This past week was really tough for me. My husband came down with a stomach virus and was sick for a couple of days. Then my son got it. Then I got it. I spent all week cleaning up puke and washing about 500 loads of laundry–well, not really 500, but it seemed like that many. By Thanksgiving Day, everyone was feeling somewhat better, but I was too tired to cook much, so we had pizza for Thanksgiving dinner. On Friday I had to catch up on all of the laundry and dishes that I hadn’t had time to finish yet. I hardly had a moment to myself all week.
Then, last night, we were driving to church to rehearse for our annual Christmas cantata. It was just getting dark, and the clear, cold sky was still pink by the horizon. The crescent moon was rising. As we left town, I could see a canopy of stars blanketing the sky. I was awestruck by the beauty of everything that God had created, as if I were seeing it for the first time. And I would have missed all of that if I hadn’t taken the time to notice it.
In the back seat of the van, my four-year-old daughter was singing songs of praise to God–songs that she made up herself as she sang. I was filled with thanksgiving because of all of the blessings that God has given me: a wonderful husband and three happy and healthy children, who all love Jesus and who pray all the time. And I would have missed that moment if I hadn’t taken the time to treasure it.
That’s what the Sabbath means to me. At the end of a long week (this one particularly long), I take time out from my mundane household tasks and all of my other obligations and just enjoy spending time with God and with my family and with other people. I have a whole day when I can pray and study and meditate on everything that God has done for me–all of the wonders of creation and the wonders of salvation. And I would miss out on a great blessing if I didn’t take advantage of that opportunity.
Sure, a person could do this any day of the week, but other days just don’t have the same spiritual significance to me. Many Christians choose to honor Sunday because of Jesus’ resurrection, and if that’s what they are convicted of, they should follow their convictions. There is nothing wrong with going to church on Sunday or any other day or every day, and it is certainly a good idea to worship God every day of the week. However, I choose to specifically set apart a whole day for spiritual rest–the day that God sanctified in the very beginning when He created the world. Before an Israelite or a written law or human sin even existed, God blessed that day and made it holy. He blessed it for our benefit. He gave it as a gift, not a law–a gift to help us remember Him as our Creator and Redeemer, a gift to help us refresh our spiritual lives. I rest in Him on the Sabbath, and I remember that His work for me has granted me the eternal life that I could never achieve myself.
Hebrews 4 connects God’s rest at the end of creation with our eternal rest. The Sabbath rest spoken of in Heb. 4:9 foreshadows our eternal rest. From the context of the rest of the chapter and the preceding chapter, God's rest clearly refers to the eternal rest that God entered after creation and that we enter by faith. For me as a Christian, experiencing the joy of the Sabbath rest gives me a foretaste of God's eternal rest, which I enter now by faith and which I will experience fully in heaven.
To me, the important thing about the Sabbath is not the law written on stone but the principles written on my heart. I think that sometimes we as Christians have the wrong idea about the law. The heart of the law is not the Ten Commandments. It is not the ceremonial requirements. It is not the 613
mitzvot that people keep saying that we Sabbath-keepers must follow in order to avoid hypocrisy. The law is summed up here:
MK 12:28 One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, "Of all the commandments, which is the most important?"
MK 12:29 "The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: `Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. 30 Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.' 31 The second is this: `Love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these."
Jesus wasn’t saying anything new here; He was quoting the Old Testament (Deut. 6:4-5; Lev. 19:18). Even the Jewish experts in the law during Jesus’ time understood that these were the great principles that lay at the foundation of the Torah. (See Luke 10:25-29–the setting for the parable of the Good Samaritan.) These were always the most important commandments, and they are still. The eternal principles of love for God and love for our neighbors are what God wants to write in our hearts. The written laws, including the Ten Commandments, are specific applications and interpretations of these principles. They were added because of transgressions (Gal. 3:19), because people had become so depraved that they could no longer discern God’s principles. They had erased them from their hearts, so God had to give them concrete reminders to show them their sin and their need to turn to Him for salvation. Jesus made it possible for us to once again have these principles written in our hearts and to live by them through the power of the Holy Spirit.
My point is that my concern is not with the letter of the law but with the spirit. God has convicted me to set aside the day that He made holy in the beginning as a day of spiritual renewal in remembrance of His creation and in anticipation of finally being able to spend eternity with Him. My Sabbath experience is fully in line with the principles of loving the Lord with all my heart and doing good to others, as Jesus taught.
These are my personal convictions, and I follow them because God has placed them in my heart as I have studied and prayed about this subject. I won’t judge anyone who is not convicted as I am, so to those who disagree: please do me the courtesy of not using Romans 14 or Colossians 2 or Galatians to condemn me and my fellow Sabbatarian Christians as legalists or self-righteous hypocrites.