Yes, I know we still talk about it because it's important. It does appear, after all, as an entire commandment and is woven into the actions of God in creation. Sabbath doesn't just say something about us; it says something about God.
Yes, I know there are some people still don't want to or cannot apply it to their lives. I know these people personally. I was one of these people in music school (though when I was not practicing/studying, I was working to pay for college, and people who have no money don't get to have Sabbath. If you are lucky enough to be financially stable without working every minute of every day, you are quite lucky, and remember that not everyone is like you).
But I wonder if the whole idea of "Sabbath" is a little like perfecting a violin concerto- one can get close to perfect, but it will truly always remain elusive. But we want to be perfect with our Sabbath; we want structure that doesn't allow us to mess up occasionally, and when we do mess up, we think it's all over and we might as well forget about keeping Sabbath- it's just too hard. Time to give up.
Or maybe we see other people who have emotional needs being filled by their excessive work schedules, and we want them to get on board with the rest of us already. Our Sabbath just seems lazy when other people get real work done in that time. They need to slow down so that we can slow down.
Maybe it's our lack of universal definition. I found this when I intentionally made "Sabbath" a goal in my supervised ministry internship in seminary. I asked every pastor I saw to describe/define "Sabbath" in practical terms. The answers were across the spectrum.
So then, I wonder if we are in a cycle of displeasure with our own and other's Sabbath-keeping because we don't know how to measure it or what it looks like.
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What if "Sabbath" is not about the individual? The commandment is included in the first 4-5, typically considered commandments that tell us how to live in relationship with God (versus the last 5-6, which tell us how to live in relationship with our neighbors). It seems natural that we should spend our Sabbath time alone with God. Then again, it could be a distinct Western cultural idea that we should all do the same thing at the same time, but individually (see suburbs, traffic patterns, libraries, etc.). We can largely agree that the "weekend" is a good time to rest, but we also agree that rest means not having to deal with each other. As an introvert, I'm totally cool with doing my own Sabbath thing in the midst of a whole bunch of people with which I'm not interacting. And seriously, heavily interacting with people is not really "rest" for people like me. It takes enormous amounts of energy just to be around people and meet all their silent judgments and social norms with an ounce of dignity. That doesn't mean that we introverts can't spend time with other people in rest though. We just require the suspension of (mostly) verbal interaction.
What if "Sabbath" is more than one action or has claim on more than one part of our lives? One pastor described "Sabbath" to me as "a nap." I think this is definitely Sabbath, usually the only one to which I had occasional access in poverty. Once the nap is done, however, the dread only multiplies on returning to the work. It's not recharging as much as it is escaping for a short period. Recharging is more likely to come from study, critical thinking about issues that affect one's life, dreaming and hoping for the future, interaction with people who care about you. The nap is great, but it needs some help from other forms of Sabbath to be truly effective.
What if "Sabbath" is not so much about our escapism from reality, but becoming more heavily involved with what is physically going on around us? There have been quite a number of news items about being too "plugged in" to technology and out of touch with reality. Some even say that quiet time is necessary for basic brain function, the kind we don't get when we can't daydream. The "digital Sabbath" has become an interesting google search (go ahead...google it). Our typical tools of escape, particularly related to our entertainment, have an addicting effect. I saw this on my trans-Atlanta flights recently: despite the fact that the airline provides a screen in front of every flyer, with access to movies, tv, games, music, etc., most people had their iphones out the entire trip. We are an enormously entertained people. We have multiple options for entertainment. Ironically, most of the babies on board needed entertainment and weren't getting it from their parents, who were glued to their iphones while their babies screamed.
So are we missing something when we distract ourselves constantly away from personal interaction, development of relationships with our loved ones, time to daydream about problems, opportunities to study and listen to each other deeply, or just give ourselves a break from constant sound and visuals and interactions with technology? Do pastors have a role in helping people break the cycle of the life of excess work and entertainment in order to have a healthier grip on reality? How do we address our individualism and escapism when we are so thoroughly enchanted with them (I mean, enchanted with ourselves)?
