Missing Sabbath

[Coronavirus – IX]

I read this beautiful poem by Lynn Unger that suggests we treat this time the way the Jews treat Sabbath. It’s a powerful suggestion I want to take up.

How do we steer this time of social distancing into a time of Sabbath renewal?

Don’t just stop working . . . willfully sever the attachment of meaning and value you associate with your work and position. Sabbath teaches us that we are not our work.

Don’t only cease from traveling . . . stop the wanderlust that takes you away from being here, planted in place, engaged deeply in your neighborhood. Sabbath grounds us locally.

Don’t only stop going to the store . . . unleash yourself from the lie that we are what we produce and what we consume. Sabbath shows us there is more to life than the endless drive of the market.

Don’t just halt your normal eating-out habit . . . cook slow meals with raw ingredients and long conversations. Sabbath is a hard stop to the rat race and an invitation to the table.

Don’t just give up on your efforts to change the world for two weeks. . . grant yourself a break from the drive to change everything else, and instead give yourself the grace to breathe, to be held, to sit. Sabbath is full of grace.

The sun has set, Sabbath rest has begun. Rest is not laziness, it is a generative pause that not only increases productivity (important to note, but not the point) but enriches future work with purpose and perspective.

We’ve been missing Sabbath.