The Sabbath: Meeting God on the Day of Rest

Almost every person I know tells me that he’s busy—too busy—and that he wishes he could just find some time to relax. The pressures of work and family, the ring of cell phones, the piles of e-mails…it can sap our energy and dampen our spirits. That is, unless we can find the means to renew ourselves and rejoice in the beauti­ful world, our caring friends, and the precious moments that we have to enjoy them.

The last couple of years have been very challenging for me. The controversy over my involvement with the No Child Left Behind policy, the serious loss of business revenue, personal challenges with my mother’s health—all of these have forced me to reconnect to the true sources of power in my life. Experience continues to teach me that at every turn we are either entering, coming out of, or already weathering one of life’s storms. Sometimes we imagine that we’ll reach a point where all of life’s worries and cares will disappear. But in reality, life is never perfect. And even when there is more to do, more to say, more to fix, more to accomplish—still, even then, even now, we must find time to rest.

After we’re born, the umbilical cord that once served as our source of nourishment and growth is cut. We go through life seeking, in some sense, to connect ourselves again to something meaningful—something that provides comfort, nourishment, and growth. The unfortunate among us end up in all-consuming and ultimately unsatisfying pur­suits of highs from drugs and alcohol, fornication and adul­tery, the rush of adrenaline from gambling, the temporary comforts of overeating, or the false sense of security that comes from indulgence in materialism. Yet for all of the en­ergy and effort that good people spend in these endeavors, they ultimately end up farther from what they know to be their true, most healthy selves.

Fortunately, the storms of life can sometimes tear the veil from our eyes, and we can see the path back to our true sources of power and connection.

Growing up on a tobacco farm in Marion, South Carolina, during the 1960s, one abiding memory I have is of attend­ing my father’s African Methodist Episcopalian Church on the first and third Sunday of every month, while attending my mother’s Pentecostal Church of worship on the second and fourth Sundays. My seven brothers, two sisters, and I worked so hard on our parents’ 200-acre estate from sunup to sundown that we were always weary from the endless chores of farm life. We awoke every day by 5 A.M. to gather for morning prayer as a family. Then the work of the day was set before us. My father believed that physical labor was good for the spirit; so whether it was slopping hogs, tend­ing cattle, cropping tobacco, harvesting fruits and vege­tables, or just picking cotton, we worked in every season. On school days we would have tended chickens, milked the cow, or done any number of other chores before we ever saw the school bus. When we came home, there was yet more work, which would often last until 8 P.M. This was a constant, Monday through Saturday. But on Sunday, ev­erything stopped.

Sundays were days for physical, spiritual, and emotion­al renewal. Growing up, the only thing required of us as a family on the Sabbath was that we attend church togeth­er for a few hours and have a family dinner—that was its beauty. My father would leave us alone the rest of the day to play, have fun, and do the things that we wanted to do. Other children, I remember, would spend most of Sunday in church. My father felt that church was important, but so was play. We never had to do any chores on Sunday.

As my life has progressed over the last four decades, the labors have changed in type, but not in quantity. I enjoy my work more now, but I also have more work to do. Looking back, I found that over the years I slowly began to neglect the Sabbath. While I would honor it from time to time, I was consumed with friendships, working toward wealth, status, and professional achievement. So while the quantity of my labors did not change substantially, I often ignored the Sabbath—and this came at a price.

The Commandment tells us to remember the Sabbath and keep it holy. In six days the Lord made the heavens, the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and on the sev­enth day He rested. “Six days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work: But the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates” (Ex 21:10).

At the beginning of creation, God observes the Sab­bath, and we learn that He rested and was refreshed. Ac­complishment is sweet to the soul, and work is good: It can be a celebration of our God-given skills and talents, an ex­pression of our passion to create and our desire to play a role in building a better world for our children. Yet we must also rest. For in resting we can reflect—on our work, on those good things we have created, on what we can do and what we must let go. It’s also an opportunity to rejoice—not only in what we have accomplished, but in the beautiful world that God has created for us to enjoy.

