Posts

practicing sabbath

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.  — Ecclesiastes 3:1 

After our trip alone to Taos this summer, my husband and I realized we needed more boundaries between work and rest. Our current season of life doesn’t naturally afford stops (apart from night sleeps), so we needed to intentionally carve out time to restore spiritually, physically, and relationally. We have always been intrigued by the idea of Shabbat (Sabbath), a traditional Jewish practice of rest, family togetherness, and spiritual attention, but with our Protestant backgrounds, this concept was intimidating and foreign. Over the last couple of years, we have talked with several friends about the ways they practice rest within their homes, and this summer, we took more to read and learn about importance of Shabbat.

I’ve always thought about time in terms of utility, something used for something else entirely. In his book, The SabbathRabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel describes time not as a commodity, but as something holy in itself. He refers to Sabbath days as cathedrals of time which create a sense of longing within us, and poetically notes, “[Shabbat] is a realm of time where the goal is not to have but to be, not to own but to give, not to control but to share, not to subdue but to be in accord. Life goes wrong when the control of space, the acquisition of things of space, becomes our sole concern.” Sabbath is the enjoyment of time itself and the weekly recognition that time is a gift from God.

Last month, we began our own formal practice of Shabbat in hope of living deeper in Jesus together and not allowing our lives to be ruled by work. In just a few weeks of practice, already the Sabbath, especially the Sabbath meal, has become a place of longing and expectation for all of us, even the children. My husband let go of his Saturday work, and I have limited the amount of my own. It is helping us create the boundaries we have longed for, but more importantly, it is teaching how to trust God with our time, to know when to stop working and to celebrate. We are building the habit of saying enough to our work and the “acquisition of the things of space.” We are obviously still learning, but this is a good beginning. Below I have shared a little bit about how we prepare for this time as a family. Naturally, it will look a little different for everyone, but I hope there will be something to glean for you, something to help you treasure the holiness in time.

practicing the Sabbath | Shabbat mealpracticing the Sabbath | Shabbat meal

PREPARATION

On Thursday each week, the children and I write out our weekly meal plan and shop for groceries after school work is finished. On Friday mornings, we work through whatever schoolwork we can complete, and we stop at lunch time. Friday afternoon is for deep cleaning our home: putting things away, but also larger jobs like washing floors and scrubbing down the bathrooms. It’s shocking how dirty our home can become during the week. I often turn on loud, upbeat music for us to enjoy and we pause for an afternoon snack somewhere along the way. This cleaning period requires most of the afternoon, and then we transition to preparation for our Shabbat meal.

I begin by making our weekend cake, a rotating baked dessert we can enjoy all weekend. The children begin by setting the table with a large, white linen tablecloth; our china that we picked up at an antique store in Kansas City ages ago; cloth napkins; candles; and fresh flowers. They often make name cards, practicing their cursive on nice white paper, and position silverware and glasses near each place setting. We fill bottles with water to refrigerate for dinner and begin chopping vegetables or preparing meat. Since it’s still quite warm here, we’ve mainly prepared fish that we can grill for these dinners, although I look forward to oven roasts for colder days in upcoming months. We often roast some vegetables and make a complimentary salad. Although we’re hoping to make our own challah bread at some point, right now, we pick up a couple of loaves of baked bread from the grocery bakery for ease.

When dinner prep is complete, I fill two more glass carafes, one with red wine and another with Italian soda for the children. We quickly wipe down counters and wash the dirty prep dishes, although some weeks we run too close to dinner-time for this and clean-up happens afterward. We all get dressed for dinner, freshening up and putting on something nicer than our ordinary daily clothes. This dinner is special for us, and we want to dress accordingly. Our home is generally very casual and our family dining out is as well, so our Sabbath meal is also a great way to teach our children simple rules of dinner etiquette, such as placing a napkin in your lap, keeping your elbows off of the table, or requesting/waiting for someone to pass food to you.

My younger sister, Kristen, is married to my husband’s younger brother–I know, crazy! Brothers married to sisters. Since traditionally the Shabbat meal is intended to be a family event and they live nearby, each week, we all share this meal together.  Before grocery shopping, Kristen and I talk about which meal we want to make and divide up the dishes. Sharing the meal preparation is such a gift! They arrive to our home, dressed, and we all sit down in our named places. Everyone has a place at the table, toddlers included.The baby might be playing in her infant seat or on a palette of blankets on the floor near the table. When she’s restless, we all take turns holding her.

THE MEAL

practicing the Sabbath | Shabbat mealpracticing the Sabbath | Shabbat meal

The first part of our meal time is quite formal. My husband wrote down several Messianic Jewish prayers on a notecard that we use, including a blessing of the meal, lighting the candles, sharing of communion, a formal hand washing as a posture of our hearts, and a formal blessing of sons, daughter, mothers, and fathers. Communion and the blessing of the family parts is by far my favorite portion of this time in our meal. Although brief, it celebrates and recognizes each family member and declares noble truths over each person.

After the blessing and prayer time, we pour drinks, serve plates, and eat. This part has been the greatest surprise for me. The adults and children slowly enjoy a nice meal and conversation together, even the youngest ones. It is not rigid or dogmatic but a natural enjoyment of all of our work and effort. As the children finish their meals, they head off to play, while the adults linger and talk together.

