In our ongoing series that focuses on spiritual practices, we’ll take an extended look at just one practice: Sabbath keeping.
Recently I spoke at a local church and the pastor stopped in to be, well, pastoral, I suppose. He asked about my topic, and I wasn’t sure if he was interested or policing. So I told him the title was “Breathe: Creating Space for God in a Hectic Life,” and that the three focus areas of this retreat were slowing, simplicity and Sabbath-keeping.
“Sabbath keeping,” he repeated. “What’s that?”
Uh, obeying the fourth commandment, I thought—but did not say.
“Well, um, keeping the Sabbath; taking a day of rest once a week,” I said while feeling a little lame with that explanation. It’s so much more.
“Huh,” he said, looking at me. He seemed to be waiting for further explanation. I resisted the urge to say I would mail him a CD of my talks.
When a member of the clergy is unclear on what it means to obey one of the Ten Commandments, we’re in trouble. Not just as ministry leaders, but as Christians. Let’s face the truth: the Christian sub-culture is often a workaholic culture. And in some ways more insidious than Wall Street—because we’re not just working for ourselves, we are working for God; so we become proud of our work-a-holism. But rationalizing our dysfunction doesn’t make it healthy.
So maybe you are someone in this culture that does not understand or place high value on rest. As a result, you only get to experience a part of God. As Mark Buchanan would say, in missing that Sabbath rest, you are missing the rest of God.
These next few months, we’re going to talk about what it means to Sabbath. To “Shabbat.” To stop. To put aside all the work that never stops, and say, “Now I will rest, now I will enjoy God. Now I will only focus on two things: love God and love others.” Just as he commanded. Let’s look at how a typical Sabbath happened in our home—in very specific, practical terms.
The Sabbath begins and ends at sundown. So now, as the Sunday night darkness gathers outside my windows, I reflect on the last twenty-four hours of rest, joy, service, and simply being.
Sabbath begins at sunset. Why? From Genesis on, the Bible shows that sunset starts the Hebrew day. (“And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.”)
So Saturday evening, we begin our Shabbat by heading to God’s house, first to serve. To follow Isaiah 58, which says Sabbath is not a day to go your own way but to go God’s way. My family and I volunteer together, sitting on the floor with three-year-olds, telling them about Jesus. Laughing with them, dancing to Jesus songs, even coloring. All this happens while their parents worship upstairs. We are a part of the body in this simple task. Consider making part of your Sabbath about loving and serving others.
We eat dinner at church or go home to have leftovers. Then, we just hang out. I wish it were more complicated, but it’s not. Sometimes the kids’ friends come over, some weeks we play board games, or read, or watch a movie together.
Then we go to bed and know that God is watching over us, rejoicing over us with singing.
In the morning, I wake before the alarm and shut it off—and spend an hour in simple silence and reflect on verses that God brings to mind as I watch the sunrise.
We go to church as a family. And then we open the gift of Sabbath—time unhindered. I take a leisurely walk with the dog.
Later, I pull the dandelions that spring has strewn across my yard. I stand and talk to my neighbors, without thinking “I need to get going.” Easy to do because there is nowhere I need to go. In fact, I don’t wear my watch. The weather is warm for the first time in a week. I read a novel for a while, ride my bike to Dairy Queen with my son and his friend, and we sip milkshakes. “Take your time, boys, we’re in no hurry,” I say. What a luxury.
My daughter and her friends sunbathe in the backyard, the boys play with water balloons out front. I wander over to the neighbor’s house and sit on the front porch visiting.
Later, I pick asparagus that has come up in my spring garden, cook it for exactly one minute, sprinkle it with lemon and oil and parmesan cheese, and bring it to my neighbor. We eat it standing in her kitchen, feeling blessed to be able to enjoy food that was growing less than five minutes ago.
Later, we return to her front porch and the neighbors from across the street come by. We chat, pet the dog, and laugh. All of us revel in the warmth even as the sun sinks: ah, the flowers, the kids throwing water balloons, that asparagus.
I grill some chicken and open a can of peaches for dinner, which we eat on the deck.
Night arrives, and the Sabbath steals away; leaving its peace like a cloak around our shoulders.
Do you take a day of rest once a week? If you are in ministry, Sunday likely is the focus of your work week. So Sabbath on a different day: could you take Mondays off, and enjoy God and his creation and his people without worrying about “ministry” that day? Refuse to go in to work on your day off. Turn off your cell phone. Can God keep the world spinning without you for 24 hours?
Sabbath is more than just a day to stop and rest, but that’s a good place to begin the conversation. Do you stop? Do you believe that is possible? Why not try it and see? Or as Scripture says, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.”
Keri Wyatt Kent is an author, speaker and Promiseland volunteer. Learn more about her ministry at www.keriwyattkent.com
Copyright © 2007 Promiseland.
