources of joy. But where do you find your deepest joy? To answer that question biblically I’d direct your attention to a brief letter in the New Testament: 3 John. 3 John 3-4, 3 For I rejoiced greatly when the brothers came and testified to your truth, as indeed you are walking in the truth. 4 I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth. Walking in the Truth In seeking to understand John’s words in these verses, we should first ask what he means by “walking in the truth.” It’s not a complex idea, but it’s an important one. John, in his first epistle, has three running tests to help Christians evaluate whether they in fact have salvation. There’s a doctrinal test—do you believe in the right Jesus? Namely, do you believe that Jesus of Nazareth is the Christ—the promised Messiah? Do you believe he is the Son of God? Do you believe he is the only Savior who can make you right with God? Good. That’s test one. Second, do you live the right way? That is not to say you must meet some standard of perfection—remember, part of what we believe about Jesus is that he is the Savior—but if you believe in him, then your life will start to change. You will walk in the light as he is in the light. You will embrace a life of repentance and obedience. If that’s you, then you’ve also passed the moral test. Third, there is the love test. Do you love the people of God, the brotherhood of believers? If you are to love the unseen God that will necessarily include loving his visible people, his children—your brothers and sisters. I think when John says walking in the truth here, this is exactly what he means. He’s heard the report of some people in the church walking in truth (2 John 4). They are living the Christian life to the full, trusting in Jesus, repenting of their sins and pursuing obedience, and loving one another. And this reality brings John joy. In fact, he says that he has no greater joy than to know his children are walking in truth. Too Far? Now, if you’ve been in church long enough, you might think that John has gotten a little carried away with his rhetoric. Shouldn’t his greatest joy be in his personal salvation? His own walk with Christ? Shouldn’t his identity in Christ trump all his other concerns, even whether or not those whom he loves are themselves walking in the truth? Jesus + nothing = everything, right? That sounds pretty pious. It sounds like the sort of thing you’d hear in a sermon or on a Christian podcast. Your personal relationship with Jesus is the most important thing. You shouldn’t look anywhere else for your joy. Here’s the deal, though. The Bible, that is, the B.I.B.L.E, paints a more complicated picture. Hear the words of the Apostle Paul: Romans 9:2-3, I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh. Here, it seems Paul is giving us the inverse of John’s statement in 3 John 4—his greatest sorrow is knowing that his kinsmen are cut off from Christ by their unbelief. They are not walking in the truth, and thus are not safe in Christ. Paul then goes so far as to wish that he himself were cut off if it would mean salvation for his kinsmen! This is a profound love, and it displays a deeply biblical principle: our love for others and concern for their wellbeing is intertwined with our own experience of joy. To be sure, the apostle Paul writes, I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him (Philippians 3:9-10). The Lord Jesus asks, rhetorically, For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul? (Matthew 16:26). But these are statements relativizing the value of transient and earth-bound goods. Friends, human beings are not transient or earth bound. Human beings, made in the image of God, will outlast the sun, the moon, and the stars. And those for whom you have a deep responsibility—your spouse and children—rightly hold a special place in your heart, and their well-being is rightly tied to your experience of joy. For a pastor, this tie extends to those in our spiritual charge, the members of the church. So Paul writes of the daily pressure of his anxiety for all the churches (2 Corinthians 11:28). The spiritual wellbeing of those in our charge is not the bedrock of our joy—Christ himself is the Rock on which we stand. When things are not well with those we love we cling to the Rock who is Christ, for he will hold us fast through those times of storm. But, again, to look to Jesus directly, we see him weeping over Jerusalem. He would have gathered the people of the land as a hen gathers her chicks, and he was heartbroken over their refusal to come (Matthew 23:37). So, let me say again: John is right to value his children walking in truth as his greatest earthly joy. This joy is not an idolization of the family (or the church family), it is a right experience of joy in Christ’s work in the life of others. Which is a long way of saying: joy in Jesus is a communal reality, not merely an individual one. The next post will consider some of the ways 3 John helps us see how to help our children walk in the truth. Stopping to Think is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. 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Joseph as a Type

