Sermon: "The Myth of Abundance" (Exodus 16:1, 13-21)

In common usage, the word “myth” means something that isn’t true; a false belief or idea. However, among theologians and historians, the meaning is different.
To theologians and historians, the word “myth” refers to an idea or story that helps shape who we are as a people. The story may or may not be literally true, but if it helps form the identity and shape the core values of a people, than it is considered a myth.

Wikipedia has it right: Myths are significant because “they contribute to and express a culture's systems of thought and values.” Myths are not true because they actually happened; Myths are true because they embody “beliefs, concepts and ways of questioning to make sense of the world.”

So if you ever hear a Bible scholar talk about the creation myth in Genesis, they mean that the story of creation - whether or not it actually happened - is a story that helps shape what we believe and who we are as a people. It is a mythic story. The ideas it presents are mythic ideas. They help shape who we are.

A society may have myths that compete or conflict with one another. For example, in our society today, there is the myth of scarcity, and the myth of abundance.

The myth of scarcity and the myth of abundance both shape our society. Since they compete with one another, people who are more influenced by one of these myths are often at odds with people who are more influenced by the other.

We see the myth of abundance throughout scripture, starting at the very beginning. The creation myth in Genesis is a myth of abundance. In Genesis, God created a world of plenty, a world where there is an abundance of resources. In that world, there was no hunger, no want, no need.

Myths like the Creation story in Genesis were told orally, passed down from one generation to the next as elders told stories to children and grandchildren. Thus, the details of the story varied, but the main ideas remained the same.

Sandi Eisenberg Sasso is a rabbi and author who - among other things - received a doctorate degree from Christian Theological Seminary, the same seminary I attended. She was also the first rabbi to be ordained in Reconstructionist Judaism.

In one of her books, she talks about the creation myth, mentioning that “a long time ago, when the world was new, many different kinds of fruit grew on each and every tree. Orapples, plumelons, and banangerines ripened on a single branch. The smell of pinango, limeberry, and waterloupe sweetened the air… The earth was warm and soft, and fruit trees grew in abundance.”

That is the myth of abundance. Maybe those exact kinds of fruit never existed, but the message is true: God has created everything we need, and if we take care of it all - if we take care of the earth, if we take care of each other - we will always live in abundance.

In Genesis we read that God created humans to care for creation: for all the plants, all the animals, and the earth itself. That way the earth would continue to provide for God’s household, which is all of humanity.

According to the myth of abundance, everyone wins.

At some point, though, sin entered the world; sin, in the form of greed, envy, jealousy. People began to be afraid that someday, perhaps, there might not be enough to go around. To them, life on earth seemed to be a zero-sum game, in which there were winners and losers.

So they began to hoard resources. They took more than they needed. They built walls and fences around their property to protect it from others who might want it. They considered their own needs as more important than the needs of others. They took more than their share; they even took what belonged to others. They stole from others and even killed others to ensure that they were never left without the resources they needed.

This is the myth of scarcity.

Those who live by the myth of abundance recognize that everything we have comes from God. We may work to obtain what we need, but it’s all a gift from God.

Those who live by the myth of scarcity pride themselves on what they falsely believe to be the sole result of their own efforts. “I made this, I own this… it’s mine.”

The conflict between those who live by the myth of scarcity and those who live by the myth of abundance can be seen in scripture. In Egypt, Pharaoh began hoarding resources because he feared the results of a famine. It may be wise to prepare for a famine, but Pharaoh’s fear led him to eventually embark on a program of genocide against the Hebrews, who he believed had become “too numerous.”

Killing the Hebrews would leave more resources for Pharaoh.

God led the Hebrews out of Egypt. God led them out of the land where the myth of scarcity had led to slavery and genocide. In the wilderness, the Hebrews discovered the myth of abundance. The manna that fell in the wilderness provided for all their needs. It was a gift from God, and everyone had enough; but if anyone tried to hoard the manna, and take more than their share, it would rot away.

With the manna in the wilderness, the Hebrews learned that there is enough. Just enough. They learned to rely on God for their daily bread. They learned to not gather for themselves more than their daily bread. They learned to not take their neighbor’s daily bread.

In the wilderness, they learned to work together, so that every person had enough to be satisfied.

That’s part of the myth of abundance.

The Bible is full of examples contrasting the myth of abundance and the myth of scarcity.