After the mealtime when Kristen and Tim leave with their family, our own family piles on the couch for a movie night together. Bedtime is pushed back due to our movie night, a pleasure for all the children, with the intention that everyone can sleep-in the next morning. From the moment the Shabbat meal begins, work ceases. We do not check emails or any other work related thing (unless an emergency) until after sundown on Saturday. This can be the most challenging part, especially since I work from home, So I usually tuck my planner and notepad away and stay clear of the computer during those hours. Although difficult at times, this has been the most restorative practice for me.

________________________________________________________________________________

The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. — Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath

___________________________________________________________________________________

THE SABBATH DAY

2015_week22-3

Sleeping-in on Saturday morning is highly respected by everyone in our home (a perk of older children). Our youngest child is six (and often one of the last to wake up), so everyone is old enough to entertain themselves quietly until everyone is awake. During the Sabbath day, our routine is not open and flexible. We usually begin with fresh fruit pancakes my husband and Burke make together, and after that we relax as it seems fit for the day.

As the weather cools more in the next few months, we hope to make day-trips to hike, but until then and while we’re indoors more, we tend to read or play games with sporadic walks or trips to the park during cooler parts of the day. I often let the kids have time playing video games (since we rigidly limit this during the week).  Whatever we do, the point is to do it together and enjoy time without the obstacles of home projects or work.

I hope to have more to share about this part the longer we celebrate this day.  I’m curious, do you practice the Sabbath or another time period of regular rest in your home?

Recommended readings on Sabbath: || 1 | 2 | 3

To read more about our family practice over the years: Here and here.

 

the_common_table-1

A large farm table sits at the center of our home between windows and books and doorways to other rooms. It is the place where we eat and work together as a family, where we naturally gather with one another and friends for food or craft or talk. Yet in a more abstract way, the table is also a telling of the soul, a litmus test of our family’s connection and availability. As our little everyday things–mail, school and artwork, groceries–accumulate and sprawl the surface, the table always asks us honestly, have you made time for one another today? Have you cleared the lingering clutter of your life to sit with food and story?  

I have learned so much about myself through and around this piece of furniture. One quick glance at our table and I know the quality and pace of our life, how ordered our days feel, and more importantly, what we value. For us, a well-nurtured table doesn’t mean it is always tidy with fresh flowers at the center–although I really love it and find it most alluring that way. Those descriptives are mere beginnings and endings. In contrast, our table can be loved most in its mess, buried in crumbs and elbows. It is where we return again and again over our work and food and life. We wipe it clear and snip fresh flowers only to dirty it again. Here, we share the peak of our days and the lowest of our failures. Over take-out food or the finest dinners alike, we remember life is one continuous meal full of mess and glory. Whether our day’s efforts turn to burned pastries or the most savory of sauces, it will pass, and we will begin something new again. The table is not a place of perfection. It is a place of honest connection, a place where we meet with one another just as we are. 

Still, it always feels easier to gather my family and friends when life feels leisure and tidy when I have space and time to make every detail perfect. Some of these meals, especially around holidays,  I painstakingly plan to the minutia–who will be there and what will it look like? What sort of food will we eat? How do I want them to feel during this time together? It’s easy to confuse a gathering with an event–and there’s certainly a place for both. It’s easy to cast off the importance of gathering because we feel ill-suited and less than best. It’s easy to allow the mess of our lives to keep us from inviting others into it. But those times around the table, when life feels full of muddled chaos, is when a meal together can be most impactful. It can be the slow and intentional elixir we crave most, even without realizing it. Although I don’t prefer it this way, on the messier, dizzying days, when we’ve shuffled around the table, using it more for storage than connection, I simply grab a pile of our day’s work and move it to another room or to the floor. I temporarily put the mess aside to make room to gather in the simplest manner. We sit together to share our food, where the mess and imperfections become a part of our story.

20131128-191613.jpg

20131128-191638.jpg

20131128-191656.jpg

20131128-191710.jpg

20131128-191745.jpg

Sometimes it is easy to look at other people’s pictures or lives and feel that I am somehow missing out. That I don’t have enough. Sometimes things don’t go as I plan, even when I plan well. Sometimes I have to choose to give thanks when I least expect it–even  possibly on the day we commemorate it. For instance, I may have actually taken more time to get dressed for dinner this evening, paying attention to details in a way I wouldn’t typically, only to find myself later wearing a child’s vomit. I arranged candles across the table, preparing the space where the meal my parents lovingly labored over would sit, only to realize that special meals are still meals to children–consumed quickly enough to have dessert with little care for mealtime conversation or decor. Yet still–although perhaps more humbly–I am to give thanks. Not only when everything is perfect or goes as planned, but also when it doesn’t. Maybe in the latter, on these sort of days, the giving of thanks actually feels like a gift. A precious gift. Something hidden within me that I have to retrieve. This evening, I spent a little time this evening remembering, retrieving.  I remembered how thanksgiving restores us, rather than depleting us, how the recounting of gratitude changes our heart. A noble reminder for the day, I think.

Happy Thanksgiving.

 

 

IMG_1303IMG_1306IMG_130520130416-081019.jpgIMG_130420130416-081027.jpgIMG_132320130414-215828.jpg20130416-081034.jpg 20130414-215820.jpg20130416-081042.jpg20130416-082301.jpg

Maybe it was the way last week’s muddled grey clouds hovered like dust over my soul or the unexpected chill that forced us back into winter coats. Maybe we needed an event to share with friends — an art fair — to beckon Spring’s rich tapestry. Or maybe it was simply our waiting, our rituals of taking meals and coffee and play outdoors waiting for Spring, the true one who stays. Regardless of why, this weekend she came with sun and wind, blowing away the dust and chill, leaving us with pink shoulders. My heart is alive.