And Finally. . . A Reimagined Sabbath

Growing up in a family that observes a Saturday Sabbath, I was always taught that the Sabbath is a joyful day for everyone. We worshipped together as a family—literally, because I was not allowed to sit anywhere in the church but next to my parents. It was also the day on which I wore my best clothes and shoes. And the day on which we had lunch together as a family—in contrast to weekdays, when we had our lunch in different places due to our daily activities—school, office, etc. The menu for this day was also special, with multiple dish options beyond what I usually had on school days.

One day, I noticed that one of my friends went to church with only his mother, rarely his father. I finally plucked up the courage to ask him why his father rarely came to church. He said, ‘My father has to work every day.’ At that moment, I learned that his father was a day labourer whose pay was based on his daily work. At that moment, I realized how the Sabbath entails a privilege—a privilege not everyone can afford.

It is tempting to say that ‘his father is faithless’ or even that ‘his father is directed by greed’—which is what people tend to say when they see someone working on the Sabbath. But, a comment by a Dalit scholar, reflecting on the Dalit of the Sabbath, opened my eyes: ‘A day of rest is fine for those who do not have to worry about their next meal,’ he wrote, ‘but a Dalit who has to earn his bread every day may wonder if working on the Sabbath is [really] as major a transgression as idolatry or blasphemy.’ ¹

Attending to the experience of the vulnerable, like the daily laborers, prompted me to rethink the Sabbath concept beyond simply securing one day a week without work. Labor unions have even gone further than our churches. As the saying goes, ‘The Bible gives you one day of rest, but the union gives you two.’ Securing the universal human right to rest is more than just a temporal issue; it is also a material issue. The Sabbath rest depends on having sufficient basic material resources to be able to afford such rest. Instead of simply securing one day a week without work, we need to ensure that everyone in our society has sufficient daily necessities for the whole week—no one excluded.

As I write this reflection on the Lenten season, the season of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, I want to invite us to rethink these three pillars of the Lenten season. Instead of praying for the less fortunate, perhaps we need to ensure that we no longer need to pray for the less fortunate—by ensuring that no one is less fortunate than the other. Instead of fasting to express my solidarity with those who are hungry, perhaps we need to ensure that everyone has sufficient daily sustenance on their table. Instead of almsgiving to support the vulnerable, perhaps we need to ensure that we create economies that are just, equitable, and sustainable to benefit everyone—no exceptions.

Ludwig Beethoven J. Noya Christ College, Valparaiso University, IN, USA