In Mark’s gospel, we read of a banquet Herod threw on the occasion of his birthday. Herod hoarded riches for himself - riches he obtained by oppressively taxing the people. He believed in scarcity, that goodness and blessings were in scarce supply, and that he therefore needed to acquire as much of it as possible. On his birthday, he was eager to show off his riches to his guests.

To make a long story short, the story of Herod’s banquet ends with a death that brings sadness to everyone - even to Herod himself. The story is designed to show that the myth of scarcity is built on a lie.

Mark’s gospel contrasts this banquet with a meal Jesus hosted out in the wilderness. The setting - out in the wilderness - helps stir up the memory of that previous wilderness experience, when the Hebrews gathered their manna and everyone had enough.

This time, the crowds are there, and they are hungry, and there doesn’t seem to be any food. The people are poor, they’ve brought nothing with them, and they were a good distance from any town.

You know how this story ends… There was a boy who had a basket with a few fish and a few loaves of bread. If he or anyone else had noticed that this wasn’t enough for everyone, and if they had tried to hide it or hoard it for themselves, this story would have ended with some very hungry people.

But instead, the boy offered what he had up to Jesus. For whatever reason, he wasn’t worried about his limited supply. Jesus took the bread and gave thanks to God. The disciples distributed the food to the crowd, and everyone had enough. There was even food left over.

That’s the myth of abundance. There is always enough, if we’re willing to share. Everyone can win, everyone can share in the blessings, if we work together.

Sad to say, we have turned our backs on the myth of abundance. Those who make our laws live by the myth of scarcity. They shape economic policy and tax codes to their advantage, so they can pay less taxes and receive greater benefits, while the burden of providing for their wealth increasingly falls to the poor.

And it’s not just lawmakers or the wealthy. More and more you hear people say: “Why should I pay taxes for welfare if I’m working enough to support myself?  Why should I pay taxes for schools if I don’t have children? Why should I pay taxes for the sick to have medical care if I’m healthy?”

And you hear people say “me first” and “America first.” And you hear people talk about building walls and fences to keep people out.

When President Trump announced that America would be pulling out of the Paris Climate Accord, he explained why. He said that the Climate Accord “disadvantages the United States to the exclusive benefit of other countries….The rest of the world applauded when we signed the Paris Agreement. They went wild. They were so happy. For the simple reason that it put our country, the United States of America, which we all love, at a very very big economic disadvantage.”

Do you hear the myth of scarcity at work here? Instead of seeing protection of the environment as something that will benefit all people of all countries, in the president’s mind, if there are winners, then there have to be losers. If other countries are benefitting, then America must be losing.

But followers of the way of Jesus know that the myth of abundance is the myth that will eventually prevail. Jesus is life, and he came so that all may have life in abundance. When he was crucified, he came back to life with even greater strength and power. He gave his life away, just like he gave away the limited loaves of bread in the wilderness. He only had so much bread. He only had one life. But life, like the bread, multiplied, until there was more than enough to go around.

The myth of abundance is what shapes the identity of all who follow Christ. It leads us to be people who are generous, people who care, people who share, people who work together - knowing that we all become richer when we do.

The Story of Bōb (Exodus 16: 11-18)

You are familiar with the story of Job. It is the most famous fairytale of our faith.

OK, maybe “fairy tale” isn’t quite accurate, but it does come pretty close. Just listen to how the story starts: “Once upon a time…” Every good fairy tale begins this way. “Once upon a time, in the land of Uz…” It also sounds a lot like, “Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away…”

“Once upon a time in the land of Uz, there was a man whose name was Job.”

The name looks like it should be pronounced Jŏb, but this being long ago in a land far, far away, it’s actually pronounced Jōb, as you know.

One day the heavenly beings came before God. This included the one known as Satan, whose job it was to patrol the earth. In later Judaism and Christianity the character of Satan became a more demonic personification, but here, he’s just one of the heavenly beings.

In the story, the Lord says to Satan, “Look at Job. Why, no one on earth is as blameless and upright as he.”

Satan responds, “That’s because he’s so blessed. Let me take away everything he has, and see what happens to him.”

And God says, “Okay.”

So Satan takes away Job’s wealth. He takes away his children. He takes away his health. Job is left with nothing.

And yet, Job is not destroyed. Not completely.

