I wonder if you’ve ever heard about the “Right to Disconnect”? It’s a campaign being waged by “Prospect”, the trade union for scientists, civil servants and other professionals. They claim that remote working has led to people working for longer each day, which increases their risk of stress and burnout and makes it harder for them to draw a clear line between ‘work’ and ‘leisure’ time. The union is calling for the government to give employees a legally binding “right to disconnect” which would ban bosses from routinely emailing or calling their staff outside set working hours. It could even lead to messages sent at these times being automatically deleted in order to deter off-duty staff from constantly checking their inboxes.
A law like that might seem fanciful and impractical, and not everyone agrees that it would be a good thing: the world of work is changing and many people value the flexibility that digital working offers. Nevertheless the right to disconnect has been enshrined in law for four years in France, where companies with more than 50 employees must agree specific hours for their “teleworkers”. Some other countries including Italy, Chile and Argentina have introduced similar laws, while Ireland recently brought in a code of practice which gives people the right to not be penalised if they refuse to attend to work matters out of hours, and tells employers to remind their staff that they don’t have to reply to out of hours emails. And some big German companies have taken their own steps, using technology itself to underpin their policies: for example non-management staff at Volkswagen can’t access work email on their smartphones between 18.15 and 07.00.
In a sense this is a new twist on a problem which has existed for years. There are companies where it has been expected that everyone will come in early and leave late to show their enthusiasm and, of course, gain favour with the bosses. And there are occupations where “being on call” at unsociable hours is inevitable, although it isn’t always managed well: Moira, my wife, does get annoyed with me if I make sermon notes or check and reply to emails late at night! What’s important, of course, is to maintain the right balance between work and leisure, the correct rhythm between rushing and resting. Getting this right will actually improve peoples’ work performance; getting it wrong can be disastrous for their physical and mental health.
It’s clear from our Bible reading that the people who clustered around Jesus had no idea of any “Right to disconnect” – not, of course, that the term had been invented! For in the two short passages we heard, which link Jesus’ debrief of the Twelve after they’d concluded their own preaching mission, the feeding of the 5000 and the storm encountered by Jesus and his disciples on the lake, we find that people were constantly seeking him out and seeking to be healed. So, we are told, “many were coming and going, and Jesus and his disciples had no leisure even to eat”; “the people hurried on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them so, as he went ashore, Jesus saw a great crowd;”; and “When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. And wherever Jesus went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the market-places, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak”. This was a period of frenetic activity; Jesus and the disciples may have been delighted at the attention they were getting and by all the good they could do – yet the constant pressure was taking its toll.
We might not think that Jesus ever got tired, although we know that his disciples did as they nodded off in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night before he died! But Jesus must have got footsore, grubby and weary from the constant travelling; he must have been emotionally drained by the clamouring of so many people trying to get his attention; and his meals must have often been eaten “on the run” (and even then often interrupted). He may have enjoyed years of relative tranquillity in the carpenter’s shop at Nazareth: but now he had been plunged into a maelstrom of activity and need. Yes, we believe that Jesus was the Son of God: but we also believe he was fully human. Although we can’t conceive of him snapping rudely at someone asking to be healed at the end of a long day, we can perhaps imagine him raising his eyes to heaven and saying, “What: another one? Just when I’d hoped I could grab a bite to eat and put my feet up – but I must not refuse them”.
On top of the physical burden on Jesus was the emotional one – and I don’t just mean the stress of managing his argumentative disciples! We read how his heart was filled with compassion when he saw the people milling around “like sheep without a shepherd”, so much so that simply couldn’t walk away without giving them words of hope and encouragement. And that feeling of ‘compassion’ was by no means sentimental or superficial: the word used is a strong one which means that he felt ‘gutted’ or almost physically sick as he witnessed the sadness, suffering and despair on the peoples’ faces – think of Michael Buerk in his ground-breaking report from the refugee camp in Ethiopia which prompted Bob Geldof and Midge Ure to put together the “Band Aid” record which raised money from around the world.
