“Sabbath.” The word sounds like something from another century. To the extent that we hear the word at all any more, it’s used as an old-fashioned way of referring to Sunday—the “Sabbath Day.” Unless, of course, we have Jewish friends or live in close proximity to Jewish communities—in which case we may overhear an occasional “Shabbat Shalom” (“Sabbath peace”) greeting on the way to the parking lot after work on a Friday afternoon. Or, if you’re like me, you may have found yourself puzzling over the “Sabbath” setting on your new stove. In all of these instances, Sabbath may strike us as something strange or old-fashioned—something that doesn’t have much to do with us as contemporary Christians.
Worse, many people have negative associations with Sabbath. For them, it conjures up unhappy memories of rigid rules and endless hours stuck inside as a child—forbidden to play or make any noise. One woman told of how she first met her neighbor. On the woman’s first Sunday in her new house, she had put some clothes in the dryer. The next thing she knew there was a knock on the door. Her neighbor had come across the street to say that she’d noticed the steam coming out of the dryer vent and wondered whether the newcomer had forgotten that it was the Sabbath Day.
Hopefully, stories like these are becoming a thing of the past. But just because Sabbath sounds like something from another century doesn’t mean it is a concept for another century. Rather, I believe, we should recover God’s invitation to Sabbath for our own time.