“The Sabbath Pendulum”

Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Sunday August 22, 2010

Jeremiah 1: 4-10

Psalm 71

Hebrews 12: 18-29

Whether we like to admit it or not, we are nearing the end of the summer. 

For some, this comes as good news.  The heat and humidity; the eternal and infernal delays because of road construction; the bugs; the discomfort of having to listen to long sermons while sitting in old buildings which were constructed before air conditioning – not everything about summer is to be celebrated. 

But there are many wonderful dimensions to the summer season – including, for many of us, an opportunity to find a bit of extra time to rest and relax.  Ever since we were in school, as children, the summer symbolizes a break from the ordinary routines and rhythms of life; it symbolizes a chance to sit in the sunshine, and to enjoy the outdoors, free of winter parkas and snow boots. 

We all know, deep within us, that times for rest are important in life.  We need ‘down’ time; we need to feel liberated from the normal stresses; we need to break the rhythm every once in a while and seek a better sense of balance.  Rest is good.

Those of us who seek to follow the path of faith are called to remember that rest is divinely mandated.  Included in the Ten Commandments – alongside, and in many ways equal to the prohibitions of murder, stealing and adultery – is a commandment to set a day apart, each week.  Remember the Sabbath, and keep it holy.

The concept of a Sabbath day, a time of rest, far pre-dates the Jewish or Christian traditions, stretching back into the mysts of antiquity.  The idea assumes that time moves in both a linear and a cyclical pattern, and that every seven days is to be set apart as a day of rest and a day to re-focus oneself on one’s relationship with God, and one’s place in the community.  The idea of a Sabbath, as many have observed, creates a form of architecture in time itself, a cathedral that is not defined by the limits of physical space, but by the temporal rhythms and cycles of life.  To enter Sabbath time is to enter a different way of being, which creates a flow, a dynamism between the cycles of work and the cycles of rest – in the knowledge that life needs both work and rest, both struggle and restoration, both striving and rejuvenation, in order to flourish.

But there are times when we lose our vision of what the intention behind Sabbath was all about.  There are times when we lose this balance, this pendulum that the Sabbath creates– which leads us to the passage that is suggested for this particular Sunday in the Church year.

Today’s reading from the Gospel of Luke is only one of a number of passages which recount incidents in Jesus’ life in which he got into trouble for his Sabbath activities.  In actual fact, one of the most controversial subjects in Jesus’ debates with his critics concerned his activities on the Sabbath day. 

In this case, the situation arose because of the presence of a woman who had been crippled for eighteen years.  As the passage begins, we are simply informed that Jesus was teaching in the synagogue, when a woman appeared.  His words seemed to be interrupted, as he called to her to come over towards him.  He looked at her, and stated, “woman, you are set free from your ailment.”  There were no questions about how she had gotten into those difficulties, no discussions of whether or not she believed, no grand demonstrations in which he tried to call attention to the miracle that he was about to perform.  To the contrary, he simply saw a person in need and reacted to her situation.

Jesus’ actions did not go unnoticed, however.  The leader of the synagogue was not particularly impressed. 

In verse 14, we read, “but the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the Sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done, come on those days and be cured, and not on the Sabbath day.”” 

Did you notice who the leader was speaking to?  The leader was not speaking to Jesus, who had effected the miraculous cure; nor was he addressing his words to the woman, suggesting that she should have come back at another time.  Instead, the leader was speaking ‘to the crowd’.  He “kept saying to the crowd” that there were six days when they could come looking for miracles; today was the Sabbath, a day to focus not on human needs but on God.  Perhaps the leader was attempting some ancient form of crowd control; perhaps he was trying to ensure that everything in the synagogue would be done decently and in order; in any case, the appearance of Jesus in that religious community was threatening to upset the nice, stable, peaceful setting that the leader of the synagogue was seeking to maintain.  Like so many of us who are called to serve in positions of leadership in religious communities throughout the ages, the leader seemed to be quite fearful of what would happen to his community if people actually started showing up looking for Jesus, and longing to be transformed by his touch. 

But Jesus would not be silenced. His words were pointed and somewhat harsh.  “You hypocrites!  Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to give it water?  And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondange on the Sabbath day?” 

His point was clear.  On that Sabbath day, this suffering woman, this daughter of Abraham, had been liberated; she had been set free from her ailment; she had been restored. 

The passage does not recount for the reaction of the leader of the synagogue to Jesus’ words and actions – but the reaction of the crowds is clear. We read, “the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing.”

 

It is important for us to remember, as we read this text, that the leader of the synagogue was not seeking to be inconsiderate in his statements about working on six days and resting on the seventh.  He never suggested that he did not want the woman to be healed.  Rather, he was simply trying to uphold the law with its stipulations about Sabbath observance.

So often, when we read such passages, we interpret them as an assessment of the inadequacies of trying to obey the demands and obligations of the law.  We read them as if Jesus’ issue was with the Law, itself, and that he was suggesting some form of liberty and freedom rooted in grace and unencumbered by the rules and regulations prescribed by the religious authorities of his day.  As a result, we castigate anything that smacks of ‘legalism’, or accuse anyone that tries to encourage obedience of trying to earn God’s grace.

But such an assessment may be inaccurate to the issue in this passage.  Rather than discouraging obedience to the Law, Christ may instead have been inviting his listeners to remember the intention of the Law.  Obedience may or may not be shaped by an understanding of intention.