The Sabbath provides time to reflect. When we inevitably experience sorrow, rest allows us to heal. When we experience tragedy, rest gives us the time to connect with friends in fruitful conversation and to begin to reconnect with our strength, sowing the seeds of our own recovery.

We all make mistakes—errors of omission and errors of commission. We cause others pain, we do harm to those we love, and damage to ourselves. We disappoint neighbors and let down friends. We know these things in our souls, and they gnaw at us. Yet our harried lives provide a distraction from having to confront our true selves. Our busy schedules give us the permanent excuse we need to avoid confronting God and ourselves with who we truly are. Yet in the Sabbath, and in rest, we must rejoice in the good things we have created and reflect on the damage we have done; being human, we must look at our creation and admit that it is not as we know it should be.

These things are with us every day, but on the Sabbath we can confront them squarely. Our marriages, our friend­ships, our relations with family, our public responsibilities: Sometimes we hurt those people and undermine those ac­tivities that are most meaningful to us. On the Sabbath we must face this. In silence, even in rest, the truth of our own conduct confronts us; seeing it, we are called to change. Maybe a kindness is called for, an extra effort needed, or an apology owed. We pause not only to rejoice on the Sabbath, but to reflect, to face ourselves, and to emerge strengthened by the knowledge that we can do, and be, better. For me, this has been one of the Sabbath’s greatest blessings.

When we take time to rejoice, to pause, to enjoy, we are nourished physically, spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. We can then not only return to our labors with fresh energy, but perhaps more importantly, we can return to ourselves and pause for a moment to cherish the very life that we have been granted.

God created Adam on the sixth day, so his first day of conscious living would have been the Sabbath. He spent his first day alive resting with God in His presence. If we were to follow Adam’s example and begin each week refreshed by prayer and the knowledge of God’s love, we would all benefit.

We can neglect rest only for so long. To neglect the Sabbath is to risk mental and spiritual malnutrition, as well as physical burnout. Too often we think of rest as an indulgence. On the contrary: The Sabbath is a commandment, because we must take time to enjoy the life that we have been granted with its many blessings.

The practice of keeping the Sabbath is observed dif­ferently among Jews and Christians, but the principles are the same. Jews traditionally observe the Sabbath from Fri­day sunset to Saturday sunset, and observant reform, con­servative, and orthodox Jews all observe the Sabbath with slightly different practices. Christians traditionally observe Sunday as their Sabbath, primarily because it was on Sun­day that Jesus rose from the dead. For some, these minor differences might matter; but for all of us, there are univer­sal principles at work.

The concept of rest is deeply rooted in many religious practices. Think of fasting. Like rest, fasting is often misun­derstood. Some consider it to be strictly about denial, yet it is also about rest and clarity. When we fast we are allowing our body, soul, and spirit the time to rest and reflect without distraction or indulgence. We are told that if we observe this principle, numerous blessings ensue.

And this insight isn’t limited to Judaism and Christianity. In the Islamic tradition, there is no Sabbath per se, but Friday is held in importance because it was the day in which Adam was created. Muslims refer to Friday as the day of congregation, as it is incumbent upon all who are able to congregate in order to reflect and refocus. Although it is not in the Muslim tradition to spend the entire day in sabbati­cal, from this practice and the Muslim tradition of praying five times a day we see the same purpose the Sabbath serves for Christians and Jews.

The Quran states, “But seek, with the [wealth] Allah has given you, the home of the hereafter. And do not forget your portion in this world, but be good, because Allah is good to you. And do not look for mischief in the land, for Allah does not love those that do mischief” (28:77). In other words, use what you have to get to paradise, but remember that we have a share in this world, too.

This is not unlike Jesus’ own teaching: Don’t let the life of this world absorb you so much that you forget God and the blessings that He has given us. Our life is in this world, and we must enjoy it well—not through excessive indul­gence, but through real appreciation for all our blessings.

