Keeping the Sabbath: Nurturing and Protecting the Inner Life
Reverend Caryl Hurtig Casbon
October 26, 2002
Good morning. It is great to be back with you on this last
weekend of October. As we enter this darker period of the seasonal cycle, and go on daylight savings, I want to take this
time to explore the whole notion of keeping the Sabbath. This month as a Unitarian fellowship, we focus on compassion, and
on this particular Sunday, let’s explore how keeping the Sabbath might relate to how we live in the world.
Thomas Merton, a Trappist monk stated in Conjectures of
a Guilty Bystander,
“The rush and pressure of a modern life are a form,
perhaps the most common form, of innate violence. To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns,
to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything is to succumb
to violence. More than that, it is cooperation with violence. The frenzy of the activist neutralizes his work for peace. It
destroys his inner capacity for peace. It destroys the fruitfulness of his own work because it kills the root of inner wisdom
which makes work fruitful.”
The line that is compelling to me is “It destroys
the fruitfulness of his own work because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful.”
It seems in this American culture, that speed and a very
full calendar are a sign of status. When...or if... we stop to talk to one another, we often punctuate our conversation with
how busy we are, and how pressured we feel. Somehow we don’t feel important unless we are rushed, as though all this
busyness is getting us where we need to go. I was watching the season’s opening of West Wing and thought about the pace
at which these people live, talk, and work, and how popular this show is. It is like they are all mainlining expresso! What
a standard for how to live, how to have power, how to survive at the top!
What observing the Sabbath offers us, is a chance to get
off this cycle, and renew ourselves from a deeper place from which effective work can flow.
The seasons offer us a wonderful template for healthy living.
We are not always in the full productivity of summer, or the abundance of spring. The year shows us that there is a time for
letting things die back, and for allowing dormancy.
Even each day offers us this cycle. We have the spring
of morning, when all is fresh and morning, when many of us are most productive. The autumn of afternoon arrives, when our
energy starts to wane and our thoughts begin to turn towards home. We have the winter of evening and night, when the withdrawal
of light invites rest and sleep, invites us to go dormant. These rhythms of nature, the seasons and the flow of each day,
suggest an important rhythm of work and rest. Even the lifecycle reminds us that youth is but a stage, and a brief one at
that. But in our modern world, with the universal refrain of “I am so busy,” as if exhaustion were a trophy, we
turn on the electric lights and keep going long after our need for rest and connection has invited us to slow down. In the
Bulletin this week there was an ad that said, “Bedtime can wait. Shop and dine under the stars.”
There is a story about the origins of the advent wreath
that I find powerful. In To Dance With God, the author, Gertrud Mueller Nelson notes how the pre-Christian people created
the advent wreath. As the days grew shorter and colder and the sun threatened to abandon the earth, these ancient people suffered
the same sort of anxiety we all feel a bit as winter approaches. The solution was to bring all ordinary action and daily routine
to a halt. They gave in to the nature of winter, came away from their fields and removed the wheels from their carts and wagons,
festooned them with greens and lights and brought them indoors. They brought the wheels indoors as a sign of a different time,
a time to stop and turn inward, to leave their fields alone. They sat around their fires with their families and told
Today, this Sunday Sabbath, we come away from the fields,
and take some time to share our thoughts about the meaning, and value of keeping the Sabbath.
When I say “Keeping the Sabbath,” I am not
referring only to setting aside a day for religious observance in a traditional sense. I am really using it as a metaphor
for allowing for a pause, a place of rest and renewal, where we may access our inner lives, enjoy our intimate relationships,
and savor the richness of being alive. In Genesis, after God created the world, he took a day off! Sabbath can happen in a
day, or may be built in to every day if we are intentional about it. I believe very strongly that the human spirit is naturally
generous and extremely creative once we are rested and are living a life that makes room for quiet and renewal. I also believe
that there is a connection between nurturing a quiet center within us, and nonviolence.
If you study the nonviolent movement, a choice away from
violence involves a creative solution. Creative solutions require a pause from the action, and chance to unhook from our first
reactive response in a situation, and find a different approach. Reactivity (and I know we all know what this feels like)
can be replaced with creativity. This can happen when our inner and outer conditions allow it. There is also a great deal
of research that supports the necessity for quiet and restful conditions as a prerequisite for creativity. As Barbara Powell
states, “Every kind of creative work demands solitude and being alone, constructively alone...it is a pre-requisite
for every phase of the creative process.”
I work a lot with teachers, who are some of the busiest,
most structured and pressured people around. They literally have bells ringing all day long telling them when to move on,
go to lunch, and so on. At a Courage to Teach retreat this fall, a program that focuses on the renewal for teachers, we asked
everyone to bring a symbol that reminds them of their inner lives, and share it at our first night together.
