I am not an expert on things religious, but I do know something about the Sabbath.
It is a day of rest for many who adhere to Judeo-Christian religions.
Frankly, I never contemplated writing about it, because as I see it, religion is deeply private. Having one, not having one, is your choice and you don’t have to announce or affirm what your beliefs are, at least if you are an American or a citizen of most modern Western societies.
Recently, an article ran in The New York Times, titled What if the Real Act of Holiness Is Rest? Speaking of observing the Sabbath, writer Margaret Renkl recalls her childhood and how her grandma firmly observed a day off from worldly matters.
Her essay reminds me that resting, which can certainly include napping and sleeping, is not only a physical act, which is frequently how I treat it in this book.
It has the potential to be deeply spiritual, in keeping with holy dictates.
I may be going out on a limb by suggesting that setting aside the Sabbath for resting is also one of the most practical rules established by religion. It is a built-in prophylaxis against many of the woes and temptations that constant busyness can usher in to our lives.
Look no farther than to our constant commentaries on social media using today’s technical devices. These are envy-based vortexes, inducing us into vices, summoning our nonstop attention and commitment.
They also focus us on materialism, and I would argue more specifically on consumerism. By aggrandizing the buy-now impulse, they subtly encourage the accumulation of debt and eschew the postponement of gratification.
People who get rich aren’t constant spenders in the same way that physical fitness pursuers cannot be constant eaters.
There is a role for fasting as part of a smart diet and fitness routine. I say this not only for the purpose of temporarily reducing calories. The more important function of fasting is to restore to us a feeling of self-control.
Fasting sends to our minds and bodies the empowering message that we are in control of our intake. If and when we want to adjust it, we have the will to do so.
The Sabbath introduces a regular work-fast. It creates a needed separation between the ordinary, the mundane, and the covetous nature many of us can succumb to and the elevated, the detached, the transcendental.
Ironically, by turning to matters other than the commercial we’re more apt to return from our restoration with renewed commercial capabilities and insights.
Some of the highest earning people in the world observe the Sabbath.
Much is being made today of the concept of emotional intelligence which translates roughly into having and using people skills.
Is it possible that there is such a thing as spiritual intelligence, as well?
I would characterize this as the self-wisdom to know when you need to shun the profane and embrace the profound, to seek to elevate your thoughts, feelings and appetites to a plane that delivers something different, something deeper.
Being materially rich is nice, but being spiritually rich can be even better.
Lest we believe this pursuit is exclusively or especially made by Westerners, there is ample literature suggesting that Eastern sages have been in touch with Sabbath-like precepts for ages.
The Tao Te Ching, an ancient book of wisdom attributed to Lao Tsu asks:
“Can you wait until your mud settles?”
This pithy question has the power to snap us out of our monkey-minds. In Zen Buddhism, “not-doing” is considered a highly evolved practice and spiritual achievement. I quoted California’s ex-Governor Jerry Brown for famously stating, “Sometimes, not-doing is the highest form of doing.” Brown was a former seminary student and more than a casual acolyte of these notions.
“Do no harm” is the literal translation of the Oath of Hippocrates, which every physician unofficially subscribes to.
I would say we’re not very successful at refraining, and our impulse-control in this regard grows worse, prompted by technologies, especially instant communications.
Pausing the noise, shutting off the constant cacophony of voices seeking to catch our attention, can be a conversational fast. It is needed to clear our minds of blockages and pollutants.
Devoting an entire day to a Sabbath could seem to some, excessive. Given our greed for speed, couldn’t we cut that back to a mini-Sabbath, maybe a half-hour or so?
Can’t we get the same benefit from what is becoming widely popularized—mindfulness training?
I don’t think so. To borrow from Baba Ram Dass’s book title, mindfulness helps to “Be Here Now.” Being fully at work when you’re at work is a good thing. And being fully away from work is also to be desired. It is just possible the ancients knew this when they handed down the concept of a Sabbath, and its year-long version—the sabbatical.
These days, being fully away is the trick, not being fully here. We’re here 24/7 and it is precisely this surfeit of availability that keeps us from achieving wealth—both monetary and spiritual. If we were to adjust Ram Dass’ title to suit my purpose, and to reflect journalist Renkl’s thesis, it would read: “Be Rested Now!”