From Prisoner to Prince: The Joseph Story in Biblical Theology Samuel Emadi (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2022) I came to this book with high expectations. I have been a (fairly) regular listener to the “Bible Talk” podcast that Emadi cohosts with Alex Duke and Jim Hamilton, since 2020. Familiar with him from that podcast, I knew Emadi has a keen eye for detail and structure in the Biblical text. The central thesis of this book is that Joseph’s story, if read carefully and canonically, serves as a type or a foreshadowing of a greater Joseph figure to come. That is, Joseph can legitimately be seen as a type of Christ. As I read, I was both delighted and disappointed. I was delighted in just the ways hinted at above — rigorous attention to the text. The early part of the book defines biblical theology and typology. Emadi then sets the Joseph story within the toledot structure of Genesis, and spends successive chapters examining Joseph’s place in relationship to the covenant promises of kingship, seed, land and blessing. The final two chapters examine the Joseph story as it is explicated or alluded to in both the OT and the NT. The discussion is meaty, nuanced, and to borrow from DA Carson’s preface, “interlocking and cumulative…finally convincing.” The disappointment is perhaps unfair. Emadi is a clear and compelling verbal communicator, and so I was hoping for a compelling writing style, maybe some sparkling turns of phrase — and that’s definitely not this book. The further I read, the more I thought “this reads like a PhD dissertation.” And indeed, as it turns out, Emadi’s 2016 dissertation [https://repository.sbts.edu/entities/publication/1b67f334-5afd-430b-b5ae-46a11081f983] from the SBTS is on this very subject, and most of the chapters overlap. Which explains why there are north of 400 footnotes in a 150 page book. So, in sum — this book is very worthwhile for someone preaching on Joseph or interested in reading a careful and nuanced example of a typological reading. It is quite thorough, and yes, convincing. Just know it won’t be your easiest read of the week. Stopping to Think is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit willdole.substack.com/subscribe [https://willdole.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_2]

Slow Productivity

Slow Productivity The Lost Art of Accomplishment Without Burnout Cal Newport (New York: Portfolio/Penguin, 2024) In the latest of his books relating to knowledge work, Cal Newport sets forth a vision of productivity which is deeply counter-cultural and, for many, counter-intuitive. Newport argues that much of modern knowledge work is dominated by a frenzied pseudo-productivity, in which visible activity is the primary means of measuring useful effort (22). What this means, functionally, is that if you are quick to reply to texts, emails, slack messages, and phone calls, then everyone (especially your boss) will see how busy you are, and that will translate into you being seen as a good employee. Regardless of whether you genuinely produce anything of value. Newport rightly sees that this is a completely nonsensical way to work. All of this fractured attention makes it nearly impossible to produce genuinely valuable work. The nature of this hyperactive pseudo-productivity means we’re tempted — nay, compelled — to be plugged into this work all the time. So we’re checking emails at our kids’ baseball games, taking our laptops on vacation, and sleeping with work plugged in within arms reach. But this doesn’t make us more productive. It doesn’t help us produce rare or lasting or valuable work. It just keeps us busy. There is a better way. Enter Slow Productivity. After briefly examining the problem, Newport spends the bulk of the book on three long chapters, each devoted to a core tenet of his slow-productivity philosophy: Do Fewer Things, Work at a Natural Pace, and Obsess Over Quality. Do Fewer Things “Do Fewer Things” feels radical in an age where we are bombarded at every turn with opportunities, demands, and expectations that more and more will be added to our plates. But doing fewer things is based on the acknowledgement that most of us have a very narrow range of activities that “move the needle,” as it were. For me, this primarily means studying and people-ing. There are, of course, admin tasks that must be handled. Newport has helpful advice (that won’t be new to you if you listen to his podcast). But he also has helpful advice on those big, important tasks. Such as, work on fewer things at a time (60-74). He also suggests taming your daily goals (75-76), which may be one of the most revolutionary and freeing ideas in the book for my life. I shouldn’t try to write a sermon, a newsletter post, and a paper today. I can batch study for those things together, but when I need to do the most cognitively demanding thing — writing — I should focus on one task per day. One more piece of advice in this section that resonated was his exhortation to hire professionals to do things you could but shouldn’t do. Spending money — on professionals, or good software that simplifies your life — can be invaluable in trying to find focus. Embrace the Natural In his second principle, Newport encourages the reader to work at a natural pace. The core insight here is that human beings are not machines, and mental work is fundamentally different than factory, assembly-line labor. Our brains do not produce widgets, and require rhythms of rest, seasonality, and reprieve in order to produce their best work. I was reminded of Douglas Wilson’s insight that we should desire to be fruitful like a tree (Psalm 1), not efficient like a machine. I was also pondering this as a pastor, and thinking about the value of having time to stew on a message. One thing I’ve started doing is trying to read in preparation for sermon series 6-12 months in the future. That way, even if that isn’t fresh in my mind, I’m not staring at the passage and thinking about it as a sermon text for the first time four days before I’m standing up to say, “thus says the LORD.” By having the text in my meditative consciousness for months on end I’m able to iterate different ways of structuring, illustrating, explaining, or applying a sermon. This principle also applies to my other writing, too. Rather than trying to dash off a paper or a newsletter post, starting early enough that I have time to stew always improves the quality of the final product. Some of Newport’s advice here is gold. “Double Your Project Timelines” and “Simplify Your Workday” (131-135) were particularly helpful. Though I can’t yet implement everything he suggests, there are pieces that I obviously need to — like scheduling study time in a way that treats it as almost sacrosanct. A large portion of this chapter was essentially devoted to the idea of seasonality and how to create seasons — even small ones — in your life. The practical tips were useful, but it did just make me think, over and over, how wise our ancestors were to have seasons of work, seasons of rest, and seasons of feasting and joy. Read through the Torah with an eye to rest and parties, and you’ll be surprised. Quality is What Counts The final element of Newport’s Slow Productivity philosophy is “obsess over quality.” And honestly, it’s the point that makes the book work. There’s a certain type of laziness that could find cover in the importance of “Do Fewer Things” (phew!) and “Work at a Natural Pace” (as little as possible!) — but would choke on this last point. Obsessing over quality doesn’t mean a perfectionism that refuses to “ship” work, but it does mean really caring about what you produce. As he does throughout the book, Newport draws on individual stories to draw general principles or lessons — and here he focuses heavily on the recording artist Jewel, who epitomizes a “focus on quality over quick” (170). The reality of such prioritizing sometimes means you will miss opportunities (173). But if you do, in fact, produce quality work, you will likely have something more important than short-term opportunities — long-term options. Such a pursuit will require cultivating taste (182-186), honest feedback (189-191), and real sacrifice (194-193, 205-208). It will also, at some point, require you to get clear on what you’re really trying to do. In regard to this, there was a line in this chapter that grabbed me, when Newport was discussing his own study of films, particularly Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs. “Studying Tarantino, however, I realized that working with lower genre tropes when pursuing higher ends, if given the right formal attention, can be a powerful creative enterprise” (188, emphasis mine). That, I thought, is what my writing life is all about. I want to put the theology of Augustine and Luther and Calvin in the vernacular of the plumber and the mailman and the farmer. I want to take the interest in philosophy and theology and ethics that I find on Substack and put it in language that would communicate on Facebook. But that project is a lot harder than it sounds. It doesn’t come in snatches of time here and there, squeezed into the frenzied pace of life given to pseudo-productivity. If I’m going to do the work I’m meant to do, it will require a willingness to go deep, and go slow. It’s time to do fewer things. It’s time to work at a natural pace. It’s time to obsess over quality. Stopping to Think is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Thanks for reading Stopping to Think! This post is public so feel free to share it. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit willdole.substack.com/subscribe [https://willdole.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_2]

