Abstract
Celebrating the Sabbath Spirit
Twenty-five years ago I visited the Holy Land on a study tour. Our party was invited to celebrate the Sabbath with a Jewish family in Jerusalem. Every Friday evening they opened up their home to all-comers, without knowing in advance how many would turn up. We shared a hearty meal of chicken stew, the kind that can be added to if more people than expected come along. And there was singing, prayers and testimony on what was a very convivial occasion.
Afterwards our party walked back to our hotel across the city, and as we passed synagogues, we saw people going in or spilling out onto the streets. It seemed that the whole city was celebrating the Sabbath. I’ve never forgotten the spirit of that Sabbath in Jerusalem, with its hospitality and worship and celebration.
Local traders in the town where I live say that Sunday is their busiest day of the week. People meet up for breakfast or lunch at one of the town’s many eating houses. On sunny Sundays families flock to the gardens around the ancient Abbey ruins. A recently-established monthly market selling ‘artisan’ produce brings in more visitors. And yes, some can be seen entering and leaving our churches. For those not at work, Sundays are a welcome break from the rest of the week. But my town’s Sabbath is essentially secular.
Different Sabbaths, each with their own spirit. Some elements overlap, some are quite distinct. Yet each contributes to the regular rhythms of a place.
Jesus observed the Sabbath. In today’s gospel (Lk 13.10–17) he was teaching in the synagogue, interpreting the law of Moses or one of the prophets. But then the proceedings were interrupted by the appearance of a woman with an eighteen-year stoop. Jesus instinctively called her over, laid hands on her and healed her, so that she stood tall and praised God. But the synagogue’s leader, together with a number of other worshippers, wasn’t impressed. ‘She should have come for healing on one of the other six days of the week, not on the Sabbath.’ Jesus was equally unimpressed with them. ‘You would untie your donkey or ox and lead them to water on the Sabbath, so why not free this daughter of Abraham who’s been bound by her condition for eighteen long years?’ His critics were shamed, while the rest of the congregation rejoiced. What was the Sabbath spirit in the synagogue that day?
The obligation to keep the Sabbath went back to Moses. The commandment is repeated twice in the Torah, with different reasons for keeping the day holy. In Exodus 20.10, it’s because God rested from his work of creation on the seventh day. In Deuteronomy 5.15, it’s so that Israel can remember their ancestors’ release from slavery in Egypt. Observing the Sabbath creates a weekly rhythm, time, and space to enter into God’s rest and celebrate his life-giving and liberating labour.
Some non-Jews in Jesus’ world saw the Sabbath as a weekly opportunity for Jews to do nothing for a whole day. The Stoic philosopher Seneca (4
In practice it wasn’t always possible to withdraw from every kind of work on the Sabbath. What happened about feeding your animals, or if one of them was in danger? Because the Sabbath spirit celebrated the life-giving and liberating God, many rabbis allowed these essential activities. But some were stricter, as they were over other requirements of the Law. And on a number of occasions in the gospels, Jesus ran into their criticism.
It’s clear from the way he justified healing the woman in today’s gospel by appealing to permitted exceptions (v. 15) that Jesus endorsed mainstream Jewish practice. Perhaps that’s why most of the synagogue worshippers were delighted by what he did and said (v. 17). On no occasion in the gospels does Jesus question the rightness of keeping the Sabbath. Like his more generous contemporaries, he used what he identified as the Sabbath spirit to interpret the letter of the law. Actions that sustained life or brought liberation breathed the Sabbath spirit. Those that put life at risk or deprived someone of freedom for no good reason would only quench that spirit. It seems that most people in the synagogue with Jesus were celebrating that same Sabbath spirit.
How do we keep this Sabbath spirit alive as it becomes more difficult to adhere to the letter? Sarah’s vicar asked her if she’d consider standing as church warden. ‘I’ll think about it, but I can’t be in church every Sunday’, she said. ‘My parents live 100 miles away, and they’re getting older and more housebound. I need to visit them at least once a fortnight, and Sundays are the only day I can go.’ Sarah wasn’t alone in finding it impossible to keep to the letter of the Sabbath. In our 24/7 world, the Sabbath is a day when religious activities have to compete with many others—work alongside leisure and essential family care.
Some churches recognise this and offer alternative days and times for worshippers to come together. Many Roman Catholic parishes celebrate the first Mass of Sunday on Saturday evening. Inspired by the Jewish practice of starting the day at sunset, they begin the Sabbath at a time that allows as many as possible to participate. Some churches situated in areas of commerce or business find that their parishes are deserted at weekends because no-one lives there. So they celebrate their Sabbaths midweek. Newer church communities serving those who are drawn together by an activity or a place—an after-school club, a football team, a residential home—gather for worship and fellowship when and where people come together.
In each of these examples Sabbaths happen whenever and wherever people are available. They embody the spirit of the Sabbath rather than its letter. What is important is that in their different ways these communities are creating times and spaces that keep alive the holy rhythms of entering into God’s rest, and celebrating God’s life-giving and liberating love. And as these rhythms become established, they encourage their communities to look for other ways of embodying the Sabbath spirit. Here’s another example.
A church in a well-established part of its parish wanted to strengthen its links with parishioners who lived on a large housing estate two miles from the parish church. Inspired by a sermon on Isaiah 58 (from which this week’s Old Testament reading is taken), they began to explore the connections between honouring the Sabbath and serving the wider community, particularly those whose financial problems left them struggling to feed their families or crippled by debt (Is 58.10, 13). Over a six-month period church members met with people from the community association on the estate, and together they set up a partnership with a charity that sold affordable food, and another that provided advice and support for those with financial problems. By the end of the year the partnership was running a ‘one-stop shop’ on Tuesday mornings in the community hall on the estate. Church members continued to reflect on scriptures that extended holy times and spaces beyond Sundays and church buildings, like Hebrews 12.18–24 (part of this week’s New Testament reading). The seeds were sown for the one-stop shop to start providing refreshments, and to hold a 15 minute reflection time each week for those who wanted to join in. Here was a church that was embodying the Sabbath spirit both by maintaining its traditional rhythms of worship on Sundays in the parish church, and by establishing new rhythms of celebrating God’s life-giving and liberating love.
In today’s gospel Jesus brings together the prophet’s dual insistence on honouring the Sabbath and serving those for whom life brings particular challenges. Throughout his ministry this was the Sabbath spirit he embodied every day, both inside and outside the synagogue. Pray for grace that we might learn to do the same.