Week Eleven: Jack O'lanterns, Legos, and Legolas

"Lego Garden," by Isaac Snook

The Kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit, because anyone who serves Christ in this way is pleasing to God and approved by men." (Romans 14:17-18)

Our family's Sabbath practice is a bit of a moving target. Sometimes, we practice Sabbath on Friday night and finish it up on Saturday night. Sometimes, we practice Sabbath on Saturday night and finish on Sunday night. The day that we practice Sabbath, we have found, isn't as important as the actual practice of it. Sabbath has become not only something we look forward to each week, but something that helps us through each week.

Our eleven-year old son has been interested in archery since reading about Legolas in the Lord of the Rings. Some of his friends at school told him that they had actually fired some guns and shot some bows in their hunter's safety class. It sounded like fun to him, so I signed him up and we attended the class together. It quickly became clear, however, that this was not the same stirring class his friends had been talking about.  This class went from 6-10 PM on Friday and 8:30-4:30 PM on Saturday. There was no shooting of guns or bows.  Not here. This was a lecture.

But we made it through knowing that Sabbath was coming.

And while we were learning the difference between lever-action and bolt-action rifles, our two younger sons (and their mother) were busy sorting Lego bricks. Over the years in our home, many Lego sets had been assembled, disassembled, reassembled, and disassembled again into a confusing conflation of individual bricks scattered between hither and yon. This disparate assembly was regathered, sorted by color and by size, and then placed into long-empty bins. It has hard, tedious work.

But they made it through knowing Sabbath was coming.

After hunter's safety and Lego sorting, my wife and I met for a couple of hours of tiling in the kitchen.  Oh! The interminable kitchen project.

But we made it through knowing Sabbath was coming.

We finally stopped our saturnine strains and embraced the Sabbath. We had a beautiful dinner coupled with a cacophonous conversation with our oldest son brandishing his newly-minted hunter's safety card our youngest sons showing off their latest Lego masterpieces. (See above.)

It was soon time to go to bed.  The boys were happy.  Their parents were tired.  It felt like the kingdom and we slept in peace.

And we were able to sleep in a little on Sunday.  My wife preached and sang in the choir at a little church that was so appreciative of her gifts. After worship, we enjoyed a potluck meal.  Our oldest son enjoyed two pieces of pecan pie. Our middle son savored the pumpkin. Our youngest son used pie as a vehicle for whipped cream.  There was food for both the body and soul.  It felt like the kingdom. God smiled on that little place and bestowed it with His righteousness.

We came home and put on our comfortable clothes and carved our pumpkins.  During the remains of the day, I know that there was an argument or two between brothers and a reminder of chores and homework that still needed to be done. But what I remember about our Sabbath day was the episodic and spontaneous peals of laughter reverberating through our home. It was LOUD, and it felt like the kingdom. God had blessed our day with joy.

I sometimes wonder about my vocation. I sometimes wonder if I have been a good steward of God's gifts. I sometimes wonder if  I am missing something.  But sometimes, especially with Sabbath practice, there are those moments when God's kingdom sneaks into this unlikely life.  The doubts dissipate in the assurance that I am where I need to be and I am what I need to be.  Sitting on the couch, beside the mother of our own Legolas, surrounded by stray Legos, and in the presence of smiling Jack O'lanterns, I know that my life, at that moment, is pleasing to God and approved by men .

Week Ten: A period, an exclamation mark, and a question.

Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath of the Lord your God; in it you shall not do any work... (Exodus 20:9-10a)

Period.

On Saturday, my eleven-year old son and I were covering the flower beds with mulch.  It was a surprise to my wife who was out of town for the weekend.  I was feeling very magnanimous when he asked, "Dad, is this acceptable Sabbath work?"

My gut response was, "Of course it is! Just imagine your mother's ebullient elation when she arrives at home tomorrow and beholds the work of our hands! Oh! the work of our hands."  However, before I could say anything at all I was acutely convicted by the commandment, "Six days you shall labor and do all your work..." Period.  No, "ifs", "ands", or "buts". You shall do no work.  None at all, and it wasn't just the daffodil beds. Earlier in the day I had fed the chickens, fixed breakfast for our three boys, and helped this self-same son build a field goal from PVC pipe.   My life suddenly seemed very utilitarian.  Especially for a Sabbath day.

So, I answered my inquisitor, "Of course it is! We aren't doing this for us. We are doing this for your mom." This axiom aphoristically assuaged my sore-afflicted soul.

As I further reflect on what I said, I am further convinced it is true.  The Great Commandment given to us by the giver and the fulfiller of all the commandments is this, "You will love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength."  (Luke 10:27) This has always been acceptable Sabbath work; Bible study, fellowship, worship, etc. But this is just the first part of the command. The rest is like it. You will also love "your neighbor as yourself."

So, yes, son. There is an exertion clause.  It is inserted into, and surrounds, the Sabbath. We can labor on the day of rest, but not for the love of the work. Furthermore, we can work, but not to be more productive.  Our only valid Sabbath work is love; love for the Lord and love for one another.  Period.

