How Do You Keep a Sabbath?

Mark 2:23-3:6

June 3, 2018

William G. Carter

One sabbath he was going through the grainfields; and as they made their way his disciples began to pluck heads of grain. The Pharisees said to him, “Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the sabbath?” And he said to them, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food? He entered the house of God, when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions.” Then he said to them, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.”

Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there who had a withered hand. They watched him to see whether he would cure him on the sabbath, so that they might accuse him. And he said to the man who had the withered hand, “Come forward.” Then he said to them, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent. He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored. The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.

On a trip to Scotland, my wife and I landed for a few days in Stornoway. The city is on the Isle of Lewis, some 30 miles off the northwestern shoulder of Scotland. It is a bit secluded, which is exactly as the locals prefer it to be. News of the outside world doesn't get to Stornoway very quickly. The people are not so much isolated as insulated, again, just as many would like it to be.

In Stornoway, everything shuts down on a Sunday. Everything (except a few pubs). The guide books warn you of this, but it must be seen and experienced to be believed. Some of us may remember life before shopping malls and big box stores, all of them now open seven days a week. There was a time when life slowed down on Sunday and enjoyed family meals and refreshing naps. But somehow the old system of Sabbath keeping has unraveled in America. It happened around the time professional football got popular, or when the general population stopped caring about what the church had to say.

Not so in Stornoway, or at least not yet. The city is still run by well-starched Presbyterians, a species of which purports to be quite pious. All the public parks are closed, and the swings are chained together lest the children be tempted. Margaret, the proprietor of our bed and breakfast, told us how she once hung up her wet laundry on a Sunday. When she wasn't looking, one of her Presbyterian neighbors took it all down, folded it wet, and left a note to say, “We don't work on the Lord's day.”

It seems like an old Victorian photograph, black and white and remarkably clear. On Sunday, the Lord's Day, this is what we do, and that is what we don’t.

For the Jews of Jesus’ day, Sabbath began at sundown on Friday. No work was to be done until an hour after sundown on Saturday. The experts in God's law offered their judgments on how far somebody would be allowed to walk before it began to looks like work. They called that a Sabbath day’s journey, and it was about a half mile. No commerce was to be conducted on the Sabbath. Big meals were prepared in advance so that even Mama got a day of rest

The Jewish scriptures offered two reasons for keeping this day different. First, remember you were slaves in Egypt and God set you free. To perpetually remember this, work for six days but remain free from work on the seventh (Deuteronomy 5:12-15).

The second reason goes all the way back to Creation (Exodus 20:8-11). God is so firmly governing the world that God can take a day of rest. God is not frantic, obsessive, overbearing nor over-functioning. God is free and God is sovereign.

So naturally, the people who loved God's law had a good question for Jesus: why do your disciples break the Sabbath? They were talking about the twelve disciples, not us. The twelve were Jews, very much a part of the Jewish faith, but they were observed plucking grain on a Sabbath Saturday while walking through the fields.  

It’s a good question. God has given us the commandments to direct how we should live. They are intended for our well-being. Jesus essentially says, “Well, the boys are hungry.” He reminds them of a thousand-year-old Bible story, of a moment when David and his buddies were hungry, too. The only available bread was Holy Bread on the altar. So David has to convince the priest to hand it over, which he does.

Reminds me of the Sunday night communion services in our seminary chapel. We would gather after a long day of serving our field education churches. One of us would preach a sermon that we were getting ready for our classes. Someone would find a real minister to preside over the communion liturgy. We stood in a circle around the Table and passed the bread and cup.

I’ll never forget the first time there was a big piece of leftover bread, and somebody passed it around a second time. The guy next to me said, “Are we allowed to eat this?” The woman on the other side said, “Well, if you don’t want any more, give it to me. I’ve been with a senior high youth all day and I’m starving.”

Is it OK to eat the holy bread if you’re hungry? I suppose you could leave it there on the altar and watch it decay. Or you could eat and give thanks to God that there’s food.

Jesus raises the question: Were we made in order to keep the Sabbath, to keep the rules? Or is the Sabbath for our benefit? The Pharisees don’t bother to respond; they weren’t convinced.

We know that because they kept watching. They were waiting to pounce. And the opportunity came shortly after that. They followed him into a synagogue and saw him call out to a man with disabled hand, “Come here.” Then they heard his question for them: “What does the Law say? On the Sabbath, should we do good or do harm? Should we save a life or take a life?” And they said nothing.

