By Sabbath, I mean the seventh day, a period of religiously proscribed rest from sundown on Friday to sundown on Saturday. Over the past few years, I’ve become convinced that the Church made a grave mistake when it moved its day of worship - and rest - to Sunday. At a stroke, this created a social and economic wall between Christians and Jews, throughout Europe and beyond. Along with other misreadings, and misapplications of scripture, this set the stage for centuries of Christian inspired antisemitism.
Many of us grew up believing that Sunday is the seventh day because that’s how it’s been treated. But Sunday is the first day of the week. The Christian day of worship and rest was moved to Sunday because Jesus was crucified on a Friday, and rose from the dead three days later on the Sunday. However, Seventh Day Adventists, and other seventh day Christians, have, in my opinion, made a pretty convincing case that this was a misreading of scripture - but that’s a subject for another day.
Even our Sunday Sabbath is no longer special. There are still remote parts of the British Isles where you can no longer buy alcohol on a Sunday, and some areas where rest from all activity is socially enforced, but that’s very rare now. Do you remember how the shops used to be closed, and town centres were deserted? It was unthinkable that there would be football matches or other entertainment on a Sunday back then.
As much as we might resent restrictions on personal freedom, do we not miss something about a time when society took a collective breath once a week?
Thoughts of Sabbath keeping are on my mind now as our non-stop world has suddenly ground to a halt, and our disconnected nation has to pull together. I don’t need to describe this, because everyone, literally everyone, is experiencing this at the same time. And isn’t that strange? We thought the idea of a national narrative had fractured into a thousand different tribes, sub-tribes and echo chambers. Now we are all looking at the same page in an unfolding story, the end of which, the next chapter even, is uncertain.
Of course it is serious. There will be chaos, suffering, and lives will be lost. Thank God that children seem to be safe, but how dreadful that the old, and those with underlying ill health, are those most in danger from the virus. At some point we will look back and ask ourselves if we, personally and collectively, did everything we could to protect the most vulnerable members of society. It will be unbearable if we conclude that we could have done more.
This serious concern notwithstanding, there will be many, many upsides to this pandemic. We can emerge from this as new people, and into a new world.
Throughout the land, people are reassessing what matters most in their life. So many people are asking themselves why they are on this planet, what meaning they can find, and what contribution they can make. A great spiritual and ethical uplift is on its way from all this. Already, street by street, community links are being forged, and plans being made to help out neighbours in need.
And we’re throwing ourselves into projects and cultural pursuits. We’re reading our unread books and getting on with postponed jobs around the house. Expect a culture boom - a Corona Renaissance if you like, as writers, musicians, artists and artisans share the fruit of their self-isolation.
This could be a time of real renewal. Nationally, and internationally, the orthodoxies of the non-stop world will be challenged soon enough. Do we have to be locked into a non-stop system, in which resources, labour and profit are endlessly extracted - from the environment, families and communities? Our assumptions about globalism are going to be examined too. This virus seems to be the only thing that has ever been distributed with some degree of equality around the planet. We all want to be connected to the rest of the world, but isn’t there a better way of doing this?
So, where can we look for inspiration as we seek a better way of jointly living our lives once this is all over?
A good place to start would be with a new appreciation of the Sabbath: the collective pause in which something is expected of us, but from which we all gain.
Some R.E. textbooks tell pupils to learn the Ten Commandments by separating them into two groups: four spiritual commandments and six that are social. So, according to this scheme the four spiritual commandments are: no other Gods, no idolatry, don’t misuse God’s name, and observe the Sabbath (or ‘keep the Sabbath Holy’ to be more precise.) The six social commandments, then are: honour your mother and father, do not kill (murder), do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not Lie, and do not covet your neighbour’s possessions or relations..
This might be a handy way for students to remember them, but it’s a false division. Each of the so called spiritual commandments have social consequences, and each of the so called social commandments have a spiritual foundation. None more so than the fourth commandment, Remember to keep the Sabbath day holy.