We will all die. We should remember this without fretting about it. And the Sabbath serves us even in this. While giv­ing us an opportunity to reflect upon our work and accom­plishments, it also calls us to remember that our lease from God on life will soon expire. Are we using it well? Are we spending our energy in pursuits that nourish us, that create a better world, that lead to greater love?

Sometimes we need to step away in order for real wis­dom to come. It is no coincidence that of the three mono­theistic faiths, when retelling the story of how their leaders were strengthened by the Almighty, all profess that they were on a sabbatical from the “world” when the inspiration came. The Old Testament tells us that Moses received the Ten Commandments while on Mount Sinai; the New Tes­tament describes Christ withstanding the temptations of Satan while alone in the wilderness; the Quran describes Mohammed receiving his first revelation while alone in the cave on Mount Hira. These men found it necessary to separate themselves from the world of their day in order to refocus and rejuvenate. Surely in today’s world we must find time to do the same. The Sabbath provides us with this op­portunity to ask deep questions, and to be prepared for real answers to come.

In the modern world, however, this can be difficult to achieve. It used to be that most stores were closed on Sun­day. No alcohol or tobacco could be sold. Just a decade ago, some areas still had a social structure that supported the Sabbath. This has become increasingly rare. Today, we have the distractions of TV, radio, and the Internet; many men spend their Sabbath watching sports. There is always a diversion, as our seasons change from football to basket­ball to baseball. Watching sports can be relaxing, in its own way, but surely our Sabbath is meant for more than time before the TV, or attending sporting events. Others spend their weekend consumed with shopping; they need a dis­traction. They have their to-do lists for work, and another for when they hit the mall. Like sports, shopping can be a great reward and good relaxation, but I suspect that many people feel it more as an obligation than an opportunity to truly relax.

Americans, as a culture, do not prize silence. When we meet new people we often fill the time with talk, em­barrassed about an “awkward” silence. Yet there are some things that can only come in quiet moments.

In my own life, especially over the last few years, I have increasingly come to appreciate the wisdom and the beauty of the Sabbath. The nature of taking time to reflect on life’s blessings has helped to clear my head, refresh my body, and renew my sense of purpose. I enjoy watching an occasional game on TV, but I also value conversations with friends, a good long walk, a nap, or some time with a book—time that helps me reconnect with things that are important in my life. More conscious of the beauty of the world, I be­come more aware of God’s love for us all.

It has been a good year for me—difficult, but good. In those trying times, I was able to reconnect with friends, ask tough questions about personal choices and my public purpose, and emerge stronger—spiritually, professionally, and personally—than ever before. The Sabbath has been central to my renewal. And I recommend it to you.

Let me finish with a word of warning: The Sabbath is of­ten difficult. How could that be? Isn’t the day primarily about rest and renewal, about rejoicing and love? Yes, but it’s also about reflection, and about taking time to ask the important questions about how we are spending that time. I began this piece by mentioning how busy so many people tell me they are. They have cell phones on their hips, radios on in their cars, TVs on at home, and e-mails piling up at work. Many of us act as if all this activity is a burden—and it is a burden. But more than that, it is also a blanket meant to comfort us from the awesome—sometimes intimidating—power of silence and rest.

For some of us, the incredible pace of life is a self-induced state of denial, a ready excuse to avoid the hard questions. If we really pause to ask them—what am I doing? How am I living? Am I focused on what really matters? Am I enjoying my precious gift of life? Am I helping to build a better world?—we may find that we don’t like the answers. We might discover that we need to change and that we have come up short of our own highest hopes. That’s okay. It may be difficult, but I have also found that in rest, and in reflection, I’ve been able to come to better answers, more confident in the knowledge of God’s love and wisdom, and less troubled by my own small worries.

The Sabbath is a blessing and a challenge. But it is a challenge worth embracing.