Sermon:  Putting Down the Broom

Texts: Matthew 11:28-30

Date: July 6, 2008

Rev. Emily Tanis-Likkel, Eagle Harbor Congregational Church

                You've planned your vacation, packed your suitcase, and have finally reached your destination.  The moment you have been waiting for has arrived. The moment you relax into a lawn chair, pull the latest Macpherson romance out of your beach bag, because finally, you can spend the whole weekend sipping iced tea and reading a novel.  Except that despite the catchy prose, you can't keep your eyes open long enough to get to the second page.  You sigh, “Why am I so tired?  Is vacation such hard work?”  Does this sound familiar?  Many of us don't realize the extent our our exhaustion until we stop.  When our bodies get the message that we can finally rest, then our vacations may cause us to say  such things as, “I feel as if I've been run over by a truck.”  Most teenagers can stay up half the night and sleep in until noon.  Most adults are unable to sleep in, but still need a lot of time to recover after exerting energy.  My husband Brett and I appreciate that when our best friends come to stay with us, they feel comfortable enough to periodically crash on the couch or floor for naps.  Away from the distractions of their home, among friends, their bodies get the message that they can truly rest and recover a bit.

                  In Matthew 11, Jesus says, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”  Jesus offers rest for those who are physically tired, emotionally spent, and weighed down by trouble.  Jesus says, “Come to me.”  We find our rest in Christ.  The way of Jesus is one that gives rest and balance to our lives.  A yoke offers balance for the load one carries.  The yoke of Christ is one of kindness, easing our weariness.  This teaching comes right before Jesus challenges the legalism surrounding Sabbath observance.  Before we learn that the Sabbath is not about restriction, we learn that it is about freedom.  Sabbath is not a suggestion, but a commandment.  There is a time to sweep, and there is a time to put down the broom and rest.[1] 

                  I was talking last winter with a small group of women when the topic of Sabbath came up.  They spoke about how they practice intentional rest in their lives, to nurture their souls and spiritual lives.  I bristled.  Must be nice!  I am not able to practice Sabbath, I told them.  I am a mother of small children.   Sabbath was a luxury of those whose phase of life allowed it.  One woman, also a mom and a pastor, understood my 'woe is me' martyrdom – but she didn't let me get away with it.  She recommended a book by the author Wayne Muller, called Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in our Busy Lives.  She said that this guy seems to get it – that Sabbath is more of an attitude than a set of unattainable rules.  She also suggested that I think of reading to and playing with my children as Sabbath time.  I wasn't so sure.  But I bought the book, and am learning – when I am truly present with my kids, Sabbath can be found in that time.  Besides, what am I teaching to my kids if I am always distracted, those in the church if I am always rushing, my friends if I seem unavailable?  What am I doing to my health?  What am I doing to my relationship with God?  Jesus never said, “blessed are the busy,” because when our schedules don't allow for margin, our health, our wholeness, our Spirits suffer.  Sabbath is not a suggestion, but a commandment.  There is a time to sweep, and there is a time to put down the broom and rest. 

                  Several weeks later, I was at the UCC Annual Meeting, and heard that a meditation room with a labyrinth had been set up at the conference center.  I walked into the windowless, florescent-lit banquet room and looked at the rope labyrinth duct-taped to the ugly carpet.  I love walking labyrinths, and find them to be powerful tools for prayer, but was experiencing some internal labyrinth snobbery.  Clever, I mused, but I'm not going to walk this one.  Besides, the doors were wide open, with conversations floating in – not exactly a meditative environment. When it came right down to it though, I was feeling a bit exposed and vulnerable because of all those passerby.  Just then, a hospital chaplain that I had met earlier that day walked in and right into the Labyrinth.  That woke me up and gave me courage.  I followed her.  I didn't stop and reflect at the entrance, and after I had sped to the first bend, I tried slowing down.  It felt almost impossible to walk slowly.  I was so aware of how uncomfortable my body was.  I was tense, anxious, and rushed.  Then I thought I was at the center, but was momentarily confused, and became even more uncomfortable.  Then a moment later I came to the true center.  I breathed.  Stillness rippled through my body.  I walked back slowly and effortlessly, stopping to pause, not because I should, but because it felt natural to do so. I've been reminded a lot lately for my need to accept stillness, and to take some responsibility for figuring out some ways to get rest.  Being busy is not a virtue.   Sabbath is not a suggestion, but a commandment.  There is a time to sweep, and there is a time to put down the broom and rest. 