Several of the teachers said that they actually use the
bells in the school in the way that Thich Nhat Hanh suggests to his visitors at Plum Village, his monastery in France; they
repeat, “Listen, Listen, this wonderful sound calls me back to my true self.” each time a bell rings in the school.
I found this a powerful testimony,(I have always hated those bells!) that no matter what circumstance we find ourselves in,
we can find ways to call in a deeper connection with ourselves and the Divine...call in a Sabbath moment.
Another teacher, Barbara, a high school math teacher, has
a quote on her desk she reads each day, “What will I do today to nourish my three precious gifts: body, mind and spirit?”
She shares that when she keeps this in mind, she is a much better teacher for the kids. Barbara’s practice reminds me
of a comment Wayne Meuller makes about the spiritual life: “The heart of most spiritual practice is simply this: remember.
Remember who you are. Remember what you love. Remember what is sacred. Remember what is true. Remember that you will die,
and that this day is a gift.” This seems like a good way to think about remembering to keep the Sabbath. He has written
a beautiful book about keeping the Sabbath, which I highly recommend if you are intrigued with this topic, and from which
I have drawn some the material for this morning.
Kristen, an ESOL teacher, who has two young children waiting
for her at home after a busy day, says that her family is her symbol of returning to her inner life. From 7:30-9:00 p.m. they
have what they call “Sleep and Love Time.” All that is allowed during this time is books, quiet, talking to each
other, and... sleep and love. That is literally what they reserve this time in the evening for. Everyone at the retreat gave
a big sigh of envy when she shared this. How creative, how simple.
We have noted working with these teachers in retreat where
we focus on honoring the soul, that as they strengthen their connection to their inner quiet and wisdom, they are much more
likely to follow their own guidance and not get caught up in much of the madness that is going on in education right now around
testing, standards and so on. Keeping the Sabbath can be a very radical choice, but not always an easy one.
Ruth Hubbard, and good friend and colleague and I teach
a class on Creativity to people working on their master’s degrees, and we decided, for one of the assignments, to require
what we called Sanctuary time. We asked that for two weeks, at least once a day, to set aside 15-20 minutes to do nothing.
The instructions were that simple. Our intention was to invite people to explore what comes up in their creative lives when
they allow emptiness. What was interesting was that many of the students reported that this was one of the hardest assignments
they had ever been given. They didn’t complain about being asked to do more...read this, write that, create something....but
when asked to rest and do nothing, it was truly torture for them. So we shouldn’t underestimate the challenges of honoring
our need for rest in this culture.
I think one of the reasons it is so difficult to “keep
the Sabbath” is that the work is never done. Yet if we look at the lives of great teachers, they don’t wait for
the work to be finished to take time away. Jesus knew that every interaction takes energy, and while we think about Jesus
teaching, healing the sick and possessed, (that’s a term you don’t hear much anymore!) he just as often sends
people away or disappears without warning, dismissing those in need with neither excuse nor explanation, and retreat to a
place of rest....to the wilderness. He didn’t wait until everyone was taken care of, nor ask permission...when the moment
came, he took it. He would simply stop, retire to a quiet place and pray. He invited rest in the midst of his busy schedule.
From Luke, 5:15-16 “But so much the more the report went abroad concerning him; and great multitudes gathered to hear
and to be healed of their infirmities. But he withdrew into the wilderness and prayed.” In Mark it is reported, “That
evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered together
about the door...and in the morning, a great while before the day, he rose and went out to a lonely place, and there he prayed.”
I get a sort of claustrophobic feeling when I think about all that was demanded of Jesus. And this is how he dealt with it...he
worked hard, but then he withdrew and prayed.
The Psalmist speaks of this: He makes me lie down in green
pastures; he leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.”
It is intriguing to think about the rhythm of our days
and ways to fit in moments of rest. I have been trying this at traffic lights. When I get caught in traffic or at lights,
instead of cursing the loss of time it usually entails, I have learned to begin deep breathing, and changing my focus to my
breath. When the light changes, I am more refreshed. I have also found deep breathing to be a great help when I am stuck in
meetings that are frustrating or boring. I have also protected a practice for myself of arising early each morning, at least
an hour earlier than when the demands of the day require, and writing in my journal, reading spiritual books, and meditating
and praying. This is my private practice of Sabbath, and I have found that it deeply sustains my inner life. There is the
this time in the morning, I find that I can consider what is going on in my life and in the world and make the meaning connections,
answer why this happened and how it might connect with other aspects of my life, or the lives of the ones I love. I find direction
when I feel lost, and get in touch with feelings that are just out of focus, but clouding myvision. Without this time, I think
my life would feel like a blur of activity, without the deeper sense of connection to meaning and soul that make life so rich.
What a waste. Meister Eckhart said, “The spiritual life is not a process of addition, but rather a subtraction.”
