“…Then the country will indeed observe its Sabbath,
all the
while it lies deserted…”
(Leviticus 26::34)
Leviticus 26 tells of blessings and curses. If Israel lives according to God’s commandments, they will be blessed and fruitful and live in peace, “go to sleep with no one to frighten you.” (Lev 26:6). But if they don’t listen to God, if they turn from His path, reject God’s laws and “detest My customs…” they will be subjected to terror, sickness and infirmity. (26:14-16) And, they will become so desperate that they will even eat the flesh of their own children and be so filled with fear they will take flight at the “sound of a falling leaf” and flee even when no one is pursuing them (26:29-37). But in the midst of all this horror, flight and destruction, something that stood out to me was this strange statement about the land being given its Sabbath. That observation is strange. Why would God refer to the land observing its Sabbath?
To my ear, I hear an affirmation of God’s love and of His truthfulness. I hear the message that the Sabbath isn’t something we are to treat as optional. Regardless of how we feel about it or choose to react to it, there will be a Sabbath for the land. It isn’t just a recommendation or even a regulation; it is a fact. Because God says it, it is an actuality. God’s Word isn’t an opinion or a preference, it is truth. We need the Sabbath, because we were made that way. And our creator is simply reminding us that even if we don’t choose to honor the necessity of a Sabbath, it will come; whether we like it or not.
And, of course, science and nature have repeatedly shown us the importance of a “Sabbath,” of a period of rest. Land that is over worked and exhausted becomes barren and useless. People who are overworked and exhausted become anxious and fearful, unfocused and fruitless. Rest, renewal, these are necessities, non-negotiables.
Yes, we can reject it, treat it as something to be avoided, as an imposition to be ignored, overcome, defeated even. Which is the path our world seems to have chosen, especially the Western world. But look what this approach has brought us: anxiety, exhaustion and insatiable appetites. And 24/7 work weeks…
Not respecting the importance and the truth of who and what we are, of our need for rest, we have made ourselves into creatures bent on constant consumption, seeking always more and more, another cup of coffee (black and bitter like my heart), another handful of popcorn, one more gluten free chocolate chip cookie to help me stay awake while I watch one more episode of Agatha Raisin before I change over to some 30 Rock re-runs; always more money, more pleasure, more food, more treasure, and always needing more and more energy to feed our endless activity, to run our bigger and better cars and homes and offices and technologies. We hunger constantly for more, treating rest as something for the weak, the underachiever. And this hunger quite literally has us eating our children, not their flesh but their lives, their futures. We use up and pollute the water supplies, the farmland, even the air we breathe. We fill up every inch of land with concrete and buildings, bigger houses to store all the stuff we have, so much that it can’t even fit it all in our rooms or on our shelves. We rent storage units so we can hold onto the stuff we can’t even remember we own. All the while acquiring and acquiring more….
It seems to me that God isn’t saying to Israel: Be good, or I will slap your hand. Instead, I think God is telling them (and us) that this is how the world works: all of creation needs rest. Needs a Sabbath. If we live by His statutes and laws, we find peace and harmony—because we are living in harmony with our very being, with the world. That is reality.
And, if we don’t live in the real world, then we will live in a fantasy where even the sound of a falling leaf will send us running in terror. And where we find ourselves so anxious and desperate and afraid, that we might do anything to escape from it, and from what it does to us.
Living a fantasy means having no real security, no firm foundation. Nothing you can depend upon. It is like building a house on sand. Every new breeze, every whim that passes, shakes your very foundation. Every leaf that falls starts you running…
We were made vulnerable and insufficient. We need rest and we need each other.
Today, make time for rest and renewal. Take a nap. Play a game.
Drink a cup of tea and tell someone your dreams. Call up a friend or a family member and tell
them you love them. Or ask them about their week, and really listen. Rest in the sound of their voice, and the telling of their tale.
Rest, renew… and reconnect
And…Love without borders.
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