“The ancient rabbis teach that on the seventh day, God created menuha- tranquility, serenity, peace, and repose – rest, in the deepest possible sense of fertile, healing stillness. Until the Sabbath, creation was unfinished. Only after the birth of menuha, only with tranquility and rest, was the circle of creation made full and complete.”
~ Wayne Muller, Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in Our Busy Lives

A funny thing happens when you read a book several times. You bring to a second, third or fourth reading all the life experiences that have happened in between. They inform the words and your eyes and your heart are drawn to completely different words with multiple readings. Since I am a great book underliner, I know this is true. This quote from Wayne Muller’s book, one I have read at least four times if not more, is a perfect example. I have underlined sentences and whole paragraphs in this book. Some of my highlights still make sense to me but others create brow-furrowing reactions. Why was I drawn to those words? Why did I take the time to underline that whole paragraph?

My faith community has engaged in reading this book for Lent. It is a great book, one that always challenges me and causes me to think about the small and large movements of my days. I am anticipating conversations and insights others may have as they read it for the first time or once again.

The paragraph I printed at the beginning of this post is one I had glossed over in my other readings. But for some reason, this time, it jumped right out at me and shook its fist in my face. “Until the Sabbath, creation was unfinished.” It opened yet one more door on this central story which shapes a worldview and even an understanding of the Holy. Until there was a sense of tranquility, repose and rest, the rhythm of Creation was not complete.

Perhaps this paragraph decided to dance with me because, I confess, I am not a very good rest-er. I have been noticing this lately and have begun trying to be better at it. The problem with ‘trying’ to rest is that the trying can become another task, another effort that really is not resting but working at resting. Does this make sense to you?

But when I think about the process of creation and the ways in which it plays itself out in my life, I can begin to see how without the final movement of serenity, peace and rest, the creative process is a cycle without wholeness. I imagine an artist painting or sculpting, how the inspiration, energy and adrenaline moves toward the culmination of portrait or statue. Can the work be complete without the final step of stepping back resting in the beauty of what has been created?

Thinking about my friends who are musicians, I think of the ways in which notes, rests, words, tunes, rhythms move together to create song. This composition all comes together in some form for someone to hear or sing or play. And can it really be complete without those final moments when the exertion has ceased and the sound is suspended in the air, held on the breath of those visible and invisible? This moment of peace and serenity becomes that place of ‘healing stillness’ that gives finality to what has been born and hope for what is yet to be.
Everyday we embark on acts of creativity both grand and mundane. In doing so we embody the gifts and intention of the Great Artist. From the meals we make to the lessons we teach, from the conversations we nurture to the decisions that must be made, each is a creative act whether we name them so or not. These acts of creativity of the every day are the flesh and blood of life; yours, mine, ours, the world’s. The creative movement that gives life and breath to taking us out of one day and into the next, through our work, our play, our joys, sorrows, dreams and disappointments is the stuff of Creation. We would do well to remember this……and to honor the fullness of the coming full circle.

And then, rest.