A sermon based on Exodus 16 preached at St. Paul's UCC, Somerset, PA on 1/19/14.
It’s early on the Sabbath. Everyone else is still sleeping. The manna gathered the day before is sitting in the jars in the corner, but it looks meager in the morning darkness. It wouldn’t hurt to go and get just a little bit more, would it? No one would see this early in the morning. But stepping outside the tent and looking around, unlike the six days before, the ground is empty. No manna. No way to get ahead. No way to have any more than what you already have. The day is a Sabbath to the LORD and all is quiet and empty. It’s easy to scoff at the Israelites. You already had enough! An omer, that’s about three pounds of manna per person. Three pounds! That certainly seems to be enough. Why go get more? Why go out on the Sabbath? But these are the well-meaning, hard-working Israelites. These are people who were trained to work under the hot Egyptian sun. But every time the Israelites try to do what they’ve always done, God stops them. They’ve been through a lot, the hardships in Egypt and now in the desert, so who could really blame them for trying to stock up with some extra manna? It’s like they’re trying to line their basements with tin cans of soup and vegetables, but every time they get a can down there, God takes it away. Because you try to gather more than your share of manna? “When they measured it by the omer, the one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little. Everyone had gathered just as much as they needed.” Try to gather manna on the Sabbath? “Some of the people went out on the seventh day to gather it, but they found none.” The well-meaning, hard-working Israelites keep trying to tell God, “We work! We prepare! We get things done! That’s who we are!” And God tells them and shows them through the Sabbath, “No. Stop. That is not all you are. That is not why you are mine.” While at seminary this fall, I took a class on Sabbath. Part of the class was committing to practice Sabbath by not working for at least six hours a week. In essence, that’s all Sabbath is, not working because it is sacred time. Shouldn’t be a problem, right? There’s this idea that Sabbath self-care and this lovely time of relaxation with little umbrellas in your drinks. Or at worst, it’s a long dull period of inactivity where you have to sit and twiddle your thumbs. Yes, Sabbath can be those things. And I had some wonderful times where after a long week I could breathe a sigh of relief. And although I really want to encourage you to try this, to commit to a weekly period of rest, I also can’t lie to you. Practicing Sabbath wasn’t just relaxing or dull. Practicing Sabbath at times made me miserable. Let me tell you why. Because I am good at doing things. I am good at being busy. This semester I worked two part time jobs, had a church internship, sang in the choir, took four masters level classes, and maintained a social life. I love bragging about that, but in a really understated way that lets you know that I am awesome and humble. I am a doer, an achiever, and I am excellent at being in control. Sabbath is the opposite of that. I cannot tell you how many Sunday afternoons I sat in my room and started to sink slowly into a whole mess of emotions. Because when I was confronted with what was actually going on in my life, I couldn’t cover it up with more stuff. I couldn’t schedule. One of my big commitments for Sabbath was to put my planner in a drawer. I couldn’t bury my face in a book. I couldn’t go mindlessly click around the internet. I had to sit and pray and realize I was angry or sad. I had to be quiet! I had to think about how all I had been agonizing about all week was really not that important. And I didn’t like that that. Sabbath is this time where everything you build up during the week is slowly peeled away. I wasn’t able to hide behind being a student, or an intern, or an employee. Worse, Sabbath tells me that all of this hard work, all of my well-meaning activity, isn’t really what counts in the end with God. Listen to the words of the elder son from our other story in the New Testament, who knew something about about being frustrated, He said to his father, “Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. And yet you give him a party? He’s angry and upset, just as I was angry and upset. Because all along, he had earned his place and the affection of his father through what he had done, through what he had accomplished. And then suddenly, when his deadbeat younger brother shows up and gets a party anyway, this whole system collapses. This older brother was well-meaning and hard-working. All that he had worked for, this careful facade that he had built up of being good and decent apparently did not mean all that he thought it meant. So sure, he was angry about what was happening to his younger brother, but I also think he was deeply conflicted about what this meant for himself. His father loved all of his sons generously, abundantly, without attention to what they had accomplished. Sabbath is similarly aggravating, because everyone gets it, and we don’t get to just hand out rest to the people who have been working hard enough. A little later in Exodus after our manna story, the ten commandments are given, solidifying the role of Sabbath. This is the only commandment that is very explicit in including everyone. Everyone gets rest, down to the animals. It doesn’t even matter if you are an Israelite or not. It is radically inclusive. We often put Sabbath in the Old Testament category of things we’ve closed the book on, but Sabbath is a gospel message! We all receive because God loves and cares for all, no matter what we do. Sabbath is this crazy loss of control. Sabbath means we lose control over who we are and have to let God be in charge of our identity. Sabbath means that we have to let go of the lie that we can make ourselves have more worth if we just work a little harder, in the gym, at our job, in our relationships. Sabbath tells us we are not defined by what we do, but how we are loved by God. I’ll say this again. Sabbath tells us we are not defined by what we do, but how we are loved by God. Learning that is tough. It goes against our world that tells us work will save you, that a little bit more money will keep you safe. Sabbath pries you away from that, and is part of a transformative faith that tells you you are different. Your