There is another story. This one, I’m sure you are not familiar with. It is the story of Bōb, a name that looks like it should be pronounced Bŏb, but, well, it’s actually pronounced Bōb.

One day the heavenly beings came before the Lord, including the one known as Satan. In this story the Lord says to Satan, “Look at Bōb. Why, no one on earth is as blameless and upright as he.”

Satan responds, “That’s because his blessings have been limited. He only has enough: enough to live off of, enough to have a life that is satisfying. Let me give him so much more; let me give him everything he ever dreamed of, and see what happens to him.”

And God says, “Okay.”

So Satan adds to Bōb’s wealth. Bōb wins the Lottery! His crops all of a sudden start producing yields that are double and triple what they were before! His livestock – all his sheep and cattle and oxen – begin reproducing and multiplying at an astonishing rate, as do his own children and grandchildren. And his health and strength increase to such a point that he becomes like Samson, endowed with almost super-human abilities.

This all happens overnight, instantly. (If you are wondering about how Bōb could have so many children and grandchildren overnight, you are forgetting the fairy-tale nature of the story.)

At first, Bōb is overwhelmed by his good fortune. He offers a prayer of thanks to God, whom he credits with allowing his every wish to come true.

Then Bōb realizes that he has some work to do. He has to build bigger pens for all his livestock. He has to build bigger barns to store all his grain and other crops. He has to hire a manager – no, a team of managers – to manage all of his lottery winnings.

His family has grown so large; many relatives who he hardly knows keep showing up, but all they want is his money. Meanwhile, those who are closest to Bōb – his children and grandchildren, especially – simply want the joy of being in his presence; to play and laugh and dine with him; to share their love with him and receive his love in return.

Bōb very much wants this as well, but he no longer has time for such things. He’s too busy managing his assets.

As news of Bōb’s fortune spreads, more and more people want a share of the pie. Some of them are willing to do anything to get it, so Bōb has to hire a security team, and install alarm systems.

Bōb is now so busy, he no longer has any time at all for his family. He no longer has any time for God. He doesn’t even have any time for himself.

There is no peace in Bōb’s life any more, and no rest. All his blessings have become a terrible burden to him. His wealth, his possessions, his belongings; all these things are now holding him captive. His life is controlled by the maintenance and security of all he owns. He is no longer free.

Even his superhuman strength has become a liability, as it only separates him more from society by making him seem freakish.

And that is how Satan destroys Bōb. Not by taking everything away from him, but by giving him everything he ever dreamed of.

Is the story of Bōb true? Sure it is. Jesus knew the story. Luke records Jesus telling this story to a man who wanted Jesus to help him get his family inheritance.

This is how Jesus told the story of Bōb:

“The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns, and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grains and all my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’

“But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God” [Luke 12:16-21].

The apostle Paul also knew of the story of Bōb. Paul was reminded of the story of Bōb when he wrote to the Christians in Corinth, a group that was blessed with an abundance of wealth when compared to the much poorer Christians in Macedonia.

Paul wrote to the Christians in Corinth that what is good and what is the will of God is for everyone to have just the right amount; not too much, and not too little. Paul said: “It is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance and their need…. As it is written: ‘the one who had much did not have too much, and the one who had little did not have too little’” [2 Corinthians 8:13, 15].

In saying this, Paul quotes a line from the story of the Exodus, when God sent manna to appear in the wilderness. Everyone received as much manna as they needed. Everyone received their daily bread. No more, and no less. Everyone got just what they needed.

This, my dear friends, is what God wants for us. This is what it is like in God’s kingdom. And this is, in fact, what God has provided for us in the world God has created. Enough. For everyone.

But this is not how humanity has managed the use of God’s resources. This is not the model of stewardship we have exercised over the earth. In the world as we have made it, some have much more than they need, while others do not have even the basic necessities they need to survive.

It is a fragmented world in which we live. Some people in this world have just enough to be happy; but most are burdened by having either too little, or too much. They either suffer from not having, like Job; or they suffer from having too much, like Bōb.

We talk about the suffering of those who have too little. We talk about it in church, we take up collections for them.

We don’t talk about the suffering of those who have too much. This is because we believe the lie that is fed to us daily, the lie that says you can never have too much, the lie that says more is always better, the lie that says no matter how much you have, you’ll be happier if you have even more.

