Lectio
“Calming allows us to rest, and resting is a precondition for healing. When animals in the forest get wounded, they find a place to lie down, and they rest completely for many days. They don’t think about food or anything else. They just rest, and they get well.”
— Thich Nhat Hanh, The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching
Meditatio
In talking with a close friend recently, he expressed frustration at the fact that his life feels like he is a hamster stuck running on its wheel. The wheel — all of his obligations, commitments, and responsibilities, as well as everyone else’s needs, wants, and agendas — just keeps spinning and, lest he lose his footing and, in doing so, collapse and let everyone who counts on him down, he is compelled to keep running. In sitting with this thought in prayerful and compassionate reflection for my friend, two things occurred to me. Firstly, that I am just as susceptible to the hamster wheel and the burnout and exhaustion that comes with it as anyone, but that something has changed. Secondly, that the only way a hamster can get off its wheel is to stop running, no matter how difficult this may seem, and that this is Sabbath.
This is not to say that Sabbath calls us to abandon our responsibilities or walk away from those who depend on us. We were created to labor. We were created to create. But that is not all we were created for, and when that is all we do, we lose our connection with the source of our purpose and the wellspring of our rest. We must keep in mind that, for six days, God worked to bring creation into being before resting on the seventh day. So while work is important, so is rest — not merely rest as in sleep and idleness, but rest in Christ, who calls all who are weary and carry heavy burdens, for he promises to bring ease to our laboring and lightness to our burdens (Matthew 11:28-30). Like wounded animals, Christ calls us to lie down with him and to allow his love to heal us in our consenting stillness.
This lying down with Christ takes many forms — worship, Scripture, the company of a faith community. But at its deepest, it is an interior movement: the practice of contemplative prayer, of sitting in consenting stillness before the One who is the font of all healing, already present, already at rest within us. If we do not accept the gift of Sabbath and make time for Christ in our lives, we may find that we remain stuck on the hamster wheel, unable to get off, unable to rest. True rest, after all, comes from the Lord. True rest comes from our turning toward his indwelling Spirit, and allowing the Spirit the time it needs to heal our wounds so that we may get well.
Oratio
in my woundedness
I cry out to you
I crawl to you
but you whisper
in reply
rest, my child
lie down
be still
I am here
I am with you
take your time
be with me
stay with me
your wounds are deep
and many
reluctantly
I submit
in my brokenness
in faith
with hope
to Love
Contemplatio
When did you last allow yourself to truly rest — not in sleep or idleness, but in the presence of the One who is already there, already healing?
Related Scripture
“He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul.” — Psalm 23:2-3 (NRSVCE)
For Further Reading
If you enjoyed this post, you may also like Lectio: Take Your Time, which reflects on Carl McColman’s invitation to allow the spiritual life to unfold slowly and without hurry — a natural companion to the gift of Sabbath rest explored here.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity.
Wrestling With God.
Returning To Love.
Leave a Reply