Today, if you hear his voice,
do not harden your heart
as you did in the rebellion,
during the time of testing in the wilderness…
…“Their hearts are always going astray,
and they have not known my ways.”
So I declared on oath in my anger,
“They shall never enter my rest.”
(from Hebrews 3 referencing Psalm 95)

The concept of “hardened hearts” appears many times in the Bible. The phrase first and most famously appears in the book of Exodus, where God repeatedly hardens Pharaoh’s heart amid an increasingly elaborate display of plagues which mock the Egyptian deities. But this and a lament in Isaiah 63 are the only instances in the Old Testament where God explicitly hardens someone’s heart.
 
In 1 Samuel 6, the Philistines harden their own hearts. In 2 Chronicles 36, King Zedekiah hardens his heart. In the book of Daniel, the writing on the wall in chapter 5 criticizes King Nebuchadnezzar for allowing his pride to harden his heart (eventually leading to his downfall). In Zechariah, God rebukes the people for having hardened hearts and ignoring previous commands to live justly. Proverbs 28 warns of the danger in hardening your heart, and, as Psalm 95 warns, letting your heart become hardened leads eventually to an inability to enter holy rest.

The New Testament draws more on this second understanding of hard hearts, and the concept appears across the gospels and letters. In particular, the book of Hebrews cites Psalm 95 with the same warning: don’t harden your heart; don’t exclude yourself from holy rest. A number of clergy and highly active church folk participate in our Sunday night Brews & Hebrews gatherings, and when this command about rest hit us, it felt as though the whole table sighed.

When you’re in a service-oriented industry (whether as a volunteer or as part of your vocation), rest tends to be scarce, and hearts can often become hard. Because these sorts of roles require so much feeling, busyness and jadedness can become temporary safe havens, but there’s a hazard when we depend too much on these. Self-preservation in these fields requires at least some measure of emotional distance, but in excess, that distance can fester into apathy. And so, a balancing act forms: protecting the heart while also keeping it open.

None of us have perfected this balance. Even the most seasoned professionals (like some of the hospital chaplains with whom I serve) still encounter cases that crack their hearts on a deeper level and require a little time away. But that’s part of doing this work. An open heart can draw on empathy, can form relationships of trust, and can take true rest. A hard heart will struggle with all of these things. It may be difficult for us to assess when our hearts are hardening— particularly when we’re in the midst of difficult circumstances. Thankfully, back in the summer of 2011, I learned another measure for our hearts, and I still use this as my main rubric for how I’m really feeling: Is your heart full?

My second year of div school had been a painful one, and I was taking the summer to travel the county and work on a research project. I drove approximately 11,000 miles that summer, visiting megachurches, writing, seeing old friends, and (most importantly) having plenty of recovery time alone behind the wheel. One of my early stops was Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, MI, where the famous pastor Rob Bell was navigating the fallout from his controversial new book, Love Wins. I had the opportunity to talk to Rob during my visit, and knowing him to be something of a poster child for ministerial burnout, I asked him for some tips on navigating it. His advice stuck with me:

Your relationships with other people and even your relationship with God will start to suffer if you don’t keep your heart full. Know the things that deplete your heart, know the things that replenish your heart, and make sure you’re always doing enough of the latter. If you go into any kind of ministry with an empty heart, your relationship to God starts to break down, your relationships with others break down, and then you’re only creating further hurt. So keep your heart full. No matter what. Even if it means taking three months off and driving across the country like you’re doing, keep your heart full.

What are the things that replenish your heart?
Where do you find rest and comfort?
Are you doing enough of those things?

To keep your heart open and functioning and empathetic,
while also protecting your heart and having the right amount of distance,
I’ve found no better approach than this:
Keep your heart full.