Sabbath

I work six days a week. From sunrise to sunset six days a week I teach, I grade, I plan and I assess. I pray each morning that God will help me to see the material clearly and to steward well the frighteningly precious students he has given me to teach. And I work as hard as I know how while still trying to be present for my neighbors.

But to my amazement God doesn't want us to work seven days. The God of the Bible commands rest. Our Jewish parents rested on the seventh day after a week of hard labor. One of the privileges of following Yahweh in this age is that we rest at the beginning of the week. We start our work Monday morning from a place of rest.

So on Sundays I Sabbath. I begin the day with Holy Communion at the parish I am attending in Oklahoma City. And then I let the wind carry me, praying thanksgiving along the way. Today I ate lunch after Sunday school with the Parker family and we talked about Ireland and the Book of Kells and theology and music and pedagogy and love. Then a friend asked me to go to Lake Hefner. So we got pumpkin spice lattes and went and sat on stone stairs by our sadly shrunken lake watching rainbow sail boats and reading short stories out loud. A couple sat near us and talked quite loudly. I scowled at them, and then the man pulled out a violin. My jaw dropped and I apologized to God and the angels and everyone in all of history for scowling, and we sat and watched the lake and listened to him play.

And now, Shiner Bock and a movie with a neighbor. A heart full of praise and gratitude. If it were only the Eucharist, that would be enough. Just God's love is enough. But he gives me a family to eat with, a neighbor who loves me and is crazy, and a shimmering Fall sun. Tomorrow I will rise early and put all of my strength into the work God has given me. And I will not get it all done. But today in a leap of faith and gratitude I Sabbath.