Adoption

This is a free preview of a paid episode. To hear more, visit willdole.substack.com [https://willdole.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_7] Adoption is the giftof being brought in.My life must now shift—He has taken my sin,

Strategically Small

Brandon J. O’BrienThe Strategically Small Church2nd Edition, Baker Academic, 2025 Stopping to Think is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Brandon O’Brien argues in this book for a different ministry paradigm than has been the norm in evangelicalism over the past 50 (plus) years. Rather than seeing “small” churches as anomalies, or problems to be fixed, small churches are the norm both globally and historically. Therefore, we must alter our perceptions. Instead of viewing the small church with a scarcity mindset (“we don’t have the talent, the budget, the facilities, etc., to do effective ministry”), we should instead see our normal churches as loved and graced by God with everything necessary to please him. O’Brien devotes one chapter to giving examples from few large ministries attempting to “get small” in order to be more effective. The upshot of this is that your normal church already is small, and therefore positioned for effectiveness. He then goes on to discuss the authenticity of a fully local (as opposed to regional) church, the value of being focused and program-lite (he uses the term nimble), the opportunities small churches have to empower community ministry, the immense value of cross-generational relationships, and the unique characteristics of worship in a small church. O’Brien’s style is engaging—he does a good job of writing about ministries in various settings in a way that invites you to consider the possibilities in your own context. I often skip stories in non-fiction books because they feel like a ham-fisted way to connect with the reader or an easy way to puff an article-length idea into a full book. Not so here. Whether the congregations in question are Lutherans in western Washington or Baptists in southern Arkansas, O’Brien helps you catch a glimpse of how God is at work in congregations all over the place. That “all over the place” is theological, not simply numeric or cultural. O’Brien operates in this book with what he calls a “minimally viable ecclesiology” (p. 21) and will later refer to a “minimally viable theology of worship” (p. 115). That might bother you. It would bother me in a theology class, an elders meeting, or a sermon. But in the context of what he is doing with this book—trying to shake loose your dusty paradigms about church health and success—I could get past my own disagreements and value the lessons there were to learn, even from those with whom I profoundly disagree. In the end, I share O’Brien’s vision of the normal church. These churches may be poorly positioned, much of the time, to attract religious consumers. But they have been given by God himself everything they need to make disciples. And, “[t]he church’s God-given job description is to make disciples, not to attract consumers.” This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit willdole.substack.com/subscribe [https://willdole.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_2]