Sabbath Says

(Sorry — I don’t know why this didn’t post on Wednesday. See, I’m moving more slowly already.)

Observing the Sabbath has made me move slightly slower in my daily life.

For example, I drive under the speed limit. 70mph = 75mph  in reality, so if I drive between 65mph and 68mph, I happily cruise in the right lane while people pass me on the left. It’s rare I need to pass anyone else.

I also don’t shop sales. Too many crowds, whether it’s Black Friday or President’s Day. If I need to shop, I go the day after the big sale. Fewer crowds keep me sane. Sometimes, I even find better bargains.

Finally, I used to hit the pool right at 5:30 a.m., when my fitness club opened, to be sure to get a lane. The stress mitgated any benefit derived from an early morning swim. Now, I arrive about 30 minutes later, after the first crew finishes. Voila — a lane of one’s own.

These simple strategies would never have occured to me if I had not started observing the Sabbath, almost eight years ago. Being deliberately slow one day a week gives me the freedom to slow things up a little on the other six. Ironically, it also give me the freedom to rev up, when necessary.

But only when necessary.

Usually, by the day before the Sabbath, the 6th day, I am an emotional wreck. I just can’t take it anymore. I am sick of everything and everyone.

That’s when I start to prioritize: what absolutely, positively must be done before I rest? Last week, I came up with a short list of errands, plus paying bills. But when would I do that? I’m on deadline with the magazine! Then, God intervened. Someone was late with their work — God bless them! They allowed me time to finish my housekeeping stuff, and then begin my 24 hours of rest and worship.

Maybe I was so tired because the week before included three funerals: a 15-year old girl who died in a car accident, the mother of my husband’s best friend, and my grandfather.

I would like for this day to be more worshipful, but right now, it’s just an offering. I have my worship & prayer time, and then I sleep as much as possible.

Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If anyone should die before I wake, I pray the Lord their soul to take.

I thought that observing Sabbath would made it easier for me to take a sick day. The operative word is “a.” Today marks Sick Day #3, and although my body is better, my will is not amused. I keep moaning, “I’ve lost three days!” as if it were a tragedy.

Despite my histrionics, I have found that keeping the Sabbath makes me more aware when my body is out of kilter. I am more likely to take a day off with a cold instead of pushing on until it becomes bronchitis or pneumonia. And when I do get sick and it stretches into three days (or 10 when I had the flu), I can actually stay in bed.

Whether I am well or sick, I must die to me. The General Confession from Morning Prayer reads, “And there is no health in us.”

I’m not any spiritually healthier when I’m up and about than when I’m stuck in bed. “But thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us, miserable offenders.”

Ever since I moved to my small town, four years ago, the annual stock show has flummoxed me (a city girl). Many, many kids in our area raise livestock all year, then show and sell them the first weekend in January following New Year’s. This means that the school week following Christmas vacation is shortened to four days, so that kids can attend the stock show.

How sweet, you might say.

I say, another holiday? Already?

By the time our short two-week winter break ends, my kids are at each other’s throats. I am ready for a Sabbath week — alone! Instead, we get time off when none of us really want it. Maybe we should start showing animals just so we could be happy.

Some rests are forced. They don’t feel nearly as good as the ones we choose. I have hated the lack of choice involved with this particular break.

But this year, the stock show weekend was unexpectedly restful. Since our family wasn’t all together during the entire holiday break, it was nice to have a little more time. Not having a choice ended up being a nice surprise.

See. What do I know?

The December 30, 2009 issue of The Wall Street Journal included a fun article on the inadequacies of the current calendar, called, “Time and Again, the Calendar Comes Up Short,” by Charles Forelle (The Numbers Guy). In short, astronomically, the current calendar is still a bit off. Blame what he called “Earth’s inconvenient orbit,” — slowly leading us astray.

The article focused on possible solutions, including something called the World Calendar, developed by the United Nations in the 1950s. It’s nice and neat, with each month alloted 30 or 31 days and a total of 12  months, but this calendar adds an extra 365th day (called Worldsday) onto the end of the year. That addition would mean that the last week of the year would have eight days instead of seven.

Apparently, when this calendar was first proposed, people balked because the change would mess up the Sabbath. When I read this, I laughed. You mean, enough people actually care about observing the Sabbath to complain?

Mr. Wayne Edward Richardson, director of the World Calendar Association, is holding out hope that 2012 could be the year for the World Calendar. To the complainers, he said that Worldsday could be a “double Sabbath.”

Now we’re talking! Wouldn’t that be fun? A day suspended between years. The longer I do this Sabbath thing, the more I want. Imagine getting a second helping, a double-dip cone, a 24/8.

I know it won’t happen. But the spectre of change makes me want to enjoy what I’ve got, on this Sabbath day.

For Christmas two years ago, my son bought me a Norman Rockwell plate that features Santa slumped in a chair. Behind him, a calendar proclaims the date as December 26th. The agenda: Rest.

What does St. Nick do the day after delivering all those toys? Surely he deserves a Sabbath. I wonder how this Lycian bishop kicks back. Maybe a spicy Christmas ale and the Gospel of Luke (just a guess).

During the season, I enjoy singing carols as worship songs. I love to listen to Linus re’cite the Christmas story. And when it’s all over, I like to slump in a chair and settle myself for a long winter’s nap.

This Sabbath, instead of praying on my back porch with my Bible, I played. The whole family had a free day, so we chose to have a little fun. The day was defined by what we did, rather than by what we abstained from.

We shopped for Christmas presents. We saw a movie that was so worshipfull that it made us cry. We looked at holiday lights around town. We gathered our sleeping bags in the living room for hot cocoa, football, and Santa stories.

This was a celebratory Sabbath — different from my usual quiet, meditative ones. Still holy. The kind of holiness that got Jesus in trouble with the Pharisees for being a glutton and a drunkard. (Do popcorn and hot cocoa count?)

This Sabbath we did not work. We did not worry. We hung a shining star upon the highest bar and had ourselves a merry little Sabbath.

May you have one, too.