sabbath and trust
For over a year now, I have been learning about Sabbath-keeping. I have written about the value and practice of Sabbath in this space before, and I admit I have a million other things to say. If we were out for coffee together, you and me, and the topic of Sabbath came up, you would eventually have to remind me not to get too excited, nor gab for too long.
In fact, I could (and would) talk about it endlessly. I could share about how it is an act of obedience to God, Who assures me that my worth and my salvation have nothing to do with my works. I could speak of its importance for us as beings made in God's image, and that we are invited to rest as He did on the seventh day of creation. I could also emphasize that Sabbath-keeping is a way to mirror the rhythms and the way of Jesus, Who veered from ministering to being ministered to- and that we, too, must be filled up to pour out. I could talk about how it is counter-cultural in our world of productivity and self-sufficiency. I could tell you that Sabbath is a grace and gift from a good, good Heavenly Father Who delights in His children and Who desires for us to create space in our earthside lives to meet with Him, worship, create, and bask in His joy. I could list Biblical passages and authorship and resources which have shaped my understanding of this practice. I could recount the ways it has changed my view of God and busyness and rest, and how it has been a profound blessing and delight to me.
My goal here isn't to brag about knowing the importance of Sabbath by heart. Quite the contrary. The truth is, I know these things but I have a hard time actually DOING them.
Despite knowing how good and whole it is, I resist the Sabbath and often fail to actually consecrate a full day to rest, worship and do things I enjoy. I often content myself with a half-day of Sabbath so I can dedicate my evening to "catching up" on my studying. I enjoy a couple hours of reading or discovering a new coffee shop, but secretly send some emails for work or get ahead on readings. I opt for less than God's best.
Sure, it is lovely to know the purpose and significance of Sabbath-keeping. But, at the end of the day, if these thoughts don't lead me to action- they remain lovely thoughts.
I mentioned all of these things to my friend Bethany the other day. I told her about my feelings of fatigue and overwhelm, and that I am all too aware of my need for Sabbath- but that practicing it can feel so indulgent, irresponsible and impossible at times.
She wisely responded to me with this: "I remember learning at one point that Sabbath is such a big opportunity to trust. Trust that we won't make the world go around, and that God will keep things going while we step back and immerse ourselves in Scripture, prayer, play and the things that truly restore us."
Ah.
As I took time to think about this, I realized that my resistance to the Sabbath boils down to just that: a lack of trust and faith.
I have to trust that my efforts do not determine my outcomes.
I have to trust that resting in God's peace is something I am made for.
I have to trust that I am not God, and that He alone does not slumber.
I have to trust that God is at work even as I cease.
I have to trust that I must be still to know that He is God.
I have to trust that He carries me in the palm of His hands, and cares for me, always.
I have to trust that nothing I can do or say will make me more loved by Him.
Sabbath-keeping is a practical way to embody my faith: the fact that I do not believe in a works-based gospel, that I am broken and desperately need God, that I rely on Him alone for my future, security and vitality. Sabbath, like faith, inevitably requires surrender. It involves me lightening my grip and TRUSTING that God will catch me.
When I decide to take that leap of faith and fully trust God about my work schedule and studying and endless to-do list, Sabbath-rest is not all that daunting. It becomes an unspeakable gift to cease, rest, embrace and feast. I came across this four-part pattern for Sabbath-keeping, developed by theologian and Regent College Professor Marva J. Dawn, in this book. In Dawn's view, Sabbath should involve the following:
"(1) ceasing—not only from work but also from productivity, anxiety, worry, possessiveness, and so on;
(2) resting— of the body as well as the mind, emotions, and spirit—a wholistic rest;
(3) embracing—deliberately taking hold of Christian values, of our calling in life, of the wholeness God offers us;
(4) feasting—celebrating God and his goodness in individual and corporate worship as well as feasting with beauty, music, food, affection, and social interaction"
Is that not beautiful?
As I peer at this list, I admit to myself that I want to experience these things. I believe, truly, that I am made for them.
A few days after Bethany's encouragement, I enjoyed a full day of Sabbath-rest. Schoolbooks were set aside, emails remained unopened and I delighted in the glory of doing nothing other than reading, writing, spending time with my loved ones for a full 24 hours. I confess- this was the first time I had Sabbathed in weeks.
The goodness of the practice all came back to me, in a visceral way. That day, the blessing of Sabbath was not something theoretical, but something embodied. There I was, having thought I knew everything I needed to know about this rhythm, but realizing (forcefully) that I simply can't know the joy of Sabbath until I claim it for myself, and choose to experience it in complete faith.
If you are like me, and so easily fall into the habit of knowing the reasons for Sabbath rest but failing to actually apply them to your life- take heart. You, too, can fully enjoy and delight in this process of ceasing, resting, embracing, and feasting. All you need to do is close your eyes, whisper a prayer of surrender, and trust.