For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day...(Exodus 20:11a)

Exclamation point.

After the morning labors, the boys and I took advantage of a beautiful fall afternoon to go on an autumnal walk.  The leaves were turning. Some were falling.  A cache of fallen acorns became a priceless treasure.  (Many acorns and their "hairy nests" found their way to the kitchen table.) The two little boys played guns and swords in their castle (aka, tree house) while I shot hoops with the oldest.

For several hours on Saturday we were all outside.  The sun was warm and the air was cool. We were in the same yard and we walked the same neighborhood that has been our home for five years. We were in the same yard we work in and the same neighborhood that we rocket by every day of the week but don't see. Not really. Not close up. Not in a way that reminds us that God's world is big enough to make us lost and small enough to make us kings.

This transformation can only happen if there is a period at the end of our week.  The Lord made the heavens and the earth and the sea and in that period that is Sabbath, we can see just how big God is and we see that it was God that made every leaf and every acorn and every ray of light and breath of wind.  Everything becomes magic and the very period that we found so hard to write becomes an exclamation point we don't want to end.

Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy. (Exodus 20:11b)

A question.

After an ill-conceived and poorly-executed meal of pasta, bacon, toast, and ice cream, the boys and I set out on a night walk.  We were sleepy and tired and dirty and hypoglycemic, but this too was Sabbath work.

There's a pond not too far from our home.  You have to walk around the block and up the street, past an overgrown slough full of the usual urban debris...but if you look up on a clear autumn night, you see the vast unspoiled reaches of space, and if you go just a little further, you find a pond as far as a little boy's eye can see - full of ducks and geese and pirates and sea monsters.

It had been a long way to the end of a good day and the boys were tired by the time we reached the pond.  However, I had been on several night-walks gone bad and on this night I was prepared. I brought granola bars.  We ate in silence and gazed up and out at this world that God had created and we realized, I think, that we belonged in it.  Somehow, God had made it all for us at that moment and in that moment we were made for Him.  It was a mystery, and in a world that somehow has convinced us that knowing is the reason for the journey, it was a miracle.

In Sabbath, God encourages us to write a period at the end of our week.  If we do, God promises us an exclamation point to elevate our pedestrian path. And then, in Sabbath's closing coda, God reminds us that it is to the question mark where our true life leads.  That question mark is holiness. It is the recognition that God is more and God is other.  We can't know...not completely...but it is in this unknowing that we can finally be known completely and be completely at rest.

Church Stopping. Less doing. More being.

Photos from www.freeimages.com (in order) #102275, 115389, 72921

Chapter Nine: Ovine Elevation

And He said to them, "Who shall there be among you, who shall have one sheep, and if it falls into a pit on the Sabbath, will not take hold of it, and lift it out?" (Matthew 12:11)

We started our weekly Sabbath with good intentions.  My wife and I even talked about it during the week indicating to me Sabbath was becoming part of our weekly routine.  We even began to make some plans. With our growing flock, we have found planning to be very necessary.

"Okay, there is the soccer game on Saturday and we have to work a little on the kitchen," I said. "And I am going to have to work a little on Saturday night."

"And I'd like to make a nice dinner on Friday night," my wife countered, "and feed the little lambs breakfast in bed on Saturday morning.  We can work on the kitchen after church on Sunday. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, trying to catch up to my wife's altruistic ambition, "Let's plan on beginning our Sabbath on Friday night with a nice dinner followed by a family game night before bed. On Saturday morning, we will wake the kids with waffles and bacon, go to the soccer game, and finish up on Saturday night with a trip to the pumpkin patch."

It sounded like a great plan and we embraced it with much enthusiasm. Little did we know, the pit was looming before us. 

My wife placed the roast in the crock pot on Friday morning and the delicious aromas wafted through the house all afternoon. Dreams of the glorious Sabbath supper sustained my labor throughout many a trial and travail during the day.  I cam home Friday evening with much anticipation. I sat down with the lambs at the trough. My wife went to check the roast, Alas! The roast was not done. Therefore, Plan B was initiated albeit with less fan fare than Plan A.  The reluctant roast continued its insouciant simmer as we partook of pizza and root beer.

Alternatively nourished, we proceeded to the family game night portion of our "Sabbath rest."  A rousing game of, "Toss the Pigs" ended in  a spectacular double-trotter for our youngest son who was catapulted to victory, gleefully unaware of the agony of defeat sousing the souls of his older siblings.

An imprudent game of UNO evened the score and the pit yawned wide before engulfing our little lambs in self-loathing and enmity.  They went to bed under some duress.

Morning came earlier than usual and my wife and I brought breakfast to our woolly offspring, "Why are you doing this?" the middle lamb asked.  "Because we love you," his mother responded. The pit became a little shallower.  

