Posts Tagged ‘sabbath’

Weakened

May 16, 2009

Or should it say weekend?

Some of us get to Saturday morning, full of energy, full of projects, full of passion to “get something done.” The rest of us get to Saturday morning dragging. We have been busy all week. We are struggling with a list of activities that got longer during the week, rather than shorter. Saturday morning has a list of projects, yes, but it also comes with a list of obligations that is even longer. We drag the tasks from the wee, hoping to get some done before Monday.

Unless we work on the weekend anyway. In which case Saturday is already a work day and full of activities and the longing for time off to match the schedules of our friends.

And we arrive at the weekend exhausted, carrying a backpack full of obligations and eyes full of dreams and a heart that is weary. And God’s response is not to give us the strength to keep pushing through. God’s response is to tell us to forget about that workd for a day a week.

What a burden that is. To have to talk off perfectly good working time in order to obey God? To lose track of all those projects while taking a day to play? To not be productive, on purpose, for one seventh of my waking time?

What kind of system is that!

Wait. What kind of system is leaving everyone I know tired. What kind of system is exhausting people, is putting rings around eyes. What kind of system has me yawning as I write?

Oh. That’s right. A system built about me rather that being built for me.

Jesus invited us to come to him for rest. And so, being the weekend, I invite you to listen to him. With me.

looking for a reason

May 7, 2009

Sometimes you have conversations that are conversations. Sometimes questions are asked for the purpose of finding out the answer.

“How is it with your soul?” is a question seeking an answer, trying to help someone else reflect.

“What is the question you don’t want me to ask?” is a question about trust, about helping someone discern what is going on in their heart.

Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?” is a research kind of question. It could lead to a wonderful reflection on what sabbath really means, about what is restful, about the line between restorative activity and work.

Jesus goes that direction, using very clear comparative legal reasoning. “You’ll take care of a sheep. A man is worth more than a sheep. Therefore taking care of a man is acceptable.”

It is clear and accurate…and wasted.

They didn’t care at all about the answer. They cared about trapping Jesus, about finding a reason to kill him.

They asked the question knowing that the better his answer, the more wrong he would be. And he knew that the better his answer was, the more in trouble he would be.

And he didn’t back down. They asked. He answered truthfully and skillfully and then he healed the man. Because for Jesus, this was not an abstract conversation about theology. This was about a man with a hand that needed to be fixed.

——–

Join me in the mirror for a moment for some more questions:

1. When you know someone has argumentative questions, do you answer or avoid?

2. Is your answer adequate or technically brilliant?

3. Are you more about winning the argument or healing the person that is being used as bait?

4. For the sake of a person, will you risk everything?

Jesus wasn’t looking for a reason. He had one.

New rules

May 6, 2009

The rules were very clear, at least to some people.

If you are in a field and you are hungry and you pick some of the grain and eat it because you are incredibly hungry from living on the move, you are wrong.

Not because if you eat too many oats you’ll get sick like the eight-year-old kid I was in camp with whose name I don’t remember but who ate way too many oats while we were hiking to a cookout and got sick. I mean really sick.

That’s the kind of rule that makes tremendous sense. It protects other 8-year-old boys and their counselors from unnecessary cleanups in the middle of the night. No, this rule said that grabbing some grain just to take the edge off the growling of your stomach counts as full-blown harvesting of grain. And on the Sabbath, harvesting of grain is wrong.

I understand the larger rule. The todo list will never get done. There is a place for rest. There need to be limits. To make, however, grabbing a handul of wheat to chew on a major rule is, it seems, a little over the top.

Which is what Jesus says.

The rule of the Sabbath is, Jesus suggests, a principle. It is better to eat and break the rule than to pass out but be obedient. It is better to look for mercy than to measure the sacrifices. It is better to value people than to build elaborate rule structures that devalue them. It is better to look at what is happening than to blindly apply human rules. It is better to talk with the Maker of the rules than to condemn him.

It is better to be with Jesus in a field on a Sabbath picking grain than anywhere else.

A break from obligation

January 24, 2009

I was thinking the other day about how God provided the manna for the Israelite in the wilderness.

Okay, so I don’t know exactly how he did it. But I do know that he provided exactly the right amount for one day’s food on each of five days. On the sixth day he provided exactly enough for two days. As a result, on the seventh day he didn’t provide any and no one had to collect any.

I thought about the manna in relation to this blog.

I’m exploring following Jesus three-hundred words a day. I started out to write every day. I realized that writing every day doesn’t permit a sabbath, a day of rest, for you or for me.

I realized I could schedule posts ahead of time, but that still puts things into your email or feed reader every day, putting a burden on you and on me to keep up, to answer comments.

I realized that I need to schedule a day to not have to think for this blog.

So my plan is to put up a post on Saturday. This will be for the weekend. That way you can read Saturday or Sunday. And I won’t have to write on Saturday night or for Saturday night.  I think it will bring some freedom.

And I leave you and I with words of Mark Buchanan from The Rest of God:

There is a terrible cost to our busyness. It erodes memory. Or worse than that, it turns good memory into mere nostalgia–memory falsified and petrified–and turns bad memory into bloodhounds that chase us to rend us, that keep us ever running, dodging, backtracking. Busyness destroys the time we need to remember well.

In the confusion, we forget who we are. The broken pieces remain strewn.