Those who read of these travels might reasonably wonder what the difference is between sabbatical and vacation, especially if (as is very likely) sabbatical is not a phenomenon in their profession.

Like other ministers of Unitarian Universalist congregations, I get three kinds of leave. Vacation, of course (four weeks/year), is to be spent however I like, and requires no justification of any kind. Study leave (also four weeks/year) is part of my contract “in recognition that ministers need extended time away from the stresses and demands of daily congregational life to deepen their calling and develop their skills,” and it “may include, but is not limited to, spiritual retreat, spiritual practices, continuing education, attending conferences and trainings, work-related reading and planning, study groups, writing, pilgrimage, or teaching/preaching at locations away from the minister’s primary congregation.” I am happy to say that UUCPA does not micromanage this time, but as it is meant to improve my conduct of my vocation, reporting on how I spend it is eminently reasonable, as well as a way to model how all of us can “deepen our calling and develop our skills” via activities that are quite distinct from our daily work duties. I list some of my continuing-education and spiritual-development activities in my monthly reports to the Board, and study leave is an expanded opportunity for those. Sabbatical accumulates at one month per year of service, is to be used every 4-6 years, and may be used “for study, education, writing, meditation, and other forms of professional, religious, spiritual, or personal growth.”

I have some study leave and vacation time to use, so at the moment I’m technically on vacation, just as for several days last week, I was technically on study leave, and will soon be on sabbatical. The borders are fairly fluid. For example, nothing I have done in my lifetime is so conducive to spiritual growth as being a parent, but of course I don’t count the tens of thousands of hours of my life actively devoted to parenting as my study time. For another example, travel is profoundly educational, even when I’m traveling for fun. Come to that, one of the things I find most enjoyable is learning, so . . . ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Notwithstanding the indeterminacy of the categories, I do keep a log of the activities that are very much oriented toward study, education, writing, spiritual practices, pilgrimage, and growth. Here it is for the past 12 days.

  • Reading, some completed, some in process: Minor Feelings (Cathy Park Hong), Mansfield Park (Jane Austen), Flowers in the Dark (Tucker Nichols), Oil and Marble (Stephanie Storey)
  • Making art, which is my primary spiritual practice. I brought a sketchbook on this trip and have been drawing almost every day.
  • Exploration of two art exhibits: Time Space Existence, a fascinating variety of architectural proposals for living sustainably and creating more equal and just communities, was one of many exhibits adjacent to the Venice Biennale (the Biennale is actually now an annual event, focused on architecture in odd years and art in even years). The permanent collection, Africa 1:1, and the Gemma de Angelis Testa Donation, at Ca’ Pesaro in Venice. I’ve already commented on how affected I was by one painting (I’ve tried to hunt down the name of the artist with no success); another piece that has stayed with me is one by Bill Viola, a video artist whose work I often love. I don’t remember the title, though I liked the curator’s comment that the piece evoked the myth of Narcissus. The top half was a woman shown waist-up, and the bottom half was an inverted image of a man also shown waist-up, so that they met in the middle, rather like the top and bottom half of the king, queen, or jack on a playing card. Their expressions, which also mirrored each other, changed in slow motion (as is typical of Viola). When I began watching, they each had an ambiguous expression, maybe pain, or desire, or sexual ecstasy. Each bent forward, their faces disappearing briefly, and reemerged streaming with water–I agreed with the commentary that it was rather like Narcissus bending to kiss an image, but that rather than meeting each other, this bending resulted in each touching only his/her own image and the surface of the water. From that point their expressions spoke of agony. I wish I had watched the whole loop, which for all I know ran for half an hour or more. Moral, twice taught: if you’re interested in a piece, jot down the title and artist or snap a picture of the information card . . .
  • Research and writing on Yael (often anglicized as Jael), with inchoate thoughts of artistic, political, and spiritual explorations of this snippet of history/myth from the book of Judges.

Not recorded here, but sadly true: tying up several loose ends that I didn’t manage to tie before my “last day” of work. Almost done with those.