We believe this lie even though studies have shown that the wealthy have higher rates of anxiety and depression than those who have enough – those who can meet their basic needs and perhaps have a little extra for an occasional luxury, like a night out at a restaurant once in a while.

It’s a bell curve of sorts. Those who have nothing – absolutely nothing – find happiness very hard to come by. The level of happiness then rises as income rises and basic needs are met. It even rises a little once income rises beyond the level that is needed to meet basic needs. But then, as income keeps rising, the level of happiness wears off.

As income continues to rise, wealth becomes more and more of a burden, and happiness actually begins to decline.

In the United States, studies have surveyed people’s level of happiness in the second half of the 20th century. Those 50 years saw an explosion in wealth. Homes got bigger. The average number of cars per family doubled. New inventions began to fill our homes, things like automatic dishwashers, microwave ovens, TVs, computers, and cell phones, all of which promised to make life easier and more enjoyable.

Yet at the end of the century, Americans reported that they were no happier than they were in 1950. In fact, the level of happiness in America had actually declined some.

What happened? Our wealth became a burden. Just like Bōb, we discovered that wealth and possessions couldn’t give us more of what we really wanted; more of what really matters.

It would be bad enough if the burden of wealth only made the wealthy suffer, but actually, all are made to suffer. As those who had more cars got used to driving themselves everywhere, public transportation ridership went down, leading to cutbacks and elimination of services. Remember the red car? It’s no longer there for those who really need it.

Many poor people cannot afford cell phones, and yet – because so many people do have cell phones – pay phones and even highway call boxes are disappearing, no longer there for those who really need them.

Water is increasingly becoming an endangered resource, both here in southern California and in many regions throughout the world. As clean water becomes more scarce, prices go up. For some, this is not a problem, as they can afford it. So they keep using and wasting water. But this raises the price even more, which makes the burden on the poor even harder to bear.

This is clearly a justice issue. That’s why scripture talks about stewardship so much. That’s why God is so concerned with how you spend your money and manage your resources. That’s why the ancient laws spoke of debt forgiveness and limitations of slavery and jubilee.

It is also an issue of happiness and wholeness. Having too much can be just as much a burden as having too little. In the stories Jesus told, it is the rich man who walks away sad. It is the rich man who cannot find his way into the kingdom of God.

Mahatma Gandhi said that “earth provides enough to satisfy every man’s need, but not every man’s greed.”

The story of Job is real, but so is the story of Bōb. These stories are everyday realities in a fragmented world, a world where some have too much, and some have too little. But with God’s guidance, we can write a new story: a story of wholeness in a fragmented world.

Sabbath (Exodus 16: 4-5, 22-30)

A week ago Friday, my family went camping with some friends at Doheny State Beach in Dana Point. The plan was to leave as soon as the boys were out of school, and return home Saturday evening: approximately 24 hours away from home.


I was really looking forward to spending this time away. I had taken Ginger to work in the morning, returned home, did some housework and preparation for our trip, then returned at noon to pick Ginger up. We were going to go out to lunch, using some Olive Garden gift cards we had received at Christmas but hadn’t used yet. Also, I needed to stop by REI to pick up something for our trip. Both REI and Olive Garden are on Beach Blvd. in Huntington Beach, and Ginger’s school was almost on the way, and we had just the right amount of time to go to Huntington Beach and be back in time to get the boys.

Except that, when I picked Ginger up, she said she had to go home first. I said, “Fine, but home is back that way, and we’re going this way; we’ll go home after lunch.”

“No,” she said. “I want to go home first.”

I did some time calculations in my head. I didn’t think we had time to go back home, then go to REI and lunch before the boys got out of school. It seemed to me that we might have to change our lunch plans, and stop at REI after we got the boys, when we were on our way to Dana Point.

To make a long story short, I got upset. Unreasonably upset. I knew at the time that it was unreasonable, so I tried to keep quiet about it.

It wasn’t easy.

As it turned out, we did have enough time. Maybe not as much time to browse around at REI as I would have liked; but then, I could get myself into a lot of trouble browsing around at REI, so maybe it’s just as well.

And all the while, I pondered why I had become so upset. As I said, I knew at the time that my level of frustration was unreasonable, totally disproportionate to the circumstances. What in the world had happened to me?

It took me several days to discover the answer.

