Three generations back
my family had only

to light a candle
and the world parted.

Today, Friday afternoon,
I disconnect clocks and phones.

When night fills my house
with passages,

I begin saving
my life.
~Marcia Falk

Last Sunday I began my morning as I usually do. After reading the paper, I sat down to watch CBS Sunday morning. I have come to think of this as my pre-church tailgating…coffee made, breakfast on a tray, settled into my comfy chair, I fill the 90 minutes before heading out for worship with this show filled with mostly feel good, inspiring stories. People doing good things for other people. Artists making art. Musicians making music. Kind words and some beautiful, colorful images of mandalas that offer an ‘amen’ at the end of every story. 

At some point of the show, my refreshments consumed, I picked up the needlework I had been working on the night before and began stitching. “You’ll have to pick those stitches out with your nose on Judgment Day.”, my Mother’s voice echoed in my head. This was something she would say if I began to sew on a Sunday. Sundays were not for sewing, or working in the yard, or going to the movies, or any other task that could be done on the other six days of the week. It was a message that came through loud and clear and while said with a certain tongue-in-cheek tone, it was not to be argued with.

That much-loved voice in my head, the voice that I don’t have the privilege to hear in real time anymore has stayed with me all week. I am sure my Mom did not literally believe this. And certainly, I don’t think the Creator of the Universe is much concerned with whether or not I move a needle through fabric on Sunday or any other day. But the intention behind her reprimand carries truth and wisdom: The importance of setting aside time for sabbath, for rest, renewal and honoring the Sacred keeps us in a balance that can move the world along in a gentler, more thoughtful way. In the pace of the world, when not only days but light and darkness gets blurred into one long opportunity for working harder and longer hours, the practice of sabbath…stopping, slowing down… calls to us from nearly all faith traditions and from a simple understanding of how to remain healthy. Even in retirement, I find myself packing days fuller than need be and to what end?

This all led me back to a gem of a book I have returned to over and over. Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal and Delight in Our Busy Lives by Wayne Muller. It is a classic and yet, as most classics do, it finds ways to offer new insights given the passage of time and all that has happened in life since it was last perused. I thumbed through looking at the places I had underlined(a character flaw I refuse to give up) and wondered what I had been living, thinking when those words grazed my mind. As I flipped through I came upon the chapter that discussed the lamentation of many as to the decline of morality and values. Muller argues that this all needs to be seen as both individual and communal. It is in our valuation of time and how we live it that the answer can be found: “All these ‘lost’ values are human qualities that require time. Honesty, courage, kindness, civility, wisdom, compassion-these can only be nourished in the soil of time and attention, and need experience and practice to come to harvest.” 

I like to believe that my Mother’s attention to setting aside the kind of time we did on Sundays was meant to sow the seeds of these ways of walking in the world…honesty, courage, kindness, civility, wisdom, compassion. And certainly as we look around our country and our world, these all seem to be on rocky ground, don’t they? I wonder what might happen if we gave more of any day to nurturing the soil of those seeds. What kind of harvest might we reap?

My Mother was full of all kinds of sayings that she sprinkled through the conversation of the day. Some were funny and have become the kinds of quips grandkids remember and we all cherish. Others were meant to shape my brothers and me and remind us of the stock from which we sprang. An all time favorite when one of us was upset or anxious about something we had little control over was “A hundred years from now you’ll never know the difference.” 

We may not, Mom. But if we can slow down and create time to nourish the best within us, we just might save not only ourselves but pave a path of peace and goodness for the generations to come.