After breakfast, we loaded up the car and went to the soccer game. We have given up fall sports for our three sheep as we acclimated to a new school, but the team was desperate and our oldest was willing. We went to the game and I didn't understand most of it, but some friends were there and they granted me permission to hold a brand new baby lamb.  With three boys, I am not very practiced with the female variety of the species, but she was unaware of my inexperience and smiled and squirmed happily in my arms.  

While our oldest played soccer, our two youngest found some new friends.  They ran and played and soon it was time to go. I had to give the baby back, and admit I was feeling some loss.  It was then I overheard our middle son, who had worn his favorite shark-tooth necklace to the game, tell his new friend that he could have his treasured possession.  Later, he told me, "He really wanted it, Dad, and there are other shark teeth in the world."

How true. And with that statement, the lamb rescued the shepherd from the pit.

Thus refreshed, our family headed to the pumpkin patch. It was a beautiful afternoon.  Our boys jumped on hay bales, went through a maize-maze, tried their hand at the hoola-hoop, and teeter-tottered till dusk.  It was hard for me, but I spent thirty dollars on squash...but it was worth it. The sheep were happy and their shepherds were happy and we all headed home to a beautiful roast dinner!

Of how much more value then is a child of God than a sheep! So then, it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath.  (Matthew 12:12)

Church Stopping. Less doing. More being.

Photo from www.freeimages.com #1379109

Week Eight: Bricks, Sticks, and Storms

Let the heaven be glad, and let the earth rejoice;

Let the sea roar, and all it contains...

(Psalm 96:11)

It is sometimes difficult for me to get started.  Getting out of bed, going to work, doing the dishes, dancing, beginning the Sabbath...all are difficult things to start.

On Saturday morning, we worked hard at cleaning the house.  This was a big job that involved handing out chores, exhortation of the unskilled labor performing the chores, and inspecting the final product after the chores were completed.  After works righteousness was achieved, we made lunch, served lunch, cleaned up after lunch, and  went to work on the kitchen project.  Oh! The kitchen project. But we worked hard knowing that Sabbath was coming.

Time flies when you are having fun and after what seemed like an interminable amount of time, we cleaned up the mortar and mess and celebrated a belated birthday gift for our five-year old boy by watching a movie he had been waiting to see.

We came back home and made dinner.  We served dinner. We cleaned up dinner. Finally, Sabbath! Ah! Sabbath.

Then, I was called in to work. My world was rocked.  I was reeling. My peaceful Sabbath would have to be postponed all because of the storms of life. They happen to the best laid plans. It is hard to start the stopping.

In the meantime, our two youngest children had been incessantly imploring for a dispensation to sleep  outside on a bed of bricks and sticks that they had made in the far corner of our back yard. So, I did what any loving father would do.  I told them to layer up. I told them to find a stocking cap. I told them to get their sleeping bags and I would meet them outside. I rummaged around in our camping gear and found a tarp and a couple of inflatable backpacking mattresses. I tucked them in and went to work.

It was almost midnight when I stumbled back home and into the backyard.  I noticed that the youngest had rolled out of his sleeping bag and off his mat. He was sleeping directly on the bricks and sticks. He didn't complain when I led him up to his room.  However, the older of the two was sleeping more soundly than I ever remembered him sleeping before. I couldn't rouse him.  I almost left him, but felt that was irresponsible, so I told him that a storm was rolling in.

At church we had communion. "Don't participate in an unworthy manner," we were told. I prayed for grace and took communion anyway.

When church was over, I knew that I couldn't look at the kitchen any more.  I suggested we go out for lunch. My wife agreed.

Then, we came home and helped the kids with homework.

Finally, my wife and I finally sat down in the living room and looked at each other.

We didn't speak.

We didn't move.

We stopped.

And it was like heaven. Ah! Sabbath. It was a glorious afternoon.  The storms had passed.

Soon, our Sabbath wound to a close as it has for several weeks; family devotions.  With three boys ages 5, 8, and 11, family devotions are a challenge.  This week, we tried a family sing-a-long. (This was only possible because I married up musically...way, way up!)  I did contribute by finding the boys favorite songs on You Tube and we then we sang them together; My Lighthouse, "Happy", and the theme from the Lego movie.  My wife tied it all together with an African spiritual we learned on a mission trip over a decade ago.  We finished with a rousing rendition of Father's Day Rap and a reading from Psalm 96.  Like the song says, it truly was awesome!

Then, It was time for bed and putting away the laundry. We finished what we had started.  The boys were happy and we were tired.

It wasn't a perfect Sabbath, but somehow, through the bricks, sticks, and storms of life, it worked. Somehow, God squeezed a few eternal moments into the minutes. I have learned that no matter how hard it is to stop, keep trying. Keep Singing. The Lord is coming!

Let the field exult, and all that is in it. 

Then all the trees will sing for joy before the Lord, 

for He is coming; For He is coming to judge the earth.

He will judge the world in righteousness,

And the peoples in His faithfulness.

Psalm 96-12-13

Church Stopping. Less Doing. More Being.

Photo from www.sxc.hu #768577