According to the bible, the Sabbath day begins at sundown and ends the next day at sundown. The Sabbath is meant to be a day of rest (the Hebrew is Shabbat, from the verb shabat, which means ‘to rest’). It’s God’s fourth command in the Ten Commandments:
“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your male or female servant, nor your animals, nor any foreigner residing in your towns. For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.” – Exodus 20: 8-11
The command to rest comes before not murdering, not cheating on your spouse, and not stealing, so it must be serious, right?
Growing up, we always went to church (I hated it then) and then came home and ate a brunch of scrambled cheese-eggs and bacon. Every now and then we would stop at the donut store on the way home, where my dad would get a big apple fritter and I’d get a cake donut with pink frosting. I still have a thing for pink frosting to this day. It felt like a reward for enduring 60 grueling minutes of unrelenting, the-time’s-never-passing boredom.
These days (I love church now), though I have the inherent charge of setting an example to my children, I have no idea what to “do” on the Sabbath. It’s meant to be a gift – no working, all resting. But that means planning ahead – making food the previous day, doing all the laundry beforehand, and getting what I need at the store before the sun hits the horizon so that no “foreigner” has to work for me.
For a Type Z person like me, who lives purely in the present moment, this requires more planning than I ever enjoy.
Once I get to Sunday, then what? I kinda like “doing” things. If I don’t “do” things, what should I “do”? Have a picnic planned out and read the bible on our blanket by the sea? Cozy on the couch together and doze off to the sounds of Praise 106.5? Open the tomes and play “Find That Scripture Verse” for a few hours?
I’ve tried these, yes, but they feel forced. Like work. Are there some sheets I can wash or maybe a floor that needs scrubbing?
Work becomes a tricky word on Sundays. “Ah, to waterproof my leather boots would provide me comfort…To weed the springy garden would warm my chill…To purge books from my shelves t’would lighten my load,” I hear my thoughts say. On Sundays, I seem to think up a million projects that just haven’t fit into the other six days of the week. To accomplish them would provide such relief! But lo, I spurn such unholy thoughts and instead sit idly by in impatient “rest.”
The Sabbath is also not meant to be legalistic, which would make it into a rules-y, militaristic experience. I’ve been there more than a time or two. “Hey family, we’re not ‘supposed to’ go to the store. That leaves us with some celery sticks and mayo sandwiches. Suck it up.” Hmmm. Not very inspiring for young children. Or hungry husbands, who step out quietly for a quick jaunt to the market to mingle with some friendly foreigners.
Hospitality is big in the bible. Nothing like feeling especially bogged down at the thought of serving 20 spontaneous guests either a beautiful Saturday-pre-prepped spread of quiche Lorraines and brioche French toast, or an embarrassing Sunday-I-promise-there-was-no-work-involved platter of said celery and mayo sandwiches.
Or maybe we can just fill our bellies with the oodles of goodies that await us downstairs after church, then hope they hold us over until the sun sets. But then someone had to work to get all those ready! Dang. Oh, but come to think of it, the pastor worked all morning leading the service and giving the sermon! Shoot. And think of all those nice people who missed the service in order to teach the Sunday school classes – that darn work thing is unavoidable! Can we just meet on a grassy hill and bring our leftovers from the day before so no one has to work and the kids can all just roll all over the grass? Hmmm. Not really in winter.
Well, if the Wright Brothers stopped flying on Sundays, we can do this Sabbath thing too. I’m still not sure how. But for now, I’ve realized that Saturday is really my “secret” Sabbath day. I made the realization a year ago. I sleep in on Saturdays. I feel lighthearted on Saturdays. Everything is happy on Saturdays. No have-tos or can’ts on Saturdays. Pure freedom. Pure rest for the soul. A foreigner bagging my groceries here and there, perhaps. But ahhh, what laze and sloth come with it being a Saturday. Then it’s back to brushing my hair and putting on public-appropriate clothes on Sunday.
I’m still trying to figure out what to “do” on that seventh day of the week, but I don’t think God imagined us riding the Sabbath in on “Weird Al” Yankovic’s coattails. As I imagine devout Jews around the world lighting candles and billowing the air toward their faces to begin a day devoted to prayer and praise, I also imagine them donning sackcloth and ashes at the sight of last night’s perhaps irreverent revelry at our house.
The Sabbath opened to the sounds of “Amish Paradise,” a parody of a song called “Gangsta’s Paradise” by Coolio. It’s hilarious. And the religious bent to it counts, right God?
You can only imagine where that led. To more. The next one we found was “Inactive,” a parody of Imagine Dragons’ “Radioactive.” We love the original song, and the parody is so dang funny!
And then there’s of course “Weird Al’s” spoof of Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” called “Smells Like Nirvana,” a hilarious take on the fact that you can’t figure out what any of Nirvana’s lyrics actually say. And quite the accurate rendition of the real video.
Well, as you can guess, we continued blasting each new “Weird Al” song we could find, our younger one and me dancing nonstop in the kitchen, all four of us laughing and carrying on.
We learned that my husband and “Weird Al” went to the same college, rode the same bus, even worked in the same radio station. They never knew each other, but my husband still remembers seeing him sitting at the back of the bus.
As for what God expects of us, I hope last night was allowable. Then again, all the other Sundays have been pretty crummy attempts at nailing the Sabbath.
Forgive my sins, God, and teach me how to rest properly!
Photo is “Weird Al” Yankovic’s Off the Deep End album cover, a parody of Nirvana’s Nevermind album cover.
