Sabbath: Ignoring the Machinery of the World

At our house, the kitchen is where we hang out. It's our real "living room." But sharing that space is not always conducive to sweeter communion and intimacy of heart. Alas.

If Karin and I are sitting in the kitchen talking and my eyes wander to the newspaper on the table, she gets annoyed. Being in the same space is not enough.

If we are finishing up supper and Karin answers the phone and gets involved in a conversation, I wander off muttering unhappy words to myself.

Shared space is no guarantee of growing richness in relationships. Intimacy that grows deeper and sweeter requires shared time.

Marriage
Parent-child relationships
Friendships
Romance
God-human relationships

None of these grow unless cultivated with shared time. There are no exceptions.

Which brings us to the Sabbath. A divine law directing us to turn our attention from the machinery of life to its soul.

The commandment orders us to quit tinkering so we can give attention to God through music, prayer, Bible reading, meditation, nature and service. The commandment prohibits ordinary work to free us for nurturing family love through family worship and shared meals, through sex, conversation, walks, games, play and service. We cultivate friendships through shared meals, worship, conversation, walks, play, service.

This sweet communion which sweetens and deepens our connections with others is the fruit of taboos and prohibitions. I cannot give my attention to Karin until I’ve put the paper away (or closed the web page). Her presence means nothing to me until she hangs up the phone. Sabbath—shared time that feeds intimacy—can only be experienced by embracing strong negations:

Turn off the TV.
Get off the internet.
Don't mention the projects you really wish your husband would finish.
Ignore the unwashed car, the unpainted fence, the unpaid bills.
Ignore the chaos of economics and politics.
Don't fret over state of the environment or human rights.

For 24 hours deliberately neglect the machinery of the world and give full attention to its soul—relationships with God, family and friends. This is what it means to keep Sabbath holy.

When Sabbath is over, there will be time enough to give attention to the Rube Goldberg apparatus of the world.

Central to the mission of the Seventh-day Adventist Church is fostering a community where Sabbath—time protected from the incessant demands of the machinery of life and open to the soul of the world—is actually lived.

Sabbath is where we most readily experience the equation holy = happy.