value comes from a different place. The desert time was transformational for the Israelites and it makes sense to me that Sabbath was a part of that. God was molding these people away from what they had been, slaves to endless work, and turning them into children of God. That’s what their real identity was. It’s the lesson I am still learning, that gathering a little more manna isn’t life or death. I invite you to practice Sabbath, because Sabbath changes who you are. It makes you set down what you have been frantically trying to gather. Sabbath is rest. But it’s not just physical sleep, Sabbath is rest from having to be perfect, from having it all together. So how? How do we practice Sabbath now? I’ll give you three pointers. First, don’t collect any manna on the Sabbath. Unless some of you have something truly miraculous happening in your backyard right now, I think you’ve got that covered. Second, find out what you have to put down to truly rest. Dig a little deeper than just not going to work on Sundays. We talked a lot about this in my class, because people are different and it’s difficult to have a one size fits all way of talking about Sabbath. For some people, it was technology. They had to lock up their cell phone all day and just not go near it, because that’s what they were devoting their time and effort to. A few people had to refuse to shop. A few had to not clean or cook. So think about it. What keeps you busy, what do you clutch onto? What do you have to set down to rest? Third, and this is the important part, you have to remember that it is God who is offering you rest, and it is God who rests with you. Think of the Israelites standing at the tent flap, ready to go out and gather more manna. Stop, remember that it is God who has brought you out of Egypt and who has already given you bread from heaven. Remember that it is God who has loved you and will love you no matter what you do or don’t do. Sabbath always points back to God. It’s not just some trendy self-help practice or a way to get some extra sleep, but a deep commitment to understanding yourself through God first. Three steps--easy enough, right? So do what you can. Start with six hours a week that you will not work. Tell your family, tell your friends here at church that you will be practicing Sabbath. Invite them to do it with you. Take that time and sit. Don’t fill it with empty activities when you get restless. Enjoy it when it is rest and relaxing, tell a friend when it takes you to the dark corners in your life you’ve been avoiding. Allow for some wiggle room and grace when it doesn’t all go as planned. Embrace the freedom that comes from a lack of work. We have been trained well. I look at you and I see a bunch of well-meaning, hard-working people. I know a few of you would peek out of the tent, seeing if you could just gather a little more manna. Maybe you don’t think you’ve done enough. But you have. Clear out some Sabbath space and time. Rest. Learn to see yourself as God sees you. We are well-meaning and hard-working, sure. But if we set down that extra manna and receive Sabbath, we will begin to see ourselves as we truly are, without qualification, loved and cared for by God. Amen.
* * *
It’s early on the Sabbath. Everyone else is still sleeping. The manna gathered the day before is sitting in the jars in the corner, but it looks meager in the morning darkness. It wouldn’t hurt to go and get just a little bit more, would it? No one would see this early in the morning. But stepping outside the tent and looking around, unlike the six days before, the ground is empty. No manna. No way to get ahead. No way to have any more than what you already have. The day is a Sabbath to the LORD and all is quiet and empty. It’s easy to scoff at the Israelites. You already had enough! An omer, that’s about three pounds of manna per person. Three pounds! That certainly seems to be enough. Why go get more? Why go out on the Sabbath? But these are the well-meaning, hard-working Israelites. These are people who were trained to work under the hot Egyptian sun. But every time the Israelites try to do what they’ve always done, God stops them. They’ve been through a lot, the hardships in Egypt and now in the desert, so who could really blame them for trying to stock up with some extra manna? It’s like they’re trying to line their basements with tin cans of soup and vegetables, but every time they get a can down there, God takes it away. Because you try to gather more than your share of manna? “When they measured it by the omer, the one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little. Everyone had gathered just as much as they needed.” Try to gather manna on the Sabbath? “Some of the people went out on the seventh day to gather it, but they found none.” The well-meaning, hard-working Israelites keep trying to tell God, “We work! We prepare! We get things done! That’s who we are!” And God tells them and shows them through the Sabbath, “No. Stop. That is not all you are. That is not why you are mine.” While at seminary this fall, I took a class on Sabbath. Part of the class was committing to practice Sabbath by not working for at least six hours a week. In essence, that’s all Sabbath is, not working because it is sacred time. Shouldn’t be a problem, right? There’s this idea that Sabbath self-care and this lovely time of relaxation with little umbrellas in your drinks. Or at worst, it’s a long dull period of inactivity where you have to sit and twiddle your thumbs. Yes, Sabbath can be those things. And I had some wonderful times where after a long week I could breathe a sigh of relief. And although I really want to encourage you to try this, to commit to a weekly period of rest, I also can’t lie to you. Practicing Sabbath wasn’t just relaxing or dull. Practicing Sabbath at times made me miserable. Let me tell you why. Because I am good at doing things. I am good at being busy. This semester I worked two part time jobs, had a church internship, sang in the choir, took four masters level classes, and maintained a social life. I love bragging about that, but in a really understated way that lets you know that I am awesome and humble. I am a doer, an achiever, and I am excellent at being in control. Sabbath is the opposite of that. I cannot tell you how many Sunday afternoons I sat in my room and started to sink slowly into a whole mess of emotions. Because