Wonderstruck by Margaret Feinberg Page A

demands. The Sabbath provides the space we need to recognize the false gods that slip into our lives when we’re distracted. This holy day gives us the opportunity to remove them and recalibrate our lives to God.
    The Sabbath roots us in God’s love for us and for all of creation. In Exodus 20:10, Moses describes the Sabbath as a day when everyone, including our family, friends, employees, and guests—even our animals—should cease from work. In essence, the blessing and sanctity of the day should overflow to everyone we know, everything we touch. Behind the command is the ferocious love of God that reminds us we were nevermeant for slavery or exploitation. Simply put: in the process of honoring the Sabbath, we learn to treat people better. We have the opportunity to celebrate their work and rest and play and spiritual growth—not just our own.
    Moses notes that the Sabbath finds its roots in Genesis—the story of creation where God is revealed as one who celebrates the good, the
tov
, of creation with a rhythm as natural as exhaling. With each passing day, the heavens and earth splash to life until the sixth day, when God declares the forming of humanity as
tov me’od
, or abundantly good. The work of creation is a good and purposeful work performed by a good and purposeful God.
    Of all the days, perhaps the seventh is the most eloquent and insightful as to the nature of God. From a literary perspective, the Sabbath forms the pinnacle of the story. Like the dramatic kiss of a soldier returning from war, this is the moment we’re not meant to miss. In choosing rest as the grand finale, God reveals himself as one driven by neither anxiety nor fear but one who finds gladness in both the work of creation and the creation of work.
    On the Sabbath, the world rests firmly in the palms of God. Neither the stars nor the birds fall from the sky. But unlike the other days of creation, the entry is missing the closing refrain, “And there was evening and there was morning the [insert the numeral] day.” 1 All other days close with the same chorus, except the seventh. Why? Maybe because God is inviting us to enter rest and reminding us that the invitation has no expiration date.
    This scriptural detail is a source of great comfort, because it means that no matter how many times we reduce the Sabbath to nothing more than an hour of church or five minutes of shuteye or another long day of hard work or play, the invitation to enter the rest of God has no end. The Sabbath is a sanctuary in time with doors that remain wide open—even for the bankrupt like me.
    If we choose to enter, we may find ourselves partaking of the very sustenance of God.

    During the first few weeks of remembering the Sabbath, I reminded myself of this truth as I struggled to break old habits. Innocently popping online to research a recipe or factoid, I’d get lost in hours of work e-mails. Opening a book for leisure, I’d end up outlining a possible magazine article for work. Even during an afternoon with friends, the conversation circled back to work. Celebrating the wonder of rest on the Sabbath turned out to be more difficult than I imagined. But also filled with rich rewards.
    A Jewish philosopher once made the keen observation that the Sabbath isn’t for the sake of the other days of the week, but the other days of the week are for the sake of the Sabbath. This great day isn’t an interlude but the climax of living. 2 Through the Sabbath, God asks us to slow down so we once again becomeawestruck by the goodness of God in our lives, relationships, and world. The Sabbath provides the opportunity to nurture our appreciation for the beauty of creation, the deliciousness of provision, the joy of celebration. In a single day, God gives us the opportunity to recapture the wonder of everyday life.
    A full day of rest forced me to develop a hybrid of passive and active events that are truly life giving:
    A late morning walk.
    A handful of scriptures for