Rest does not come easily to some people because it means being alone. The camaraderie of the workplace and the marketplace can bring enjoyment, while the solitude of home can hang heavy. Saying "I like to be busy" is not always a sign of obsessive overwork. It can also be a straightforward declaration of joy in the bustle of shared endeavors. I think of Ione, who lived and worked at a Christian retreat center. "Do I have to take a day off?" she plaintively asked the director.

Insisting on forms of sabbath keeping that push Ione and others into isolation would be cruel. Yet acceding without protest to her desire to work every day would mean missing an important opportunity to help her see that she has value, to and with God and other people, apart from work. Shared worship is an important part of this. So are shared meals, outings, and conversations.

A single friend who has been thinking about the practice of keeping sabbath is concerned about one activity that has been a source of weekly enjoyment for years. On Sunday mornings, she drives from the suburb where she lives into the city, where she belongs to a church where many are single professionals. After the service, a group goes out to eat in a restaurant. These lunches are fun, supportive occasions. My friend is aware, however, that this group would know one another better if they ate in the more personal atmosphere of their homes. Moreover she finds that her notion of sabbath freedom makes her uncomfortable when she is always the one who is being served on this day, usually by people whose economic class denies them any compensatory sabbath freedom. She has resolved to invite some church friends to Sunday lunch at her home, but so far its distance from her home and her failure to plan ahead have stood in the way. In the meantime, she continues to eat out on Sunday. Even though I share her concerns, I am glad that she has this form of refreshment each week.

In a time when social forces pull people apart — in distance, by age, by class — we need to be creative, even when we are retrieving venerable traditions. Since my family lives near our church, reclaiming the custom of inviting people to a Sunday dinner is easier for us. This works best, I find, when we share a meal that does not require elaborate preparations, just a pot of soup made the day before. I know another family that volunteers in a soup kitchen for the homeless one Sunday each month. For many others, the freedom of sabbath permits visits or phone calls to those who don't get out much due to illness or age. Though the day should not be overburdened with charitable obligations, realizing that there is time for simple kindness is a blessing all around.

Points of Resistance

For many families, the most urgent question about sabbath is this: what about soccer and baseball and ice hockey? John Cardinal O'Connor, archbishop of New York City, recently made the news by criticizing the young altar servers who use their Little League games as an excuse for getting out of church. The New York Times visited the city's parks the next Sunday and reported on parents' reactions, which ranged from "He's out of touch" to "The first priority on Sunday is rest and worship; it's not easy, but we fit everything else around that."

Actually, children playing ball in the park while parents watch and chat is a fine image of sabbath, as far as I'm concerned. "Do not play" is not a theologically astute interpretation of the sabbath commandment, and it is said that John Calvin, the Protestant reformer, liked to bowl on Sunday afternoons, a bit of history suppressed by his theological heirs. A friend who grew up among Dutch-American Calvinists tells me that the children in his family invented a sabbath nongame called "sidewalk tag." You pursued your prey by walking (running was forbidden on Sundays) very fast along the sidewalk (going on the grass was forbidden as well).

Making children — or adults — sit still and stay on the sidewalk is not necessary. At the same time, in the overheated reality of contemporary American sports, participating usually entails much more than strolling down to the park after Sunday worship and lunch. Children and their parents can be swept up in demanding requirements that have little to do with play, including fundraising and travel to distant competitions. Worse, they can get the idea that athletic prowess is the supreme measure of personal worth.

Parents need to set some limits, and the practice of keeping sabbath provides a structure for doing so. The Massachusetts Council of Churches, which encompasses fifteen Protestant denominations, has begun a campaign to urge parents, coaches, and park departments to protect Sundays until 1 p.m. as a public time of rest. Though this policy does not address every objection that might be raised, it does signal resistance to the ultimacy of sports in our culture and takes the pressure off at least a few hours of each week. It also invites parents to think more carefully about how the shape of time forms their children in and for a way of life. Ideally, parents and others who care for children will work together to create livable and life-giving schedules for working things out in a busy, pluralistic society. Sometimes, however, we will need to say, simply and clearly, "That is something we cannot do today."




2000 by Dorothy C. Bass

From Receiving the Day: Christian Practices for Opening the Gift of Time by Dorothy C. Bass (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, Inc., 2000). Used by arrangement with Jossey-Bass Publishers Inc.