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(A new writer for these pages. You may have heard of him before now. He comes to us with some writing experience, already. The following is taken from Max Lucado's book, "And The Angels Were Silent".)
Don't Just Do Something, Stand There!
Max Lucado
"Work and get everything done during six days each week, but the seventh day is a day of rest to honor the Lord your God." Exodus 20:9, 10
I took my daughter Andrea on a walk some time ago. She was four and curious, so we went to explore our neighborhood.
"Let's cover some new territory," I suggested.
Off we went, striding confidently out of the safe harbor of our cul-de-sac and stepping into unknown regions.
Captain Kirk would have been proud!
The area was brand new to her. We walked down streets she'd never seen and petted dogs she'd never touched. Virgin territory. Wilderness wanderings. The yards were different. The kids looked older. The houses looked bigger.
I thought all the change might trouble her. I thought the new sights and sounds might generate anxiety.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Sure."
"Do you know where we are?"
"No."
"Do you know how to get home?"
"No."
"And you aren't worried?"
Without slowing her pace she reached up and took my hand and said, "I don't have to know how to get home. You already do."
God once did with his children what I did with Andrea. He led them into a strange land. He marched them through a sea and guided them into unexplored territory.
They didn't know where they were. The desert was strange. The sounds were new and the scenery unfamiliar. But one thing was different: they weren't as trusting as Andrea.
"Take us back to Egypt," they demanded.
But the Father wanted his children to trust him. The Father wanted his children to take his hand and relax. The Father wanted his children to quit worrying about how and be content with who.
He liberated them from slavery and created a path through the sea. He gave them a cloud to follow in the day and a fire to see at night. And he gave them food. He met their most basic need: he filled their bellies.
Twice a day the manna came. Twice a day the quails appeared. "Trust me. Trust me and I will give you what you need."
The people were told to take just enough for one day. Their needs would be met, one day at a time. Despite God's faithfulness in keeping his promise, the people had a hard time believing their provision was the work of God. It went against their logic to see food and not hoard it.
"What if he forgets tomorrow? What if he doesn't come back?"
So they would take more than one day's share of food. Overnight the food would spoil.
"Just take enough for today," was God's message. "Let me worry about tomorrow."
The Father wanted the people to trust him.
On Friday they were told to collect a two day's supply of food, for the next day was the Sabbath -- the day God set aside for humankind to meet their Creator. On the Sabbath the food collected from the day before would not spoil.
But on the Sabbath the people had a hard time sitting still. It went against common sense to pause and listen when they could get up and work. So, in spite of God's command they went out and gathered food.
(Funny how it is the weary who are most reluctant to rest.)
Note God's wisdom. We need one day in which work comes to a screeching halt. We need one twenty-four hour period in which the wheels stop grinding and the motor stops turning. We need to stop.
The Sabbath is the day that God's children in a foreign land squeeze their Father's hand and say, "I don't know where I am. I don't know how I'll get home. But you do and that's enough."
A couple of weeks ago Andrea and I went on another adventure -- this time on bicycles. She had just learned to keep her balance on a two-wheeler and was ready to leave the safety of the front street and try the hill behind our house. She'd never ridden down a hill before.
We sat atop the descent and looked down it. To her it was Everest. "You sure you want to try?" I asked.
"I think so," she gulped.
"Just put on your brakes when you want to stop. Don't forget your brakes."
"Okay."
I rode to the midway point and waited. Down she came. The bike began to pick up speed. The handlebars began to shake. Her eyes got big. Her pedals moved in a blur. As she raced past she screamed, "I can't remember how to stop pedaling!"
She crashed into the curb.
If you don't know how to stop, the result can be painful. True on bikes. True in life.
Do you remember how to stop?
Ever feel like you're racing downhill on a runaway bike and you don't remember how to brake? Ever feel the wheels of your life racing faster and faster as you speed past the people you love? Could you use a reminder on how to slow it all down?
If so, read what Jesus did during the last Sabbath of his life. Start in the Gospel of Matthew. Didn't find anything? Try Mark. Read what Mark recorded about the way Jesus spent the Sabbath. Nothing there either? Strange. What about Luke? What does Luke say? Not a reference to the day? Not a word about it? Well, try John. Surely John mentions the Sabbath. He doesn't? No reference? Hmmmm. Looks like Jesus was quiet that day.
"Wait a minute. That's it?" That's it.
"You mean with one week left to live, Jesus observed the Sabbath?" As far as we can tell.
"You mean with all those apostles to train and people to teach, he took a day to rest and worship?" Apparently so.
"You're telling me that Jesus thought worship was more important than work?" That's exactly what I'm telling you.
For such is the purpose of the Sabbath. And such was the practice of Jesus. "On the Sabbath day he went to the synagogue, as he always did, and stood up to read." Should we do any less?
If Jesus found time in the midst of a racing agenda to stop the rush and sit in the silence, do you think we could, too?
Ahh, I know what you're thinking. I can see it in your face. There you are. Looking at me from my monitor with dubious eyes and furrowed brows. "But, Max, Sunday is the only day I have to get caught up at the office." Or, "Good idea, Max, but have you heard our preacher? He provides the rest all right -- I fall asleep! But the worship?"
Or, "That's easy for you to say, Max. You're a preacher. If you were a housewife like me and had four kinds like mine . . ."
It's not easy to slow down.
It's almost as if activity is a sign of maturity. After all, isn't there a beatitude which reads, "Blessed are the busy?"
No, there isn't. But there is a verse which summarizes many lives: "Man is a mere phantom as he goes to and for: He bustles about, but only in vain; he heaps up wealth, not knowing who will get it."
Does that sound like your life? Are you so seldom in one place that your friends regard you as a phantom? Are you so constantly on the move that your family is beginning to question your existence? Do you take pride in your frenzy at the expense of your faith?
Are Andrea's words yours? "I don't remember how to stop." If so, you are headed for a crash.
Slow down. If God commanded it, you need it. If Jesus modeled it, you need it. God still provides the manna. Trust him. Take a day to say no to work and yes to worship.
One final thought.
One of the reference points of London is the Charing Cross. It is near the geographical center of the city and serves as a navigational tool for those confused by the streets.
A little girl was lost in the great city. A policeman found her. Between sobs and tears, she explained she didn't know her way home. He asked her if she knew her address. She didn't. He asked her phone number; she didn't know that either. But when he asked her what she knew, suddenly her face lit up.
"I know the Cross," she said, "Show me the Cross and I can find my way home from there."
So can you. Keep a clear vision of the cross on your horizon and you can find your way home. Such is the purpose of your day of rest: to relax your body, but more importantly to restore your vision. A day in which you get your bearings so you can find your way home.
Do yourself a favor. Reach up and take your father's hand and say what Andrea said to me, "I'm not sure where I am. I'm not sure which is the road home. But you do and that's enough."
Note: This material is copyrighted in the work cited. All rights are reserved by the Copyright holder.
