I once was a pastor in a church just outside Washington, D.C.—a highly driven, fast-moving congregation. Like most churches in the area, it included government employees, policy consultants, and professionals navigating beltway traffic and high-pressure deadlines.
On my first Sunday there, after the service ended, I did what I’d always done: moved through the fellowship area, smiled, extended my hand, and introduced myself.
But before I could even finish my sentence—
“Hi, I’m Gene, I’m new here…”—
I was met with a rapid-fire reply I would hear more than once:“Yeah, yeah, yeah—what do you want?”
It wasn’t said with malice. But the message was clear:
Don’t waste my time unless you need something. I don’t have it to give.
And eventually, I got it.
These weren’t unkind people.
They were people under pressure.
People with no margins.
People so hurried they didn’t have space to meet a new pastor—unless, of course, there was a problem to fix or a decision to make.
I had grown up in a rural town where making time for conversation was the price of commerce—or of almost anything else. That D.C. moment opened my eyes—and stayed with me ever since.
A Jarring Contrast: The Pace of a Meal
If you’ve ever traveled to Europe, you’ve likely experienced a cultural contrast so sharp it almost feels awkward for Americans: the way people eat.
There, a meal isn’t a quick refuel.
It’s an event.
It’s not a transaction. It’s a table.
People linger. They talk. They eat slowly, often in courses.
And when the food is gone, they stay.
No rush to get the check.
No need to get on to the next thing.
Just… presence.
For many Americans, it’s jarring—because we’ve been conditioned to believe time is only valuable if it’s producing something.
But in that slowness, something we rarely experience begins to emerge:
community.
The Slowest Meal in Scripture
It’s no accident that one of the most formative moments in Jesus’ ministry happened around a table.
In John 13–16, we read the slow unfolding of what we now call the Last Supper—but there’s nothing last-minute or fast-food about it.
Jesus doesn’t rush.
He doesn’t deliver bullet points and wrap it up.
He washes feet.
He speaks tenderly.
He lets the moment stretch on.
This is spiritual formation in real time—not just because of what Jesus says, but because of the pace at which He says it.
The conversation, slow and unforced, was as nourishing as the meal itself.
There’s no spiritual formation without slowing down.
There’s no depth without stillness.
There’s no paying attention to what God is doing if you’re sprinting past your own soul.
What This Series Is About
This week, I want to explore the deeper spiritual illness behind our always-on, always-rushed lives.
We’re not just busy.
We’re infected—with a way of being in the world that is quietly robbing us of presence, peace, and even love.
The phrase “hurry virus” has been used by others before me, including John Mark Comer and others shaped by Dallas Willard’s insights. I offer this series in that spirit—with gratitude, and a fresh angle through the lens of spiritual formation.
This isn’t about better time management.
It’s about recovering the conditions required for spiritual formation.
Because if the core of formation is learning to notice what God is doing…
How can we notice anything when we can’t stop moving?
What’s Ahead This Week
Each day, we’ll trace a new layer of the hurry virus—and what it’s doing to our attention, our relationships, and our souls.
Wednesday: A deep dive into how hurry is breaking down our capacity for connection (drawing on insights from neuroscience)
Thursday: A story from Acts 16—when Paul’s mission met God’s slowdown
Friday: A reflection on what this speed is doing to our minds—and why the renewal of attention may be the first step toward healing
And if you missed it yesterday, here’s a free companion guide to help you begin:
👉 7 Practices for Living More Simply in a Noisy World
A quiet invitation toward clarity, presence, and soulful resistance.
💬 Like this kind of reflection?
I share posts like this every Monday—plus deeper explorations of spiritual formation every Wednesday, story-based reflections on Thursday, and cultural Wanderings on Friday.
👉 Click here to subscribe and walk with me through each week’s journey.
💌 Know someone who’s worn out by hurry and slower life… or wondering if connection and community is even possible anymore?
This might be a post worth passing on.
You never know what one shared story can do.
A Question for You
Where have you felt the hurry virus most recently?
Not just in your schedule—but in your soul?
Reply in the comments—or sit with that question in stillness today.
Sometimes naming it is the first form of resistance.
More soon,
—Gene