And there’s still more. For Jesus – though human – was the Son of God; and the power he used to heal was divine. We might think that it cost him nothing to do that, that he was drawing from a limitless supply of energy – but I don’t think that was in fact the case. For we know that, in the story of the woman who touches Jesus’ cloak in the hope of being healed, he senses power leaving him. We also know that he found some miracles harder to perform than others. So I don’t think it’s too far-fetched to say that there were times when Jesus was completely drained, when he needed to commune in prayer with his heavenly Father in order to recharge his spiritual batteries. Here we can actually see the mystery of the Holy Trinity in action.
We can’t tell if the disciples were as exhausted as Jesus was. They may have been exhilarated by the “buzz” of constant action – but they weren’t the one bearing the brunt of peoples’ demands or actually doing the work. Nevertheless Jesus sees the need for them all to have some peace and quiet, some “down time” as we might say today: so he says, “Come away to a deserted place and rest a while”. (The old King James Version gives this an unintentionally humorous gloss to this by translating it as, “Come ye apart” – I think that Jesus was issuing a call to re-creation, not disintegration!) Of course this ‘cunning plan’ was ruined because people saw the group setting off and gave chase. Nevertheless it shows that, even in the busiest and most stressful of times (probably because it was so busy and stressful), Jesus not only gave his followers permission to step away from the action but actively encouraged them to do so. He knew that a pause was necessary for their well-being, that it would give them the inner strength to carry on.
We have been living in strange times as far as busyness and activity have been concerned. On the one hand the pandemic has laid almost unbelievable pressures on those working in the working in the NHS and in care homes, supermarkets and online warehouses. Delivery drivers have been rushed off their feet, helpers in foodbanks have faced unprecedented demand,s everyone working in schools has had to fight their way through complicated rules and regulations … I could go on. So many people have been facing stress, fatigue and burnout and must have been thinking, for months: “How much longer can I keep going like this?” My heart goes out to them: they need a break.
But there have also been people at the other extreme, who have been furloughed, shielding, made redundant or whose work just dried up overnight. Many of them, virtual prisoners in their homes for months, must have been climbing the walls in frustration, boredom and loneliness. This enforced inactivity has brought about its own stresses, often compounded by financial worries: “Will I ever get back to my job or has my employer gone bust?” These people need a break too – even if it’s just to get outside, go somewhere new and sniff the fresh air. Jesus’ good advice applies to them just as much as to the first group.
I’m not one for “going on retreat” although I know that some people find that very helpful. Nor am I particularly keen on Christian conferences or rallies where you have to chat politely with lots of strangers! But I do recognise that there are times when we simply must switch off and take our rest. And, as I said earlier, that’s not easy in this tyrannical era of mobile phones and WhatsApp: the temptation to “keep in touch” with work and home is almost overwhelming, the sense of being cut off and sidelined if one doesn’t do so is very strong. We might say that modern society needs to recover the idea of Sabbath: not a day of dull inactivity but one which is different from all others. I know that some of you will be tearing your hair out when you hear that because it’s impossible for you: but it’s an aim to aspire to which may just, sometimes, be realised.
Many years ago I read a book about a young missionary who had just arrived in an African city. As she walked down the road with a senior colleague who had lived there for many years, she couldn’t fail to see the suffering of so many people. This upset her, so she turned to her colleague and asked, “How do you cope with such an ocean of need?” The older woman replied, “I don’t. But I can take out my bucketful”. When on earth, Jesus could do no more, although his bucket was clearly much bigger than ours can ever be! And my point is this: even though he was inundated by pleas for help, even though he had immense compassion on those before him, even though he was God’s own Son, Jesus felt free to set that bucket down for a while, without feeling an iota of guilt, when he knew that it was necessary if he were to keep on hauling water. We have that “Right to disconnect”, too.