Sabbath, A Weekly Tonic I love my Weather Channel App. And I am a sucker for the teaser videos it shows. One this week said that scientist have an estimation of when the sun will die. Right? How can you not click on that? So here it is: the sun will die in about 10 billion years. We, on earth will not witness any of it, because the sun s brightness will destroy all life on our planet in 1 billion years. First it will become a red giant, then a white dwarf and finally a planetary nebula. All that will be left is a glowing ring of gas and dust. It is just hard to imagine, isn t? The death of our galactic star, our great expanse of sky with no bright, warm sun. But that is the nature of the cosmos, stars are born and die all the time; the energy they give off at death is never wasted but put to use
in another new celestial creation. Even so, it is hard enough to imagine that our sun is just a star like all the other stars we see pop out against that velvety night sky. Looking at the stars always make me feel small; like a blip on a screen, like the grass that withers in the field; looking at the stars makes me feel small but grateful that I m aware enough to stop and notice. When is the last time you sat and watched the stars come out at night? Tripp isn t allowed to answer. We have a ritual that involves pizza and a movie on Friday nights at our house. So this past Friday, when didn t feel like pizza it meant our ritual was about to change. With children who have limited palates, and a kitchen in the midst of renovation, we ended up at Chick-Fil-A. We were not the only ones apparently with this perfect storm of circumstances which might lead a family to eat at CFA on a Friday evening. So after eating and playing and begging for lemonade refills we went home with the intention of watching a movie but at the last minute decided to get some wood for the outdoor fire pit instead.
And for the first time, in what felt like an awfully long time, we sat somewhat still; no TV, no internet, no phones. We sat outside with our small fire and waited for the stars to come out. I don t need to tell you how life giving it was. We sat outside and talked about clouds and stars and Barbies, because we have two little girls. There were moments of chatter, moments of silence and there were moments of competitive dog barking. But somehow, without much effort, that evening became something more than just a Friday night. Somehow without much planning that time became something set aside, something sacred. Somehow those brief moments became holy. The first holy thing in all creation was not people or a place, but a day. God made everything in creation and called it good
but when God rested on the seventh day, God called it holy. Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy the very first tablets tell us for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth and sea, and all that is in them, and He rested on the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and hallowed it. I had never noticed that difference before, God made everything in creation and called it good, but when God rested on the seventh day, God (didn t just call it good, God) called it holy. That makes the seventh day, as Rabbi Abraham Heschel calls it a, palace in time, into which human beings are invited every single week of our lives. 1 The question is, when was the last time we visited? Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy. Perhaps right on up there with thou shall not use the Lord s name in vain, this might be the most ignored commandment. And though I know we d all like to admit in front of each other that we d love a little more rest, that we d love a little Sabbath in our lives; what none of us want to admit 1 Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith (HaperOne, New York, NY 2009)
is that even that little bit of Sabbath is terrifying. We ve become accustomed and perhaps even addicted to the work, to the travel, to the sports, to non-stop movement of life that stopping all of that for something called Sabbath means ceasing who we have become. Ours is a culture that thrives on being busy. I ve even caught myself answering the general, how are you? with a nervous laughing, busy. Remembering the Sabbath, in our communal understanding, is the opposite of being busy. Plenty of us remember when there wasn t much to do on a Sunday which meant the commandment was really, remember the Sabbath day and keep it boring; 2 no shopping, no movies, no sports just go to church and be grateful for it. But now, now we are filling what might have been a Sunday set aside for Sabbath with everything but. Sunday is no more a holy Sabbath day than it is a hallowed church day. 2 ibid, pg. 127
Even our little Sabbath on Friday night was only a few hours and not a whole day. Of course with a 5yr old and almost 4yr old, a whole day of star gazing sounds like sheer torture. As Barbara Brown Taylor says, Limiting my activity does not help me feel holy. Doing more feels holy, 3 which is exactly what we can admit in front of each other. VIDEO in the desktop folder, Sabbath as a practice in death Questions at table: 1. We can t even breathe air without producing something new. What does it look like for us to choose to build rest into our life rhythm? 2. Do you think choosing Sabbath=Death? What are you willing to let die? 3. What, if any, fears come up for you when you consider looking deep into the night s sky? There s so much truth in the practice of Sabbath equals death. 3 ibid, pg. 125
So much truth of death in a culture that loves life: loves to prolong it at any cost; loves to push it to its limits; in a culture that is obsessed with everyone appearing that they are living their best life all the time; practicing Sabbath as a practice of death carries so much truth in a culture that teaches you sickness, physical, spiritual, mental is only a measure of weakness in the midst of that culture we Christians could use a little truth about death. And as Christians, if we are now a culture that is not Sunday centric then we as a community will need every ounce of creativity we can squeeze from the fruit of our labors to find a way to hallowed ground. Sabbath is, as BBT said, that weekly tonic that is built into our lives. And isn t the point of a tonic to heal and restore health and life? Imagine a tonic that promises well being a tonic with restorative properties a tonic that has been around longer than elderberry syrup and chia seeds and wrinkle cream!
As good as this sounds, not everyone will drink this tonic even though the invitation is come all who are thirsty, not everyone will like the taste. The ancient wisdom of the Sabbath commandment and the Christian gospel as well is that there is no yes to God without saying no to God s rivals. 4 No one who is invested in the life of our culture will welcome Sabbath. It is only those with eyes that see the life our culture offers as the tiring, devouring and empty life it is; only those outside the cultural rhythm of that life can begin to see, the gift of Sabbath as a necessary death. Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy is our carrion call to die die to productivity, die to constant business, die to a life that offers no rest and no counter rhythm to the driving hum of the cultural machine only a Sabbath death 4 ibid, pg. 139
can lead to something more. This is the last Sunday in Eastertide. The close of the liturgical season of Easter, which means we reminded urgently that death and resurrection is rhythm of our lives together. Sabbath offers us a palace in time, a wide, boundless space in which to die and be reborn within the Triune God. That is death. That is resurrection. That is the rhythm we are created to live by as God s people. If Sunday is no longer our Sabbath, then when? If we, as Christians cannot model the counter rhythm of death and resurrection, then who will? If Sunday is no longer sacred or holy, then when and where and how will anyone hear God s constant invitation to come deeper and deeper into the kingdom, that palace of time, where Father, Son and Spirit are waiting to remind us that our worth has already been established, even we aren t working? 5 This makes practicing Sabbath revolutionary. And with any revolution, 5 ibid, pg.139
the work is never accomplished alone. We need each other. And the world needs us. Isn t Sabbath a good place to start? Speak the good news of rest, of death, of resurrection to a groaning creation? Come to me all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest someone once said. Take my yoke, take what I do and practice and what I have created, take that upon you and learn from me. For in six days I created the heavens and the earth and all that is in them. And on the seventh day, I rested.