You see, they had the rules on their side… but he had the Power on his side. And when Jesus called on the man to stretch out his hand and allowed it to be restored, “the Pharisees went out to conspire how to destroy Jesus.” Jesus chose to save a life, the Rule Keepers chose to take a life.

Now, this wasn’t the first time something like this happened. A number of years ago, I preached on the Sabbath every Sunday during the summer. There was no shortage of biblical material, and fortunately no shortage of patience on the part of the congregation. You know, when a preacher keeps hammering away at the same issue week after week, everybody starts to perceive what the preacher must be working through.

So one Sunday, near the end of the series, I read a paragraph from the 15^th chapter of the book of Numbers. When Israel was in the wilderness, they found a man gathering sticks on the Sabbath. So they dragged him before Moses and Aaron, to ask what they should do. Nobody was sure. So the Lord said, “Put him to death by stoning.” Sticks and stones… I don’t remember the point of that sermon, but I’ve never forgotten that text. Nor have I forgotten the look on some of your faces.

How should we keep the Sabbath? I can’t think of a stranger question in the suburbs because most people don’t have a clue what a Sabbath is. People are on the go all the time. If they sit still, they feel guilty. Or worth-less. Or unproductive. Stillness and too much quiet stir up all that undigested experience that they’ve been racing to stay ahead of. And in these reality-show days, a lot of people create some noise to stay ahead of the noise in their own heads.

Sometimes my kids would plop down in a chair and say, “We’re bored.” Know what I would say? “It’s good to be bored; boredom means that you are in a holding pattern, ceasing activity, and mulling over some possibilities.” Katie would look at Meg and say, “We have the weirdest Dad in the world.” Meg would say, “Amen, sister.” Then off they would go.

About ten minutes later, here they come again. “Dad, we’re bored.” And I’d say, “Good! What an opportunity to develop your inner life! Read a book, write a poem, compose a symphony, or listen the bird song. There’s nothing wrong with cultivating depth and imagination and spirit.” Meg would look at Katie and say, “Not only is he weird, he’s crazy.” Katie would say, “Amen, sister.” Off they would go.

The rhythm would continue. Once in a while, they would get really quiet. So I would creep up silently to see what was going on. Meg would be working on a coloring book, Katie would be chasing a butterfly in the back yard. Yes! Maybe they’re going to get it after all.

The best way to keep Sabbath is by saving a life, beginning with your own. You don’t save a life by running it into the ground. You can’t save a life by hovering over things you can’t control or trying to prove that you’re important, essential, or invaluable. By resting on the seventh day, God got it right. It was all about restoration, replenishment, and giving the world some breathing room - and that sets the pattern for everything that God has created.   

So I don’t know what is going to save your life on this Christian Sabbath, which is our recurring day of resurrection. Maybe it’s kneeling in the potting soil, taking a stroll on the rail trail, or catching up on a nap. Whatever it is, let some life return to your soul. That’s the promise of keeping Sabbath, a true Sabbath.

If you’re rushing out of here to catch a tee time, meet friends for brunch, or drive to visit some family, try giving yourself some extra time. Build in some pauses, a time to breathe. Nothing is ever improved by rushing. As the psychologist Carl Jung once quipped, “Hurry is not of the devil; hurry is the devil.”

And by all means, practice some restraint. We can’t force anything on anybody, neither can we say all that we think we need to say. If you feel the need to take down somebody’s wet laundry so that you can make some grand statement, don’t do it. That’s intrusive and rude. And Sabbath keeping means that we give some room for other people to exist without the need to fix them.

Take some time today to recalibrate your expectations of how little you are actually able to accomplish, and how much more God can do beyond your efforts. It’s about breathing. I came across some wisdom from Thomas Merton which was life-giving to me, and hopefully will be for you:

The rush and pressure of modern life are a form of its innate violence. To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything, is to succumb to violence…It destroys our own inner capacity for peace. It destroys the fruitfulness of our own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful.[1]

The antidote? To be still for a while, to be here together, to gather together in worship and listen to the Word of God. For this is the place where we hear once again that God has set us free from any delusion about running the world. We spend some Sabbath right here, together, and Jesus fills us with life. 

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.

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[1] Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1966) p. 73