appear quite willing to simply forget one of the Ten Commandments —the one about which more scriptural verses are explicitly dedicated than all the other commandments combined.
When I speak about the Sabbath with church folk, they often look at me as if my head is in the clouds. As they imagine their indispensability in running the universe, they tell me, “Oh, I would love to take some time off, but I just can’t right now. I have so much on my plate that just has to get done. And besides ... (wait for it) if I don’t get this done, who will?” I invariably receive a deep, pen-
etrating stare when I politely suggest that perhaps God might just have a bit of experience in this: “Maybe delegate just a few of the less compli- cated things to God, who I am sure is willing to take on some of your awe- some responsibility?” Here we meet a deeply funda-
mental test of our faith. Because I’m convinced that one crucial aspect of our reluctance to stop is our genuine concern that God just might not be up to the task. Without some solid knowledge that a force infinitely larger than we are is running things, we never feel we have permission to drop anything precious or important. The Sabbath—a commandment to stop working and allow God and the earth to grow and provide—forces us to confront this faith, or lack of it. But if we never truly stop, we’ll never be convinced that God seems quite capable of handling things without our help, thank you—and that rest and relationships were most crucial after all.
We remember
So God says, “Go ahead, take a day off. I can take it from here. I’m pretty good at this—I’ve been doing it for a long time. Stop. Remember to
breathe and look around. Things are moving along just fine.”
Elaine is a professional who works hard. But she lost two husbands—the first in Vietnam and the second to can- cer. Now she treasures the gifts that only time can bestow. Several days a week she turns off the phone, lights a candle on a small altar and sits quietly. She prays and gathers pictures. She goes for a walk—often singing along the way. In so doing, she remembers and honors the Sabbath. Remember who you are and that being alive is a gift. Center yourself and your rest in weekly worship. Lis- ten to the breeze rustle the leaves of the trees, speak a word of kindness to someone in need of hearing it, place a hand of blessing on your child or your beloved. Be still, be quiet and listen. God offers us the most elegant, magnificent gift: Sabbath. To unwrap it and take delight in it, we only have to stop. M
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