It is like a young child.  When we are on camping trips, we tell children to stay back from the campfire.  Those children may not realize the consequences of getting too close to the fire, and complain that we are trying to limit their freedom and their fun.  Alternately, a child may obey the command out of a fear of the repercussions and discipline that may happen if they disobey our instruction.  But both complaining about the limitations placed on their freedom, and obeying out of a fear of discipline overlooks the intent of our instruction to stay back from the fire. The intention is to enhance their pleasure, to make sure that they have the best possible time while camping.  The command is given for their own good and with the intent of helping them to avoid a situation which would undermine their enjoyment.

So what, then, is the intention behind the Sabbath commandment?  And what might Jesus have been attempting to convey in his words and in his actions about his understanding of the Sabbath day?

In order to comprehend the intention behind God’s call to observe Sabbath, it is important for us to remember that there are two passages that list the Ten Commandments.  One of these passages is found in Exodus 20; the other is found in Deuteronomy 5.  They are the same list of commandments, but there is a striking difference between the two passages.  And that difference is found in the explanations that are offered for the reasons, motivations and intentions of Sabbath observance.

In the Exodus passage, the observance of the Sabbath is rooted into the ancient narrative of creation.  “For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them; but rested the seventh day; therefore, the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and consecrated it.”  Sabbath, therefore, was intended to restore original rhythm of work and rest, of creation and recreation.    Sabbath was about restoration.  

In the Deuteronomy version of the Ten Commandments, by contrast, the observance of Sabbath is rooted in the exodus story.  “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.”  In Deuteronomy, the reason for Sabbath observance was to serve as a perpetual reminder of being liberated, and being set free from the burden of oppression.

According to the Law itself, therefore, the observance of Sabbath – the meaning of Sabbath – was so that people would have the opportunity to remember and to experience God’s gift of liberation, of being set free, of being restored.  

Liberated; set free; restored on the Sabbath-- exactly what the crippled woman experienced, that Sabbath day, in the presence of Christ.  Christ may not have been protesting the Law; he may, instead, have been reminding the crowd what Sabbath was intended to be all about.

But this raises a rather intriguing irony as we read this story in this modern time. 

As reflected in the Pharisees’ words and actions, it seems that the pendulum, in Jesus’ day, had swung too far in the direction of a narrow, prescribed and legalistic observance of the Sabbath.  But if the pendulum in Jesus’ day had swung too far in the direction of a tightly controlled observance, it might actually be argued that we live in a time when the pendulum has likely swung too far in the opposite direction.  Is it possible that we have forgotten the intent of Sabbath as much – or more – than the Pharisee did?

Consider, after all, that if the people of Jesus’ day were oppressed by a tightly ordered observance of the Sabbath, we are oppressed by a lack of any observance of the Sabbath whatsoever.

In our day, and in our culture, observance of a Sabbath day is a rare and disappearing concept.  Many businesses expect people to have to work on Sundays, which was the Christian – and for a long period of time, our cultural -- Sabbath day.  Young people now find it difficult to find employment which frees them to attend church on a regular basis.  Clubs and activities and sports teams no longer give even passing consideration to the possibility of religious commitments precluding participation in their games and activities, and many consider that making sure that their kids attend all of their hockey practices is more important than the cultivation of their spiritual lives and their relationship with God.  Shopping malls and grocery stores are open 7 days a week, and most of us in the Church opt for the convenience of shopping on our Sabbath over the obedience to the idea of taking a day off from the ceaseless cycle of consumerism.  The Church even continues to defer to the tendency to elevate the insights of pop psychology over the ancient truths of our spiritual traditions, with the culturally palatable thesis that God probably mandated taking a day off because it is beneficial for our psychological health.  For many, if not most, the idea of a day of rest has simply become the day when we get the rest of the week’s work done.

In this culture that no longer has any true appreciation for the idea or the observance of Sabbath, we find ourselves suffering from levels of stress, family breakdown, cultural and ecological alienation, and profound spiritual angst that are reaching epidemic levels.   We now define ourselves – almost entirely – by what and how much we produce and consume, and our identity is shaped not by who we are, but by what we do. We are slaves to a culture and a system in which our work defines us – and oppresses us.  Although we work long hours, we are increasingly burdened down and crippled by debts that are amassed, at least in part, from the fact that we are buying and selling every day of the week.

We need liberation; we need to be set free; we need restoration.  We need Sabbath.

Which, ironically, is exactly what the woman in this story both needed, and received, from Christ.  He saw her in her stooped state, burdened and weighed down.  And he liberated her; he set her free; he restored her.  And he did so on the Sabbath. 

Is it possible that the same Jesus who acted out of compassion towards that woman, and out of a true understanding of the intent of the Law, on that Sabbath day so long ago, might be seeking to do the same for us?  Is it possible that Jesus is calling us to remember what Sabbath was meant for – a day of liberation, a day to be set free from burdens that cripple us, a day to experience the restoration that can only come from God?

Perhaps the Sabbath, the day of rest, is not a time for legalistic wrangling about what should and should not be done on the Sabbath, but nor is it a time to do whatever we would like; rather, it is intended as a liberating, freeing, restoring gift from a God who loves us.

May we embrace that gift; may we extend that gift to others; may we keep the Sabbath, for in Christ, we are a liberated people; we are a people set free; we are a people who have been restored to God. 

Thanks be to God.