Sunday, June 5, 2011

Day of Rest

One good thing about being a churchgoer is that you spend Sunday morning in church, which means that you don't spend it working at your computer, working around your house, or working in your yard. I spend every Sunday morning in church, usually attending two services: the Where the Wild Things Worship children's service at 9:15 (which I help to organize) and big people's church at 10:15. Until Grandpa died last summer at age 99 1/2, the boys and I spent every Sunday afternoon visiting him at his house down in Golden, the setting for my ten Gus and Grandpa books. Sundays were always my favorite day of the week.

I'm keeping the Sabbath today. Church this morning: communion, with Christopher playing all the hymns and communion background music on the piano, beautifully. Now I'm heading to the pool with Rowan, to sit in the shade and eat cherries. I'm not going to work at house-salvaging. I'm not going to catch up on grotesquely neglected writing-related tasks.

I'm going to do nothing, and I'm going to spend all day doing it.

I've often marveled that for much of the last several thousand years, desperately poor subsistence farmers and herders managed to keep a Sabbath, but we, in our position of comparative privilege, find it almost impossible to do so. There are always more items to cross off on our to-do list, so many, so many!

But today there are just two items on mine:
1. Go to church
2. Go to the pool and sit in the shade and eat cherries

Sounds good, doesn't it?

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