An individual who stops work in remembrance of his or her faith one day a week, gains spiritually. A family or community that does the same thing gains spiritually, but with a social dimension. For a society to stop work as one may have spiritual aims, but it leads to a profound social and economic outcomes.
Within the family, respite from the demands of work allows our lives together to be about more than just surviving, because human flourishing requires work and rest. But it only works because everyone is doing it together. No one can gain an advantage, no one can produce or sell more than you. For at least one day we don’t have to be preoccupied with economic and physical security.
A society in which no one ever stops working quickly becomes not worth living in. Many societies have got round this by seeing that only one race, sex, or class works while the other one rests, but the Sabbath means no one avoids the work, and no one is prevented from resting.
The Sabbath means a day when people can develop relationships with their neighbours, though being careful not to break the seventh commandment! As the frenetic race of life pauses, our communities can become safer and more pleasant.
If everyone agrees to cease their business for the same period of time, then the environment, as well as the family, is given a chance to recover - or at least its degradation is slowed down.
Okay, I accept this is a rose tinted view of the Sabbath in bygone days, and it’s hard to imagine a Sabbath comeback. But stranger things have happened. Young people are into beards, drinking gin and giving their children Victorian names. Who knows? Perhaps a new generation could rediscover the Sabbath, in the same way that they fasten on to music, fashions, and even politicians from the past.
One thing’s for sure, though. This period of enforced, perpetual Sabbath, has given us a glimpse of what it could be like if this non-stop world could learn to pause and take a breath again.
And even if the Sabbath doesn’t make a comeback, the Sabbath principle has to. Unless we place limits on ourselves we are doomed. We can’t save ourselves by leaving it to individuals to limit themselves if they wish to. Sometimes we have to act together - and everyone has to get on board or no one will be safe. Maybe we can remember this lesson when it’s all over. Something wonderful could be waiting for us at the end of this time of worry and danger.
The fifth commandment should weigh on us too at this time: ‘Honour your mother and father’.
As we contact the old people we know, we could reflect that this will mean that some self-isolating old people are now receiving more attention and help than they have for many years. Many old folk were already isolated, and apart from the danger and difficulty of shopping, they won’t notice much difference during this pandemic.
The chronic loneliness of many old people in our country horrifies visitors from less developed parts of the world. This should tell us that our western way of life does not have all the answers. Maybe now we will all see this more clearly. Can we come out of this crisis resolved to treat our elderly population better? If we did gain respite from non stop work and competition, could we be trusted to use some of that time improving life for our elderly relatives and neighbours?
The response of the elderly to coronavirus is largely admirable, but there is cause for concern here as well. I’m hearing how some old people are failing to take the advice about self-isolation and social distancing seriously. It’s been all stoicism and misplaced courage, with comments like ‘we lived through the Blitz, we’ll get through this.’ It’s tempting to respond that they got through the blitz by doing what they were told. The instances over the past few days of some old people disregarding government advice and continuing their lives as before, are truly alarming. If anyone tells you they are ignoring the advice because of the blitz spirit, perhaps you could point out that ignoring the government advice right now is akin to leaving a light on during an air raid.
Some middle aged people are struggling to convince their elderly parents to take this more seriously. This is the generation that used to implore us to obey their instructions and heed their advice, and the irony is not lost on many! Maybe we need to apologise to our parents for all the times we disobeyed them in our younger years, before pleading with them to do the right thing now. Most of us, I think, feel like shutting out the news right now, but it's important that we don't shut the necessary information out completely.
Hopefully the message is sinking in as we all get accustomed to the situation, but my generation will keep nagging and cajoling. Unfortunately it’s the only way we can truly follow the fifth commandment in this extraordinary situation. A laissez faire attitude just ain’t gonna cut it right now.
Stay safe and well, everyone. May God bless you with wisdom, endurance, and even joy over the days ahead.
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