Meanwhile, we ended up having a wonderful time in Dana Point. We tent-camped; and, if you remember what the weather was like last weekend, there was the feel of excitement and adventure as we kept one eye on the dark clouds, hoping that it wouldn’t rain.

It didn’t.

We went whale watching. We went on hikes. We watched the Dana Point Festival of Whales parade. We laughed and told stories with our friends. The kids – all five of them – acted out a little play for the grown-ups. And unlike my time of rushing around before we left, this was a time to relax, to not worry about time.

For me, that is an essential component of a true Sabbath rest. A true Sabbath rest for me is one in which I do not need to rush. Rushing is stressful. Racing the clock makes my heart race, and not in a good way.

During the week, it seems like we’re always racing the clock, always worrying about time. Most days I get the family up at exactly 6:30. They need to be dressed and at the breakfast table by 7:00. By 7:20, they need to be brushing their teeth, putting shoes on, and grabbing their school supplies so they can be out the door by 7:30.

7:30 is the goal, but it’s usually a few frantic minutes later when I finally wave goodbye as Ginger takes the boys to school and herself to work. She’d take me, too, but by then I’m already worked up by the frantic rush to get everyone out the door that I need my fifteen minute walk to church to calm myself back down.

Once here, there are more deadlines: the sermon and worship preparation needs to be done by Sunday, that’s the most important. Staff meeting is on Monday at 9:30; the Religious Leaders Association meeting is Wednesday at noon. Is there Chi-Rho on Wednesday night? Am I prepared for Sunday’s Lenten study group? Am I ready for CYF on Sunday? Better get something prepared, it will be here before you know it.

Is the board report done? Did I read that chapter for next week’s elders’ meeting? Did I send in my registration for Founders’ Day or regional assembly or the clergy conference in time to get the early bird discount?

2:43 – school’s out. I gotta walk over to Hughes Middle School, get Ethan, walk back. Do some more work in my office while helping Ethan with his algebra.

Go home. Eat dinner. What’s on tonight’s schedule? Scouts? Board meeting? Chi-Rho? Elders? Open House? Interfaith Council meeting? Well, whatever it is, better hurry up and get ready; can’t be late.

Even going to bed is by the clock; can’t stay up too late, or I’ll be too tired in the morning. I don’t need an alarm to wake up in the morning, thank God for that! Although, now that we’re on Daylight Savings time, maybe I should set the alarm just in case….

Does any of that sound familiar? I know it does. I hear you talk about things like little league and dance recitals and girl scouts and Job’s daughters and volleyball and volunteering at the hospital and doctor’s appointments and teacher conferences and hosting out-of-state relatives and job interviews; oh, and don’t forget your newsletter deadline … and do I even bother to mention that it’s now just one month until tax day?

This, more than anything, is what I need a break from. God knows I need a break from it all, which is why God commands that I take a Sabbath rest.

God doesn’t suggest that I take a Sabbath rest. It’s a command. #4 of the ten commandments, to be exact. You have three commandments that speak of our relationship to God, and you have six commands that speak on our relationships with one another, and right in between them, at #4, is the command to observe the Sabbath.

However, this command, the command to observe the Sabbath, is the only command that we actually boast about breaking. No one goes around boasting, “I have stolen more things this week! Just one thing after another!” No one goes around bragging, “I murdered so many people last month!” And I’ve never heard anyone say, with pride in their voice: “I bore false witness against ten of my neighbors yesterday. Ten!”

But I do hear people talk about how busy they are. “I’ve been going non-stop for weeks now. I haven’t had a moments’ rest! It’s just one thing after another!” They say it as if they are expecting to be admired for their crazy, jam-packed lives, and perhaps some people do admire them for how busy they are, with not even a moments’ rest, but I know for a fact that God does not. Because God has commanded them to take one day a week, and make it a day of rest.

God knows you need a Sabbath….

For me, more than anything, the Sabbath is a day on which time really doesn’t matter. For me, a day of Sabbath rest is a day on which time moves differently. On the Sabbath, a moment can last forever, and yet, at the same time, hours can just fly by.

The 24 hours we spent in Dana Point were like that. We actually did quite a lot. But we didn’t rush to any of it. And sometimes, we just sat, and watched the clouds, and didn’t worry about what we were going to do next. We ate when we were hungry, not when the clock said we should eat. We moved when we felt like moving. We sat when we felt like sitting.

