Think of a typical day
in your life.
For most of us, a
typical day is quite full.
We have work or
school. We have chores. We have meals to fix, bills to pay. We have to-do lists that are never completed,
because for every item we check off, another item gets added.
And then, of course,
we have to keep up on our favorite TV shows, facebook posts, twitter feeds,
etc.
Basically, every day
is filled up until it’s full.
Now imagine a day
which you had none of that.
Let’s start pulling
things out of that imaginary day.
Let’s take out work
and school.
Let’s take out chores
and to-do lists.
Let’s take out any and
all appointments: doctor appointments, car maintenance appointments, hair
appointments…
Let’s take out all
electronic media: television, internet, texting and chatting…
Now, what do you have
left?
Probably, what you
have is a day that scares you to death. That
is, if you can even imagine it. For
some, imagining a day like that is impossible.
But what would you do
if you had such a day?
You would celebrate
the Sabbath, that’s what you’d do.
One of the reasons I
like to hike is that, out on the trail, you’re away from all of that.
One of my favorite,
close-by places to spend a few hours is the nature center at El Dorado Park.
Usually I go there by
myself. Usually I ride my bike to get
there. It takes a while, but that’s the
point. My only regret is leaving, and
then having to wait so long before I have enough time to return.
A few times, I have
taken small groups of children with me.
And when I do,
something fascinating always happens.
It starts when I say,
“let’s go to the nature center.”
And kids, when they
hear this… it’s like I’m suggesting we pull their fingernails out with a pair
of pliers, one by one. The nature
center? Are you serious?
They can’t imagine spending even one hour walking a
nature trail. Who in their right mind
would leave their computer games, their TVs, their electronics, to spend time
where there is nothing at all interesting?
But then they get
there, and they start walking – reluctantly at first – until they find a
stick. Especially the boys. Boys have to have a stick. And they pick up that stick and carry it
along with them. They pause to poke the
stick into some mud, and watch the mud squish.
It’s gooey and disgusting and very cool.
When they watch the
mud squish, they see bubbles, and tadpoles, which are fascinating to them. And they discover a fallen tree, and marvel
at its upended roots, which are both amazing and a little creepy looking. And they climb up onto that fallen tree and
see if they can walk along it without falling off…
And pretty soon it’s
time to go, and they say, “What! We just got here!” But no, it’s been several hours. They’ve been having so much fun doing
“nothing” that the time has slipped away.
A wise philosopher
once said:
“What I like doing
most of all is just doing nothing. How
do you do just nothing? Well, when
grown-ups ask, ‘what are you going to do?’ and you say ‘nothing,’ and then you
go do it.” “Never underestimate the value of doing nothing, of just going
along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.” That’s from Winnie the Pooh.
And when you do
nothing, you notice things that you can’t possibly notice when you have no time
to do nothing.
Meditation is one way
to clear your mind of thoughts, distractions, and “busy-ness.” An old Zen saying recommends that you sit in
meditation for twenty minutes every day.
Unless you’re too busy; then you should sit for an hour.
To give any advice on
achieving mental or emotional wholeness, the best thing I could say is to spend
some time doing nothing. You might be
surprised at what happens.
Two years ago, hiking
with my sister and a couple of friends in the Sierras, we stopped for a break,
and my sister looked up at the sky. We
were actually on a 3-day hike in a remote wilderness, and what else do you do
when you spend 3 days in the wilderness, away from, well, everything? Nothing… except things like look at the sky.
How often do you look at the sky normally?… She looked at the sky, and she saw
something, a tiny white point in the deep blue midday sky.
She pointed to it, and
at first I didn’t see it, and wondered if she was perhaps making it up to play
a joke. But then I saw it. Most of the others did, too.
We thought at first
that maybe it was an airplane, but it wasn’t moving. Not moving at all. And it was such a small, faint speck of
white, that it would have to be so very high; in fact, probably too high to be
an airplane. What could it be?
It looked like a
star. But you can’t see stars in the
daytime, can you?
We stared at it for a
while, but it wasn’t doing anything, so eventually we continued with our hike.
I have since learned
that the planet Venus can, in fact, be seen with the naked eye in daylight, if
the conditions are right and you know just where to look, or just happen by
chance to look in the exact right spot.
I’m sure now that’s what it was.
