Today we encounter Jesus and his disciples, on a warm summer’s day, walking through a field and nibbling on the heads of grain. Before we jump into the rest of the story, I wonder if you can see this moment in your mind’s eye. Can you feel the warmth of the late day sun, the blades of grass tickling the undersides of your arms? Can you taste the heads of wheat, smell the air coming off the field? Hear the voice of Jesus and the other disciples as they talk?
This is an unhurried moment of discipleship, time where the emphasis is not on getting somewhere, doing something, but simply being together. Hold on to that feeling, to that moment, the sense of relaxed presence, it will carry you through what comes next.
Immediately following Jesus’ disciples walk through the field, we have an encounter, an argument really, between Jesus and some pharisees about the sabbath. I want to say to you this morning, whenever you hear an argument about the sabbath, you need to do some cultural translation. Too often stories like this have been read against the Jewish people. But this is an INTRAmural conflict. Remember, his disciples called Jesus “rabbi.” And the teaching Jesus does here about the sabbath is a VERY rabbinic teaching. Saying, “The sabbath was created for humans; humans weren’t created for the sabbath” Jesus parses the first chapter of Genesis. He knows his Torah. I want to spend some time today talking about sabbath, but before we get there, we need to pause. Because discussions about the sabbath in this first century text, they need some cultural translation. We don’t, in Christianity today, argue much about the sabbath. So when you hear the word “sabbath” in the Gospels, I need you to do some translation.
You might imagine conflicts more internal to your own faith. You could hear a Presbyterian minister and a Catholic priest discussing the meaning of the Eucharist. Or you could imagine two Christians discussing very different interpretations of “biblical living.” If there is a constant among people of faith, it is that we often debate the meaning of our faith. We disagree.
First centuries arguments about the sabbath are arguments about the nature of religion. What is faith for? What is religious law for? Why do we have a spiritual practice?
Jesus’ teaching, “the sabbath was created for humans; humans weren’t created for the sabbath” goes to the heart of Jesus’ perspective on faith. What he teaches in the first part of the story, he practices in the second. Jesus heals a man with a withered hand, on the sabbath and argues that our faith should always be life-giving. Faith should always be life-giving.
How we hold our faith matters. How we practice, what we expect of one another matters. Today is the first Sunday in June, the first Sunday in Pride month. I learn more about the nature of faith every day from my LGBTQ+ siblings. Now, I was incredibly lucky to have grown up in the Episcopal Church at a time when the people in my faith community were supportive when I came out. My husband Ellis too, grew up in a progressive Episcopal Church. When we were dating, we figured out we both worried about coming out at church, not because we thought we’d face judgement or rejection, but because we didn’t want to deal with all the hugs and attention. We were both incredibly lucky, but the majority of the LGTBQ+ people of faith I know haven’t been so lucky.
Which is why I find worshipping each week with so many fellow LGBTQ+ people, and allies, praying, and studying scripture, and serving the world in God’s name together so inspiring. I understand why so many of my siblings in the LGBTQ+ community have no interest in church. For too many, faith has not been life-giving. The church has been anything but accepting , anything but loving.
And yet, so many of you, even though your church of origin was actively against you, found a reason to stick by your faith. You realized that a man-made institution did not have the final word for God. You found a church, like this one, where you could be your full self, and continue to practice your faith. You said, “people were not made for religion, but faith was made for people.” You found a community where you could live out your calling, to be Christian and to be yourself, and I am proud to share in this community with you. You are living witnesses to the truth, that though religious institutions fail, though pastors and fellow Christians fail, God’s love never fails.
It’s funny to say it, given our reading today, but sabbath is one of the teachings of the Bible I think Christians could take a little more seriously. If we paid more attention to the commandment to rest on the seventh day, we might better understand that our faith is not meant to be about control. Our faith is not meant to be about enforcing our morality on our neighbors. Our faith is about something else, something deeper. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, in his book on Sabbath, said that the “higher goal of spiritual living is…to face sacred moments.” To face sacred moments.
I do have a little bit of holy envy of my rabbi colleagues. One of my closest colleagues in St. Louis was one of the first Orthodox Jewish women to be trained as a rabbi. She uses the title “Maharat” because she still has not been able to be ordained: Maharat Rori Picker Neiss. And I had the privilege of spending sabbath with her family a handful of times.
Rori’s family takes shabbat very seriously. As the sun goes down, all the families phones are put away. A couple of times when we were working together, I texted Rori an important question on a Friday evening. I got a response after sundown on Saturday. When we went over for shabbat, we too left our phones off in the car. And, honestly, I was amazed by the results of this small change. We were less distracted.
For one day each week, from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday, Rori’s family is simply present to one another. The sabbath isn’t about fasting. Shabbat dinner is the best of the week. Sabbath is about letting go of all of the distractions, all of what separates us from one another and from God. Sabbath is a reminder that we are not fully in control, and that is good news.
As I said, I have some holy envy of my Jewish friends’ practice. I can’t really imagine trying to convince Christians to appropriate the practices of our Jewish neighbors. But, if we took the Biblical principle of sabbath seriously, even if not literally, sabbath might help us have a different relationship with time.
The Japanese theologian Kosuke Koyama noticed that God has a speed. He wrote about the “Three Mile an Hour God.” Koyama points out that the average speed at which a human being walks is three miles an hour. God became incarnate at a time when people walked. Jesus walked everywhere and Jesus walked slowly. God has a speed, and often in this 21st century life, we are moving so fast that we leave God behind.
Ched Myers has argued there is an economic dimension to sabbath as well. Pausing from being productive, focusing a day on how we might redistribute our wealth. Spending time together, in our capitalist society is as radical a practice today as it was for Jewish people to refuse to work for their Roman occupiers for one day a week. Sabbath is a reminder of our freedom from the systems which use us for our labor. Refraining from work reminds us that our life belongs to more than work.
What if we took seriously the invitation to slow down? What if we set aside an evening each week, to simply be with the people we love? What if we set aside a period of a few hours each day where we laid down the petty grudges and frustrations, we turned off the news, and focused instead on being present to our friends, our neighbors, to the family members and chosen family who walk this way with us? What if we took a little time, each day, or every few days, to slow our breathing, to embrace stillness, to wait for God?
Such sabbath-inspired practices might help us to hold on to the deeper meaning of our faith. Such practices might help us notice, we were not made to serve a cruel and unloving faith. One of the scandals of the Gospel is that God comes to serve us. God comes to love us. God doesn’t come to manipulate or control. Jesus witnessed to a self-offering way, a way of serving others, a way of letting go. God came to walk with us.
Some summer evening, when you’re walking in the angled light and you notice the seeds on a head of grass, you might pluck them. After the 7:30 service Kip Purcell said, “take time to stop and smell the wheat.” Feel the grass against your skin. Let go of the arguments all around. Let the world slow down. Remember Jesus walked slowly. Faith is about learning to face the sacred moments. The sabbath was made for us, faith was made for us, to help us to slow down and let God catch up.
Mike Angell 