Sabbath

I believe in the Ten Commandments, and I also believe that they are foundational in our Judeo-Christian beliefs and legal system. I had to get that all straight before I launch into this one.

Occasionally my wife tells me that I should honor the Sabbath and rest. The fourth commandment is clear and dear to me and says that I should honor God by resting on the Sabbath. I do not ever want to hurt my witness with someone saying that I am dishonoring God, but I have an interpretation of what constitutes rest that may be different than others. Cheryl thinks of rest as napping, reading, lounging around, etc. I don’t like naps; I don’t like to sit inside and just stare outside. I like to be outside. I think of rest as working outside—tending to my animals or garden or pasture. I get great pleasure in working with God’s creations and God’s good earth. Working outside is like therapy to me. When I am caring for my animals or caring for our garden or even driving the tractor, I don’t consider any of that as work.

Anyone who knows my mom and dad understands me better. My parents are still going strong—or at least I think it is strong for their age. They embedded a strong work ethic in me. They picked butterbeans in their garden right beside Cheryl and me during a recent visit. As I worked my way through the bean patch, my back was hurting and I was on my knees most of the time, but I knew better than to complain.  My mom and dad were right in there with us.

The challenge for me comes with the definition of rest and of work. I agree that most everyone would define it just as Cheryl would—refraining from anything that smells like work. Rest can mean a lot of things: a rhythmic silence in music, what a column does on a foundation, sleep, stopping all activity that causes exertion, what farmland does when no crop is planted on it, etc.

I think of rest as a time of recovering strength. It would seem strange if you saw me sweating while doing some of my “resting.” My time outside is a refreshing of my mind, body and soul. Some of my best quiet times with God are when I am “working” on the farm.

This afternoon I picked peas from our garden. I sweated something fierce. It started raining, and I did not stop. I was soaking wet with sweat and rain, but I continued to pick—and I loved it. Was it work? Maybe for some people, but for me it was perspiration therapy. I brought the peas up to the house and I invited three granddaughters to help me shell them. For an hour we talked and shelled peas. No TV was on and the only entertainment was us talking with each other and telling stories about things we have done together this summer. Was it work? Not for me and I don’t think it was for the girls either. It was fun!

Now there are some chores on our hobby farm that I definitely consider work—mowing grass and running the weed trimmer. I don’t do things like that on Sunday as I consider that work. Picking blueberries or feeding my goats – that’s not work for me.

Cheryl and I have just spent a week of vacation with two grandchildren at a Christian Dude Ranch in Colorado. I left my computer at home. Several of the guests asked me for a business card, but I did not take any with me. I had a Sabbath Week. For the first time in years I read an entire novel in one week. I relaxed, but I admit that I thought about all that email that was piling up in my inbox. It is now late Sunday evening, and I am typing on my computer. I want desperately to work on some of that email, but I am trying hard not to “work.” Can it wait until tomorrow morning? Yes, but it will be a very hard Monday. As bad as I want to do email, I am not going to do so because I feel convicted that would be work and it would not be a good example for my colleagues.

As I have been typing, the sun has set. The Sabbath is over. So, should I do that email?!?