Sabbath– the word takes me gently by the hand and leads me away–away from the clutter of a half-done to-do list; away from the clamorous “musts” and “shoulds” of phone calls, emails, and other social demands; away from the guilt-tinged drive to make myself better; even away from the internal pressure to make the most of my “free” time.
As I step away from the things that hem me in, my breath comes deeper and slower, my shoulders relax and I stand straighter, no longer pressed down. My soul simultaneously sits quietly and dances exuberantly, sings with joy and listens for a still small voice.
I’ve heard the Sabbath described as a cathedral in time, separate from the demands of the material world. I think of it as a Narnia-like cathedral, where I step through the open door into an unexpectedly large, open space. A space made of time, yet without time. The Sabbath opens and later closes at the threshold of that cathedral door; on the other side there is no clock or calendar, just an expanse of present, a time and place to be. Present with God, present with myself, present and whole, undivided by minutes and hours and obligations. Won’t you join me in the Sabbath Cathedral in Time?