                  The book of Exodus reads, “In six days God made heaven and earth, and on the seventh day God rested, and was refreshed.”  Here “refreshed” literally translates “and God exhaled.”[2]  God created the world as an inhale, giving life, and then God exhaled, which completed the work of creation.  When God instituted the Sabbath, God knew that people need downtime to recuperate from all the work they do on a daily basis.  Muller wrote, “If we do not allow for a rhythm of rest in our overly busy lives, illness becomes our Sabbath—our pneumonia, our cancer, our heart attack, our accidents create Sabbath for us.”[3]  Rest is when our immune system is built.  Harmony Hill, the cancer retreat center that many of us have learned about through Ann and Bud, put on a one-day retreat here at Eagle Harbor Church recently.  It was a profound experience for me, as it was helpful not just for those with cancer, but those of us who could benefit from relaxation techniques, yoga, and guided imagery.  We learned a lot about the importance of breath.  When we breathe in for a count of three, and out for a count of six, we are turning on our body's relaxation response.  Shallow breathing alters our physiological and emotional state.  It can lead to anxiety, depression, and illness.  So often people rush to the emergency room with a tight feeling in their chest, and rapid breathing and heart-rate.  So often the diagnosis is not heart attack, but panic attack.  A panic attack occurs when we simply don't breathe deeply enough to get enough oxygen.  The outcome of the Framingham study, which was conducted over the 50 years between 1948 and 1998 says that how a person breathes is the best predictor of longevity and health. Deep breathing can give us mini Sabbaths throughout the day. 

                  We don't have to go anywhere special to breathe.  We don't have to read a theology book before taking up a simple ritual such as lighting a candle to bring awareness to God's presence when beginning a meal.  We  can snuggle with a child and a book to practice Sabbath.  We can be goofy.  We can play, we can laugh, we can sleep.  Muller wrote, “Sabbath does not require us to leave home, change jobs, go on retreat, or leave the world of ordinary life.  We do not have to change clothes or purchase any expensive spiritual equipment.  We only need to remember.”[4]  To be mindful of our breath, mindful of God's presence, mindful of that which is good.  When the TV has been blaring all morning, and you switch it off, isn't it amazing how quiet it becomes?  In Sabbath time we listen to God.  We spend time in nature, with family and friends, with serving others, with reading, walking, and worshiping.  We need that time to rebuild our bodies and our souls.  Sabbath offers freedom from feeling unnecessarily hurried, antsy, or worried. It gives us the permission not to dive from one task to another, and then crashing at the end of the day, feeling spent and exhausted.  In Sabbath we put down our brooms, and rest. 

                  Genesis 2 tells us that God blessed the seventh day and made it holy.  Rabbi Abraham Heschel noted how profound it is that in the creation account, what was hallowed was not something tangible, such as a river or mountain, but it was a span of time that was made holy.  A sanctuary in time.  Christians traditionally observe the Sabbath on Sunday because Christ arose on the first day of the week.  Could you set aside a 24 hour period each week for Sabbath?  If that seems impossible, could you set aside part of a day every week, or a short period of time every day?  If you already practice Sabbath, is there one thing that you could do to enhance the experience?  Could you take one item that you regularly use, and put it away one day out of the week – could you have a Sabbath from TV, computer, or the dishwasher? Sabbath can be observed as many different ways as there are people.  Next week we will be looking at what many find to be life-giving, joyful practices for observing the Sabbath, also how Sabbath can transform a community.  For now, think about how you might dedicate a sanctuary in time to God, by lighting a candle, consecrating the moment, and accepting the gift of rest.

                  Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary.”  The easy, kind, yoke of Christ offers us balance to our frenzied days.  What is preventing you from accepting this balanced life?  For me, it is often stuff that keeps me unnecessarily busy.  I spend a lot of the time that I could be resting re-arranging my stuff, cleaning my stuff, and sifting through my stuff to find a lost item.  The abundance of stuff in my home makes me feel anxious and overwhelmed.  Recently I packed away about 95% of my kids' toys.  Now we all breathe a little bit better.  Over-consumption of things, of activities, of information, can squelch Sabbath.

                  Another thing that can prevent us from experiencing Sabbath is fear.  Muller tells of a doctor friend who said that he and some of his colleagues tended to rush from patient to patient, because if they paused they may not be able to handle the darkness that would come with all the suffering they had witnessed.  They tried insulating themselves through hurry.  And hurry does keep us feeling safe and okay, until the migraines come, or the emptiness, the break-down, the heart-attack or some other crisis. 

                  It is a tendency of our American culture to look always to the future.  This is the theology of progress at work, that we are always striving for the next thing, to get to the future when we will be making more money, have a better job, a nicer car, be less stressed, be happier.  Muller notes that we read Psalm 23 at funerals because it is after we die that we think it is finally time to lie down in green pastures, be led beside quiet waters, and allow our souls to be restored.  If we always look to the future, if we keep going and going until we have and are everything that we desire, then we will never stop.   Lynne Baab wrote, “The relentless activity that surrounds us lures us into the illusion that we are indispensable.”[5]  We are never finished.  We need Sabbath because there is always more to do.  For devout Jews, it does not matter if there are still phone calls to make, emails to send, or mail to open.  If it is sundown, it is time to stop.  In this gift comes incredible freedom.  That is enough for today.  I am enough for today.  It is time to put down the broom, exhale, and rest.

[1]      Sabbath.  Wayne Muller, p.9.

[2]      Sabbath.  Wayne Muller, p. 36.

[3]      Sabbath.  Wayne Muller, p. 20.

[4]      Sabbath.  Wayne Muller, p. 8.

[5]      Finding Fresh Paths, p. 99.