Please don’t ask me what time it is when I am enjoying my day of Sabbath rest. Is it 9:47? Is it quarter past ten? I don’t care, and I don’t want to know. Such quantifications of time are meaningless on the Sabbath. If I find myself worrying about what time it is, then it is not a Sabbath rest.

Do we have plans on the Sabbath? Do we have an appointment? Are we planning, for example, to see a movie that starts at a certain time? Are we meeting up with friends?

Fine. But please be ready early. Let’s not rush. Let’s not race the clock. If we end up having a little extra time on our hands, great. We can walk around, maybe grab a cup of tea. But if at any point we find ourselves racing the clock, well, there goes the Sabbath.

If it sounds wonderful, well, it is. It is wonder-ful; a day full of wonder. A day of delight. The Sabbath, as God intended it, is not supposed to be some dull, dreary experience where one sits around and does nothing. It is, instead, a day of delight for humankind. And not only for humankind, but also for animals, the earth – all of creation.

It is a day of pursuing one’s deepest joy, which isn’t necessarily the same thing as avoiding work. In fact, some people who just can’t let go of their worries, or who just can’t clear some time in their calendar for a Sabbath rest, may find it to be a great deal of work to take a Sabbath rest. Just like prayer or worship or any other spiritual practice, Sabbath requires, well, practice.

The Israelites couldn’t stop working on the Sabbath. They couldn’t just sit and enjoy the abundance of food they already had; they felt compelled to go out into the fields, and gather manna, even on the seventh day, the day that God told them to not work. But they didn’t gain anything from the work they did on that seventh day, did they?

If you work yourself too hard; become too stressed-out and filled with anxiety; if you don’t take a break from the craziness of modern life; well, you’re not going to gain anything by it. The benefits of working non-stop will not materialize, just like the manna did not materialize on the seventh day. Just stop. Catch your breath. Observe the Sabbath.

If your Sabbath rest involves spending time with friends or family, if it involves a feast (which, by the way, is a great way to celebrate the Sabbath), or if it requires any work at all, then you are going to have to prepare for the Sabbath. Do your shopping ahead of time. Do your cleaning ahead of time. Do as much of the cooking as possible ahead of time, so you don’t have to worry or be anxious on the Sabbath. Once the Sabbath starts, you don’t want to be troubled by such things, or it won’t really be a Sabbath.

Which, I now realize, is why I got so unreasonably upset last weekend. My Sabbath was set to start at 3:00 Friday afternoon, when we climbed into the car and headed toward Doheny State Beach. I wanted all my preparation to be done by then. I didn’t want to have to stop on the way and shop for something we needed. I so hate shopping. To leave that task for after my Sabbath had already started was unthinkable.

It wasn’t until I started writing my sermon Monday afternoon that I understood this. It wasn’t until Monday afternoon that I even realized that Sabbath was what I was looking forward to. Because the truth is, I don’t always make it a point to observe the Sabbath each week.

By the way, that’s not a boast. It’s a confession.

Clearly, one must be intentional about observing the Sabbath. It doesn’t just happen. Left to chance, something is going to fill that blank space on your calendar, and odds are, it won’t be something that you are going to take delight in.

And one more thing, if you haven’t already figured it out: Sabbath rest doesn’t necessarily have to be on Sunday. Some of us have way too many responsibilities on Sunday for that to be a day of rest. If that’s true for you, then perhaps you will want to observe the Sabbath on a Saturday, or a Friday, or whatever day works best for you. It can be from 3:00 Friday afternoon to 3:00 Saturday afternoon, or from sunset one day to sunset the next. That is, after all, how the ancient Jews defined a Sabbath.

And I’m not going to be legalistic insist that it be exactly 24 hours, and I’m not going to make a list of what you can and can’t do, although I do know that if you don’t set some guidelines for yourself, about what you will and won’t do on the Sabbath, then the cares and worries of the other six days will creep in and destroy your one holy day of the week.

Because that’s what Sabbath is: a holy day. Just as the sanctuary is holy space, Sabbath is holy time. A day to truly enjoy and take delight in the life God has given you. It is the day that makes you smile when you look back on it the first three days of the week, and the day you look forward to with joyful expectation the last three days of the week.

Trust me. No, better yet, trust God: You need a day like that.