It’s amazing, the things that you notice, when you do nothing.
But it’s not just
far-off planets that you notice. With a
time of rest, when your mind is able to find some stillness,.. you notice other
thing, too. Deep things. Personal things.
And noticing these
things is essential to finding emotional and mental wholeness in one’s life.
The scripture today
takes place in that in-between time, after Jesus’s crucifixion, but before his
resurrection.
I don’t know about
you, but this seems to be a part of the story that I often overlook. In fact, I’m not sure I even noticed before
just what is going on here. I tend to
jump right from crucifixion to resurrection, the exciting, busy parts of the
Easter story.
But in between that
first day and that third day, there is the second day, which just happened to
be a Sabbath day. A day of rest. A day of doing nothing.
No wonder I didn’t
really notice this part of the story before.
It’s about … nothing.
It came right after
Jesus’s body was taken down from the cross and buried in a tomb.
They buried his body,
and then it was the Sabbath. The day of
rest.
Now I don’t know what
you believe about the resurrection. Some
believe that this is a resurrection of Jesus’s physical body, and there is some
indication of that in some of the gospels.
Others believe that it was a resurrection of Jesus’s spirit, and the
writings of Paul seem to support that idea.
But one thing is
clear: the recognition of Jesus’s
resurrection did not happen until after the day of Sabbath. The recognition that Jesus is still alive did
not come until after the day of rest, after the day of doing nothing, the day
of dreaming and pondering and discerning.
If everybody in those
days had a smartphone, I imagine they’d all be busy sharing and forwarding and
reposting their reactions and the reactions of others to the events of that Friday,
without ever taking the time to pause, and ponder, and they’d never arrive at
the proper mental state that would allow them to witness the resurrection.
It makes me think that
the Sabbath was necessary for the
followers of Jesus to understand that his death was not the end. On Friday, they were devastated. On Sunday, they were filled with hope and
joy. If there had been no Sabbath, no
downtime, I wonder if they would have even been able to recognize the risen
Christ. If they were so busy with to-do
lists and chores and other worries and concerns, would their minds have ever
achieved the clarity needed to see Christ alive?
I don’t know. I don’t know.
But I do know that
times of rest are essential for clear thinking.
Downtime, time spent emptying the mind of competing thoughts and
distractions, are essential for mental and emotional health and wholeness.
One day a week is the
Sabbath command. But there are also many
opportunities for a mini-Sabbath, a mental rest of just a few minutes even,
throughout every day.
Grace before eating is
one opportunity. I don’t know if you say
a prayer at mealtime, but it can help you find a moment of clarity and
rest.
I would recommend that
you not worry about the words of your prayer.
In fact, sometimes a prayer without words is the best prayer of
all. Just take a moment, in silence, and
allow yourself to feel gratitude for the meal you are about to eat. That is certainly enough.
And then, if you want
to extend your moment of meditation, your little mini-Sabbath, pay close
attention to the food as you eat it.
Especially that first bite. Focus
all your attention. Notice the texture,
the smell, the taste.
If you’re like me,
your normal way of eating is to probably keep your mind occupied with other
things, other distractions, while you eat, and you don’t even notice the taste
of the food you are eating. You finish
your meal, and you wonder, “is that it?
I don’t even remember eating it, or what it tasted like.”
Find other ways to
give your mind a break. If you spend most of your day sitting, take a midday
walk. Notice the different types of
plants you see, and the different sounds you hear. Give thanks for as many different colors that
you see.
I just read a chapter
in a book I’m reading which described some advice given to married couples who
were frustrated. The advice was to get a
journal, and write down everything positive that your spouse does. It’s easy to get frustrated, to build up
resentment, to always notice the negative and forget or not even notice the
many positive things our spouse does.
But if you focus on writing them down, you will realize that your spouse
is doing all he or she can. And you yourself
will break free of resentment and negativity, which is a wonderful thing for
emotional wholeness.
But you have to start
by taking the time to notice. Notice the
good things in life. Know when you need
a break, so that you can notice these
things. Know when your face muscles are
sore from always showing expressions of anxiety or stress, and need an
opportunity to smile or just relax. Know
when you need a break from life, when you need to step back from everything,
turn off the electronics, and just be.
Just be.
Be still.
And know.
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