`It may not be officially summer by the calendar but it sure feels that way—Memorial Day was last Monday. School will be out this week. Many of us are looking forward to the slower pace of summer with vacations, weekends away, time to relax with friends and family. In the liturgical calendar, we have also opened a new season. Officially the Episcopal Church calls this the Season after Pentecost. The liturgical color changes to green, and from now through the end of November, our gospel readings will focus on Jesus’ ministry and teachings as we read through the gospel of Mark, with another detour into the Gospel of John in August.
Somewhat deceptively, in the Roman Catholic calendar, this season is called “Ordinary Time”—which does not mean “ordinary” in our usual understanding, but refers to the ordinal numbers by the Sundays are named. We call them “propers”—from a Latin word; each Sunday has a set of readings that are specified for the day. But in another sense, ordinary time is an appropriate name for this season because it takes on a different vibe from the great seasons of Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent and Easter, which focus on the birth, crucifixion, and resurrection of Christ. Our attention in this season after Pentecost is drawn to our response to those mighty acts of salvation, to our growth in faith and discipleship as followers of Jesus.
These comments about the liturgical calendar and seasons offer an interesting backdrop to today’s gospel reading and the lesson from Deuteronomy with which it’s paired. This year, we’ll be reading from Track 2 of the lectionary, which provides readings from the Hebrew Bible that relate in some way to the day’s gospel reading. Track 1, which we followed the last time we were in this year B of the cycle, offers a semi-continuous reading of the Hebrew Bible, in year B, the focus is on the rise of the monarchy.
We are presented with two gospel stories, coupled together that focus on Sabbath observance. And in the Deuteronomy reading, we have a version of the commandment to keep the sabbath day holy.
As Americans, we have been acculturated to value individualism, and personal freedom above almost everything else, so the idea that we might not be able to do whatever we want, whether it be a load of laundry or going grocery shopping, on a particular day of the week, elicits visceral, negative responses. Although the weekend still has meaning for us as two days when most of us are off of work, the reality is that there are many—in the service industry for example, or those who work two jobs to make ends meet—who do not have the luxury of 2 days off in a row or a Sunday for relaxation, and perhaps, going to church.
And with the ubiquity of devices in our lives, most of us have to be very proactive not to be reading or responding to emails from the office, or texts from bosses or coworkers about projects or tasks that need to be completed.
Thus, when we hear the Pharisees complain about Jesus’ disciples picking and eating grain on the Sabbath, or their criticism of Jesus’ for healing a man with a withered hand, our reactions are in part shaped by all of those deeply ingrained cultural attitudes, as well as by two millennia of Christian anti-Judaism which contrasts pharisaic morality and legalism with the freedom offered by Jesus.
What we see here is not a conflict between rival religions but a conflict within Judaism; even a conflict within a particular movement in Judaism. Jesus and the Pharisees are not disagreeing about the Torah, they are disagreeing about its interpretation. Both would acknowledge the importance of the commandment “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” The question they are debating is what does it mean to keep the Sabbath day holy. Jesus says, “The Sabbath was made for humankind, not humankind for the Sabbath.” It’s quite similar to statements from rabbinic literature a century later (perhaps preserving earlier traditions): “The Sabbath is handed over to you, not you to it” and “Profane one Sabbath for a person’s sake, so that he may keep many Sabbaths.”
While the Sabbath is a day of rest in Judaism, it is also much more than that. As the great 20th century Jewish theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote in his little book The Sabbath:
On the Sabbath it is given us to share in the holiness that is in the heart of time. Even when the soul is seared, even when no prayer can come out of our tightened throats, the clean, silent rest of the Sabbath leads us to a realm of endless peace, or to the beginning of an awareness of what eternity means. … Eternity utters a day.
But what did Jesus mean when he said, “The Sabbath was made for humankind, not humankind for the Sabbath?” We might be inclined to think that the Sabbath then is dependent on human interpretation, or human desire for keeping it, but it’s likely Jesus meant something rather different.
To get at this question, it’s worth going back to the commandment. There are two versions of it in Hebrew scripture, and we heard the less familiar one, from the book of Deuteronomy, not from Exodus 20:8-11 where the commandment to keep the Sabbath holy and to rest on that day is connected with God’s actions in creation—creating the universe and humankind on the first six days and on the seventh day creating the sabbath: creating, resting, blessing the seventh day and hallowing it.
It’s not only that God created, blessed, and sanctified the Sabbath; God also blessed and sanctified rest itself. Indeed, we can see that in addition to being a God who creates, God is also a God who rests and in so doing, offers us the gift of blessed and sanctified rest.
Imagine that.
In our frantic world, when we have made ourselves slaves to our devices, to our email and texts, when so many of us are never disconnected from our jobs, God offers us the gift of blessed and sanctified rest. We can disconnect, slow down, and stop—and, most importantly, we don’t need to feel guilty about it, because God has given us the opportunity, the gift, of sanctified and blessed rest.
The reason for keeping the Sabbath day holy and for resting is rather different in our text: “Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the Sabbath day.”
To put it bluntly, here observance of the Sabbath is also connected with God’s nature and God’s actions. But in this case what is emphasized is God’s act of liberation of God’s people—the deliverance of the Hebrews out of slavery in Egypt. So Sabbath is partially an act of remembrance of what God has done, and who God’s people are, but it is also liberation or freedom, in the sense that on this day, God’s people do not have labor and toil as they did while they were slaves in Egypt; or to use a contemporary metaphor, slaves to the almighty dollar.
But Sabbath is not a day of rest, remembrance, and liberation for myself alone; it is also a day of rest for everyone—male and female, slave and free, and even one’s animals. The day of rest extends to all of creation! In that sense, the commandment to rest on the Sabbath connects up with the commandment to love one’s neighbors. It is an act of love of others to allow them to rest, as well.
In his wonderful little book, Sabbath as Resistance, Hebrew Bible scholar Walter Brueggeman takes it a step further. Noting that we are caught up in a consuming and commodity culture, where our value is based on what we have and buy and where we are bombarded by advertising, made anxious when we don’t accumulate enough stuff, or enough for retirement, Sabbath is also an act of resistance against that anxious and acquisitive culture. He writes:
I have come to think that the fourth commandment on Sabbath is the most difficult and most urgent of the commandments in our society, because it summons us to intent and conduct that defies the most elemental requirements of a commodity-propelled society that specializes in control and entertainment, bread and circuses … along with anxiety and violence
I encourage all of you to look for ways of bringing Sabbath into your lives and the life of your families, whether it be for a day, a half-day, or even an hour; to enjoy the blessed and sanctified rest of a restful God, and to experience the freedom in a God who liberates us.