Sabbath: Sundays Are For Slowing

Picture by Kushagra Kevat on Unsplash

In my life, Sundays represent soul rest. It is a day to practice being in the present, to enjoy the life God has gifted me, and to nurture my spirit.

In biblical tradition, God created in six symbolic stages—light and dark, sky and universe, land and plants, sea and creatures, animals, and humans. At the end of each day, God delighted in what was brought into being. Then on the seventh and final day, God rested from working and made the day holy.

This pattern of work and rest was then embodied in God's sacred community, Israel. The Sabbath (or what Jews call Shabbat from the original Hebrew) was mandated as a holy day to delight in God's many provisions and the fruits of their labor.

I love this pattern of creating and slowing, and, it is amazing how difficult it is to follow. I may lay aside my striving for a short period, but 24 hours can seem indulgent and irresponsible. It feels easier to just keep going at my set pace, as it requires discipline for my mind and body to stop moving at full speed.

But when I do practice taking a day of rest, I find that the stretch of consecutive hours is important. It takes time for my mind to unwind and tasks to move into the background. Even if my morning is leisurely, it is really the second half of the day when things get interesting.

My Sabbath's often involve time in nature, and as the day progresses I become more sensitive to my physical environment. I notice the lapping of water against sand, and how gently the two receive one another. I see the sun's rays on the surface of the water a little differently: a pathway of reflective crystals that could, in an instant, blend together and ignite into one big pool of light. I hear the seagull's cry and, rather than dismiss it, wonder if the gull is calling to me, and what answer I might have to give in return.

My nervous system is finally convinced that I am not active and busy, and I can relax into my body. The quieting makes way for emotions to emerge, often that I hadn't noticed, and now realize were lying just underneath my tasks and mental focuses.

As with different forms of meditation, my Sabbath rest reminds me that I am not what I do, think, or feel. These are secondary experiences to my core identity as a beloved child of God, a vessel of Divine light. In letting go of my work, titles, and self-identifiers, I am given the chance to know that even when I fully surrender I still exist! There is more to me than how I function, what I contribute, how others perceive me, or how I perceive myself. In essence—I Am.