Sabbath Keeping

On this fine morning, when we have all presumably "lost" one hour of sleep, I anticipate the turnout at church may be slim. That grieves me as I think we have become accustomed to denying ourselves Sabbath in its truest sense.

Old Testament scholar Walter Bruegemann says that the most important and most difficult of the Ten Commandments to obey is “Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy."

We are commanded in our faith tradition to rest from work by keeping the sabbath. Some of us remember when stores were closed on Sundays. There is good reason why certain disciplines were practiced around the sabbath. Honoring the sabbath requires setting limits, putting on the brakes, and saying no to constant busyness. 

Why is it so hard for us to live within limits, to say no to more activity? Partly it is the pleasure of saying yes. Saying yes acknowledges that someone wants you—wants to be with you, wants you to do something that you do well, wants to do it with you. We also live in a can-do country, where the ability to do many things at high speed is not only an adaption to our fast-paced culture but the mark of a successful human being. Even though many of us complain about having too much to do, we harbor some pride that we are in such demand. 

The spiritual practice of saying no is difficult to do. 

“No, I want to stay home tonight.”

“No, I have enough work for now.”

“No, I have all the possessions I want to take care of.”

These can sound like death wishes. If there is nothing more you want to do or have, then why go on living? As Barbara Brown Taylor says, if you are going to say no to perfectly good opportunities for adding more to your life, then what is the point? 

The ancient wisdom of the sabbath commandment—and also of the Christian gospel—is that we cannot say yes to God without saying no to God’s rivals. No, I will not earn my way today. No, I will not make anyone else work either. No, I will not worry about my life, what I will eat or what I will drink, or about my body, what I will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?

The Deuteronomy basis for sabbath-keeping is that our ancestors in Egypt went for 400 years without a vacation (Deuteronomy 5:15). Never a day off. The consequence was that they were no longer considered persons but slaves. As Eugene Peterson notes, they were not people created in the image of God, but equipment for making bricks and building pyramids. Humanity was defaced.

The sabbath restores us to our true selves, valued as human beings made in God’s image and not just for our usefulness, our productivity. The blessing of the sabbath is that it helps us remember that our lives have a focus and meaning larger than day-to-day activity. The sabbath is a time to regain perspective and recognize that God’s goodness permeates all of creation and life.

Jesus taught, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Doesn’t that sound good to us, who are so weary? 

We find ourselves weary because we are anxious. We are too anxious to rest or take refreshment. We do not trust in the abundance that God has woven into creation. We imagine we know better than God. Brueggemann writes: “We spend ourselves in the futility of trying to take the place of the life-guaranteeing God. We are weary because in the end we can guarantee the life of no one and certainly not the life of the church” 

The sabbath allows us to stop and give thanks, to praise God. When we keep the sabbath we are living outside the “Royal Anxiety System” of Pharoah. We embody an alternative to the plot of scarcity. Trusting in God’s abundance leads to thanksgiving. Thanksgiving leads to freedom to rest and praise God. Praising God leads to remembering that it is God, not we, who is the Source of life. 

Jesus, says Brueggemann, issues an invitation, “Come to me.” It is not an altar call. It is a call to an alternative existence, away from deeds of power, away from quotas, away from things “too great,” away from control and domination and success. Away from the way the world wants us to be. . . . Imagine yourself away from your wisdom, your intelligence, your capability, your drive, your effectiveness, and imagine yourself a good respondent to the one who invites, the one who is gentle and humble in heart. 

There is still a yoke that Jesus invites us to carry, but it is an easy yoke. It is not the yoke of Pharaoh’s bricks or Jewish law or Roman demands or capitalist competition or the Protestant work ethic or constant online access. It is an easy yoke of trusting discipleship. Our life need not be lived as a victim or a perpetrator of always seeking more. We can put on the brakes to anxiety; we have been given the gift of rest and worship.  

May we come to value those gifts all the more in this Lenten season and to cherish the spiritual opportunities they bring.

A prayer from Walter Brueggemann:

You, you and the one we address,

always you,

only you...who has given us life,

who waits for us to answer.

We, toward you, speak and remain tongue-tied,

for we lack words that are honest enough,

and dangerous enough,

and fierce enough to match you.

We do not speak first, but after our mothers and fathers,

who knew cadences of honesty about our troubles,

who knew cadences of danger about your presence,

who knew cadences of fierceness to fit our rage and loss.

So we speak to you words that we have always spoken:

words of praise and adoration:

...into your gates with thanksgiving,

into your courts with praise...

words of confession and remorse:

...against you and only you we have sinned...

words of thanks and astonishment:

...you have turned our mourning into dancing...

words of rage unabated:

...dash their heads against the rocks.

So many words we need to speak

to you from whom no secrets can be hid,

you beyond us, you with us, you for us,

you with ears bent close to our lips,

You...and our woes turned toward you, always you, only you,

yet again you.

Amen.