Sabbath rest. Who knew?

In the summer of 2021, Israel slightly loosened their tight Covid restrictions and allowed for certain groups of tourists to visit. As one whose blood shares in the ancestry of the Israeli people, my friend and I were in one of those lucky groups.

We drove up to Los Angeles from San Diego to catch a 6 a.m. flight on a Sunday. After a fifteen-hour direct flight, I would finally set foot on a land that some call promised, with which I had no association other than DNA.

For the next six days of a ten-day trip, I would come to experience this country as a bustling city with historically-rich towns and charming villages. From kibbutz to camel, I followed a packed schedule that was sure to guarantee my ten-thousand steps a day.

By Thursday, I made my way from northern Israel with its slower way of life to Tel-Aviv, the famous, or infamous, party city. We had a great time enjoying the busyness of the city, the warm beaches, and the colorful nightlife. As we made plans for what was to be an exciting weekend, I was surprised when Friday night plans came to a screeching halt like someone suggesting Taco Bell for dinner. For the next 24 hours, this bustling country would turn into a quiet stillness.

I learned that this place, brimming with diversity and modern advancements, still honored and observed sabbath, a tradition dating over four thousand years old. Of course, my inquiring mind had to understand the origins and significance.

They began explaining that at the time, the people hearing this message, Israelite Jews, would have just been liberated from slavery in Egypt where they performed hard manual labor from dusk to dawn, seven days a week. For 430 years, they would have been told that their value and worth were tied to how many bricks they could produce. In fact, if they couldn't meet a quota, they were likely removed and therefore unable to provide for their families.

So, when they are finally freed and are learning to become their own people, the first thing they committed to learning and passing down from generation to generation was how to take a break. This break was, in some ways, the beginning of their community and would serve to remind them and all those that would come after, that their value and worth did not come from their production, but simply from who they are. Now, more than four thousand years later, they begin this tradition at sunset on Friday night and end Saturday at sunset as a reminder and symbol to begin and end...with rest.

But rest isn't just sleeping. Rest is community. Rest is learning to do the things you love. Rest is stillness. Rest is mindfulness and laughter, food and wine, friends and family. Rest in this way, for many, has to be learned.

This lesson and spiritual discipline resounded deep within me. As someone who is very much a slave to my production and who often ties my identity too heavily to what I do, I knew that this was something I could not forget.

As my trip came to an end in the beautiful city of Jerusalem four days later, I was so excited to practice my first "sabbath" once I returned home. Over the next few months, setting aside a full 24 hours of rest was a very real wrestle as so many things warred for my time. I would come to learn how difficult it was for me to be still. I realized that I wasn't really in touch with the things that brought me pure joy. I didn't know how to sit still with just me and my thoughts. And I didn't really believe that I was valuable just because. As crazy as it sounds, resting was difficult. I had to learn how to do it without the learning becoming another laborious task. I had to learn to forgive myself often.

As time went on and my schedule filled up, I practiced sabbath less and less. But I know it's something that my soul needs. And perhaps it's not a full 24-hour period, but maybe a little sabbath a day. A dedicated and intentional time to be still, to laugh, to breathe, to sleep, to eat, to be part of community, to journal, to do something that really sets my heart aflame.

That's why in 2022, I promise to learn how to rest like the ancients. So I can feel every bit of life as I live it and remember, I am not just my production.

Shalom