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” Matthew 11: 28-30, The Message.
In fact, I could (and would) talk about it endlessly. I could share about how it is an act of obedience to God, Who assures me that my worth and my salvation have nothing to do with my works. I could speak of its importance for us as beings made in God's image, and that we are invited to rest as He did on the seventh day of creation. I could also emphasize that Sabbath-keeping is a way to mirror the rhythms and the way of Jesus, Who veered from ministering to being ministered to- and that we, too, must be filled up to pour out. I could talk about how it is counter-cultural in our world of productivity and self-sufficiency. I could tell you that Sabbath is a grace and gift from a good, good Heavenly Father Who delights in His children and Who desires for us to create space in our earthside lives to meet with Him, worship, create, and bask in His joy. I could list Biblical passages and authorship and resources which have shaped my understanding of this practice. I could recount the ways it has changed my view of God and busyness and rest, and how it has been a profound blessing and delight to me.
My goal here isn't to brag about knowing the importance of Sabbath by heart. Quite the contrary. The truth is, I know these things but I have a hard time actually DOING them.
Despite knowing how good and whole it is, I resist the Sabbath and often fail to actually consecrate a full day to rest, worship and do things I enjoy. I often content myself with a half-day of Sabbath so I can dedicate my evening to "catching up" on my studying. I enjoy a couple hours of reading or discovering a new coffee shop, but secretly send some emails for work or get ahead on readings. I opt for less than God's best.
Sure, it is lovely to know the purpose and significance of Sabbath-keeping. But, at the end of the day, if these thoughts don't lead me to action- they remain lovely thoughts.
I mentioned all of these things to my friend Bethany the other day. I told her about my feelings of fatigue and overwhelm, and that I am all too aware of my need for Sabbath- but that practicing it can feel so indulgent, irresponsible and impossible at times.
She wisely responded to me with this: "I remember learning at one point that Sabbath is such a big opportunity to trust. Trust that we won't make the world go around, and that God will keep things going while we step back and immerse ourselves in Scripture, prayer, play and the things that truly restore us."
Ah.
As I took time to think about this, I realized that my resistance to the Sabbath boils down to just that: a lack of trust and faith.
I have to trust that my efforts do not determine my outcomes.
I have to trust that resting in God's peace is something I am made for.
I have to trust that I am not God, and that He alone does not slumber.
I have to trust that God is at work even as I cease.
I have to trust that I must be still to know that He is God.
I have to trust that He carries me in the palm of His hands, and cares for me, always.
I have to trust that nothing I can do or say will make me more loved by Him.
Sabbath-keeping is a practical way to embody my faith: the fact that I do not believe in a works-based gospel, that I am broken and desperately need God, that I rely on Him alone for my future, security and vitality. Sabbath, like faith, inevitably requires surrender. It involves me lightening my grip and TRUSTING that God will catch me.
When I decide to take that leap of faith and fully trust God about my work schedule and studying and endless to-do list, Sabbath-rest is not all that daunting. It becomes an unspeakable gift to cease, rest, embrace and feast. I came across this four-part pattern for Sabbath-keeping, developed by theologian and Regent College Professor Marva J. Dawn, in this book. In Dawn's view, Sabbath should involve the following:
"(1) ceasing—not only from work but also from productivity, anxiety, worry, possessiveness, and so on;
(2) resting— of the body as well as the mind, emotions, and spirit—a wholistic rest;
(3) embracing—deliberately taking hold of Christian values, of our calling in life, of the wholeness God offers us;
(4) feasting—celebrating God and his goodness in individual and corporate worship as well as feasting with beauty, music, food, affection, and social interaction"
Is that not beautiful?
As I peer at this list, I admit to myself that I want to experience these things. I believe, truly, that I am made for them.
A few days after Bethany's encouragement, I enjoyed a full day of Sabbath-rest. Schoolbooks were set aside, emails remained unopened and I delighted in the glory of doing nothing other than reading, writing, spending time with my loved ones for a full 24 hours. I confess- this was the first time I had Sabbathed in weeks.
The goodness of the practice all came back to me, in a visceral way. That day, the blessing of Sabbath was not something theoretical, but something embodied. There I was, having thought I knew everything I needed to know about this rhythm, but realizing (forcefully) that I simply can't know the joy of Sabbath until I claim it for myself, and choose to experience it in complete faith.
If you are like me, and so easily fall into the habit of knowing the reasons for Sabbath rest but failing to actually apply them to your life- take heart. You, too, can fully enjoy and delight in this process of ceasing, resting, embracing, and feasting. All you need to do is close your eyes, whisper a prayer of surrender, and trust.
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” Matthew 11: 28-30, The Message.
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