when I was confronted with what was actually going on in my life, I couldn’t cover it up with more stuff. I couldn’t schedule. One of my big commitments for Sabbath was to put my planner in a drawer. I couldn’t bury my face in a book. I couldn’t go mindlessly click around the internet. I had to sit and pray and realize I was angry or sad. I had to be quiet! I had to think about how all I had been agonizing about all week was really not that important. And I didn’t like that that. Sabbath is this time where everything you build up during the week is slowly peeled away. I wasn’t able to hide behind being a student, or an intern, or an employee. Worse, Sabbath tells me that all of this hard work, all of my well-meaning activity, isn’t really what counts in the end with God. Listen to the words of the elder son from our other story in the New Testament, who knew something about about being frustrated, He said to his father, “Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. And yet you give him a party? He’s angry and upset, just as I was angry and upset. Because all along, he had earned his place and the affection of his father through what he had done, through what he had accomplished. And then suddenly, when his deadbeat younger brother shows up and gets a party anyway, this whole system collapses. This older brother was well-meaning and hard-working. All that he had worked for, this careful facade that he had built up of being good and decent apparently did not mean all that he thought it meant. So sure, he was angry about what was happening to his younger brother, but I also think he was deeply conflicted about what this meant for himself. His father loved all of his sons generously, abundantly, without attention to what they had accomplished. Sabbath is similarly aggravating, because everyone gets it, and we don’t get to just hand out rest to the people who have been working hard enough. A little later in Exodus after our manna story, the ten commandments are given, solidifying the role of Sabbath. This is the only commandment that is very explicit in including everyone. Everyone gets rest, down to the animals. It doesn’t even matter if you are an Israelite or not. It is radically inclusive. We often put Sabbath in the Old Testament category of things we’ve closed the book on, but Sabbath is a gospel message! We all receive because God loves and cares for all, no matter what we do. Sabbath is this crazy loss of control. Sabbath means we lose control over who we are and have to let God be in charge of our identity. Sabbath means that we have to let go of the lie that we can make ourselves have more worth if we just work a little harder, in the gym, at our job, in our relationships. Sabbath tells us we are not defined by what we do, but how we are loved by God. I’ll say this again. Sabbath tells us we are not defined by what we do, but how we are loved by God. Learning that is tough. It goes against our world that tells us work will save you, that a little bit more money will keep you safe. Sabbath pries you away from that, and is part of a transformative faith that tells you you are different. Your value comes from a different place. The desert time was transformational for the Israelites and it makes sense to me that Sabbath was a part of that. God was molding these people away from what they had been, slaves to endless work, and turning them into children of God. That’s what their real identity was. It’s the lesson I am still learning, that gathering a little more manna isn’t life or death. I invite you to practice Sabbath, because Sabbath changes who you are. It makes you set down what you have been frantically trying to gather. Sabbath is rest. But it’s not just physical sleep, Sabbath is rest from having to be perfect, from having it all together. So how? How do we practice Sabbath now? I’ll give you three pointers. First, don’t collect any manna on the Sabbath. Unless some of you have something truly miraculous happening in your backyard right now, I think you’ve got that covered. Second, find out what you have to put down to truly rest. Dig a little deeper than just not going to work on Sundays. We talked a lot about this in my class, because people are different and it’s difficult to have a one size fits all way of talking about Sabbath. For some people, it was technology. They had to lock up their cell phone all day and just not go near it, because that’s what they were devoting their time and effort to. A few people had to refuse to shop. A few had to not clean or cook. So think about it. What keeps you busy, what do you clutch onto? What do you have to set down to rest? Third, and this is the important part, you have to remember that it is God who is offering you rest, and it is God who rests with you. Think of the Israelites standing at the tent flap, ready to go out and gather more manna. Stop, remember that it is God who has brought you out of Egypt and who has already given you bread from heaven. Remember that it is God who has loved you and will love you no matter what you do or don’t do. Sabbath always points back to God. It’s not just some trendy self-help practice or a way to get some extra sleep, but a deep commitment to understanding yourself through God first. Three steps--easy enough, right? So do what you can. Start with six hours a week that you will not work. Tell your family, tell your friends here at church that you will be practicing Sabbath. Invite them to do it with you. Take that time and sit. Don’t fill it with empty activities when you get restless. Enjoy it when it is rest and relaxing, tell a friend when it takes you to the dark corners in your life you’ve been avoiding. Allow for some wiggle room and grace when it doesn’t all go as planned. Embrace the freedom that comes from a lack of work. We have been trained well. I look at you and I see a bunch of well-meaning, hard-working people. I know a few of you would peek out of the tent, seeing if you could just gather a little more manna. Maybe you don’t think you’ve done enough. But you have. Clear out some Sabbath space and time. Rest. Learn to see yourself as God sees you. We are well-meaning and hard-working, sure. But if we set down that extra manna and receive Sabbath, we will begin to see ourselves as we truly are, without qualification, loved and cared for by God. Amen.
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