How do you observe Sabbath? I think it is probably different for everyone. As the great poet and mystic, Rumi,
says, “There are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground.” Some people can’t stand to be physically
still, and find quietness in action, in exercise and being outdoors. I am sure each person here has their unique way of observing
Sabbath privately. I like the frame Rabbi Zalman Schachter Salonie uses for the Sabbath, “Today I am gong to pamper
my soul.” It is good for each of us to ask that question. What would it look like for me to pamper my soul? For me,
pampering my soul usually involves slowing down and spending time in nature. It means disengaging from work and taking my
time. Thoreau captures this necessity in the following:
“There were times when I could not afford to sacrifice the bloom of the present moment to any work, whether
of head or hands. Sometimes, in a summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, I sat in my sunny doorway from sunrise
till noon, rapt in reverie, amidst the pines and hickories and sumacs, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, while the birds
sang around. I grew in those seasons like corn in the night, and they were far better than any work of the hands would have
been. They were not time subtracted from my life, but so much over and above my usual allowance.”
Let’s look at Sabbath in some of the spiritual traditions to see what they might teach us.
“Remember the Sabbath” is a spiritual precept in most of the world’s traditions. In Judaism,
it is an ethical precept that includes prohibitions against killing, stealing and lying. How can forgetting the Sabbath be
morally and socially dangerous? Why is it so important? I contend that when we act from a place of deep rest, we are more
capable of cultivating what the Buddhists would call right understanding, right action, and right effort. If we do not rest
in this complex world, how can we access the voices of wisdom with in us that the world is in such great hunger for at this
time? The Sabbath is not merely an absence of work, but a presence of something that arises when we get quiet and listen for
what is deep and true.
Before the Hebrews, the Babylonians celebrated a lunar Sabbath, which was a day of rest. Buddhist use a lunar
Sabbath on the new, full and quarter moons, a day for monks and lay people to feast, meditate, reflect on the dharma, and
recite the fundamental precepts of spiritual practice. Christians celebrate the Sabbath on Sunday to commemorate the resurrection,
and Muslims celebrate a day of rest on Friday, taking time away from their labors to pray and renew. When Muslims are called
to prayer five times a day, all work ceases, and all the ancient words, spoken for centuries, arise in prayer. When the Jews
were exiled in 70 c.e., the Sabbath became their temple. There is a saying, “It is not Israel that kept the Sabbath,
but the Sabbath that kept Israel.” The Dalai Lama, now in exile from Tibet, consulted with Jewish scholars on how to
preserve a tradition and a sanctuary that would not be dependent on a temple of a geographic place.
Just as we began our morning with the lighting of candles, the Jewish Sabbath begins with the lighting of candles,
replacing the soulless electric light with the beauty and glow of candles that invites a turning inward. I think that Sabbath
should be a time of beauty, for beauty always feeds the soul. In addition to lighting candles, the Jewish Sabbath involves
gathering in worship and prayer, blessing the children, singing songs, keeping silence, walking, reading, making love, sharing
a meal. It is a time of rest, but it can also be a time of deeper engagement with the part of ourselves from which wisdom
can be arise. It is a time for engagement with the most satisfying things in life that the work world can so easily crowd
out.
At the fall retreat I mentioned earlier, we started the morning, as is our tradition, with a 1/2 hour of optional
meditation. There is something very sacred about sharing silence with others. Greg Smith, a co-facilitator shared an insight
that came to him during this meditation. He noted that in Pullman, they have been doing an experiment with some very complicated
equipment to attempt to listen to the sound of gravity. I think that is pretty amazing in itself! But what happened instead,
is that this equipment is so fine-tuned, that it picked up the sound of waves hitting the shoreline every 7 seconds. Greg
noticed that in meditation, his breath naturally came every 7 seconds. What an incredible insight that came to him during
this precious quiet time.
Pema Chodrin, a wonderful American Buddhist teacher, talks about using three noble principles: good in the beginning,
good in the middle, good at the end. Everything she does---starting her day, eating a meal, or walking into a meeting with
the intention to be open, flexible, and kind, are her way of holding these noble truths, of holding her own sense of Sabbath.
We are so lucky to live in a time when we have access to so much wisdom from these spiritual traditions. Of course, Sabbath
is when we naturally turn to gratitude for all that has been given to us.
It is no secret that we are living in extremely troubled times. I find that my dreams are even reflecting the
threat of war. For that reason, I want to end with a statement from Ette Hillesum, a young Dutch woman who was a victim of
the Nazi concentration camps:
“The things that have to be done must be done, and for the rest we must not allow ourselves to become
infested with thousand of petty fears and worries, so many motions of no confidence in God. Ultimately, we have just one moral
duty: to reclaim large areas of peace in ourselves, more and more peace, and reflect it towards others. And the more peace
there is in us, the more peace there will be in our troubled world.”
May we all find in our hearts, lives and families, the place where we not only keep the Sabbath, but where we
find the knowing, deep in our bones, that the Sabbath keeps us.
Om, peace, amen.
