One of the most common questions I'm asked when people learn that we keep sabbath is, "Oh, so what can't you do on sabbath?" I typically take a step back before I answer, because I never want to present sabbath as a day of exclusion. Since I became a fundie gone wild, aka a Seventh-day Adventist Christian, sabbath has become to me a day of inclusion, a turning toward rather than a turning away from, a day of proactivity rather than negativity. Growing up Catholic, my experience of weekly worship was, basically, Park, Pray, Peace Out. I know this is not every Catholic's experience with the mass, but I felt like worship was like a fast food drive-thru. Got my homily, Apostle's Creed, and a communion wafer and . . . I'm good to go. I struggled with this. We kept the other commandments. But as for keeping the Lord's day holy, there seemed to be a huge disconnect between what Jesus' worship and healing ministry was on this day and what my experience was as a Catholic. Which was minutes after "Go in peace to love and serve the Lord," we would be buying bologna at Stop n' Shop.
Lately, however, my sabbath keeping has not been exemplary. It has been hard to keep sabbath. I'm not out buying bologna, or any other kind of lunch meats for that matter, but since I have been unable to make it to church on sabbath because of either my beached pregnant whale state or because I have had a Baby Beluga on my hands, I feel very convicted. I've begun to think of late what things I can't do on sabbath, when I should be fixing my focus on the Lord, His word. I should be resting, yes, but I should also be reading, calling family and friends I've neglected, memorizing Scripture. Lovey Loverpants is giving sermon this sabbath, though, so I think I'll try to go to church. It will be my first time having to make sure someone other than myself is dressed and ready on Saturday morning. Fortunately, only one of us will need her hair brushed.
*** On the seventh day, even the Lord rested. What a great idea.