Back in my twenties, I lived in Washington, DC. Despite what some politicians say about lazy bureaucrats, I found Washington to be a city filled with hard-working people. Even at a party, it seemed the primary conversation was about work—how hard people were working, and how busy they were. One summer I went away on vacation, and when I came back, I was feeling happy and relaxed.

On Sunday morning three weeks ago, my wife Tracey and I went to church in Scotland. It was our last full day in that lovely green country that we had been wandering around for two weeks. We went to Elgin Cathedral, a church with no roof and with grass for a floor, because it had fallen into ruin during the Reformation, five hundred years ago. There was no service, and there hadn’t been one there for a long time, but it felt like church as we moved quietly through that space.