Silence Can Be Golden
I know this is a Tuesday as I write this, but I want to talk about Sunday. As I start to record my thoughts today I need to include a caveat – perhaps the content of this post will only be remembered and understood by Baby Boomers or someone older. It’s all about Sunday as a day of rest.
It just so happens that our recent Sunday School text is about the Ten Commandments – you remember those don’t you, the commandments that can no longer be displayed on court buildings or government property? The fourth commandment, “Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy,” addresses the need to rest from our labors. Sabbath according to Wikipedia “is a day set aside for rest and worship. According to the Book of Exodus the Sabbath is a day of rest on the seventh day.”
Now to remember the time period when this was honored more than it is today one has to time travel back to a time of no cell phones, a time when businesses were closed on Sunday, a time when Sunday was a time to rest and be with family.
Even before we started our study at church I would often hark back to the Sundays of my youth, especially my teens. It was a great time to be alive, I was there then and I can attest to it. I have to tell you up front that as a police officer my father often had to work on Sunday, as many did and still do. How could we feel secure with no law enforcement, firemen, doctors, nurses and all other critical professions out there to take care of us in an emergency? Those guardians were needed then and now, no doubt.
But basically our whole town stopped its frenetic activity, and took a day to breathe, go to church, cook a roast and just be still. My best friend lived a few doors down the street. We were inseparable, together every spare moment. However, on Sundays we did not visit. I went to church with her occasionally, but not always. But no matter what on Sunday one stayed home and literally rested.
It is not such a bad plan, to divorce oneself from the commercialism, noise, labor of the week before. My most cherished memory of those times is how quiet it was. A person could think, read, nap and through it all the hustle and bustle was not to be heard.
I came to consistent involvement in organized religion late in life, so I am preaching to myself right now. I miss those days, life was simpler and families were closer. No one did anything at the dinner table but say grace, eat and talk. Yes, talk – you know that thing one does instead of texting or e-mailing or "instagramming" or whatever requires the constant use of some electronic device?
Since I have joined a church I have made more of an effort to do what most people did in that faraway past of mine – be still. I try to get most of my errands run on a Saturday, so I can leave church and head home to rest, think, recharge my batteries so to speak. It is a great concept. Whether one is religious or not a rest from the mayhem of the weekly grind is a good idea. Try it sometime, I think you will agree.