Grounding Sabbath in Gratitude
It’s one thing to desire a 24-hour period of time to stop, rest, delight, and worship–another thing altogether to make it practical. If we all want it, then why is it so hard? The simple answer is that it cuts across the grain of a restless culture. But the resistance we feel isn’t just “out there” in the world; it’s also in us. We are creatures of limitless desire. To come to a place of rest we have to do resistance training against the internal dynamics of greed, envy, discontent, and ingratitude in our own hearts. The spiritual writer, Ruth Haley Barton notes that practices like sabbath expose an interior “push/pull dynamic.” When we engage in the practice, we experience a tug-of-war in our chests. On the one hand, there's the pull to genuinely be with Jesus and find rest for our souls; On the other, we also feel a push away from Jesus and the lifestyle he offers. We confront our reluctance to give up our autonomy and self-will to surrender to him. Any spiritual practice will bring this dynamic to the surface, but Sabbath is unusual in how immersive it is. A full 24 hours, one day a week, to step out of the flow of productivity and accumulation.
I included a quote from Richard Rolheiser on Sunday: “We are restful when ordinary life is enough.” Sabbath trains us to resist the cultural narrative that not only do we deserve the things we have, but we also deserve whatever it is we desire. When that little (false) narrative begins to bounce around in our minds and our hearts, our subconscious thoughts will always drift toward the glittering allure of “more.” That can’t help but breed discontent. We’ll always be waiting for something else or someone else to come along and change the script so that our real lives can begin.
To help us see that the ordinary experience of life is enough, sabbath opens up space for practicing gratitude. At heart, gratitude is a conscious posture of contentment. It safeguards against the relentless hunger for more, by centering our hearts on the present reality of God’s faithfulness. Focusing on the goodness of what we have already been given helps us get off the treadmill of materialism and want. Grounding sabbath in gratitude can place our focus on the joy of what has already been given instead of the insufficiency of what we don’t have. One thing I make every attempt to avoid on the sabbath is advertisements. The reason is simple: they are geared toward stirring up (and monetizing) my restlessness. I know in my head that this is the result of a chemical reaction and that having the thing will produce a short burst of dopamine that won’t last. It’s not a rational feeling, but knowing that doesn’t make the feeling less strong. I see something I want, and it’s hard for me to resist the twinge of discontent that I don’t already have it.
Sabbath has allowed me to train my mind and body to enjoy the things I already have. Here’s a suggestion: as you sit down to dinner on Sunday (or whenever you practice Sabbath) have each member reflect on something good they have or experienced. Maybe a toy your child rediscovered because they had the time to sort through the toy-box? Or a new trail off the usual route that led to a discovery.
Whether we give thanks by writing a list of blessings down in a journal, saying them aloud around the dinner table, gathering in community to share the faithfulness of God in prayer—gratitude opens the space for us to realize how God has been sustaining us all along.
Throughout the day, as you rest and delight—take a moment to pause and thank God for the small grace of ordinary things: laughter, a good meal, the touch from a spouse, a smile on your child’s face, conversation with a good friend, the crisp autumn air and the turning of the leaves. These are the things that calibrate your heart toward joy so your heart makes the migration from work and worry to wonder and worship.
