Sabbath

Limitless Compassion

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Limitless Compassion” Luke 13:10-17

Jimmy has spent most of his life feeling invisible. Born with developmental disability and a host of physical issues, he spent most of his childhood in foster care. He attended school, riding in a special bus and learning in special classrooms. Other kids called him names: retard, freak, spazz, dumbo. Nowadays, Jimmy is largely ignored as he stands outside his group home to watch the cars drive past. Eyes look past him as if he isn’t even there.

Heather feels invisible. Every day at lunch she sits in the corner of the cafeteria by herself. She wears outdated hand-me-downs and packs her lunch in a re-used brown paper bag. In gym class, no one picks her for their team. When it’s time for group projects, no one wants to work with her. She sees cliques of friends laughing in the hallways and wishes she were part of that. Eyes look past or around her as if she isn’t even there.

Bert and Jean feel invisible. They had been retired for a number of years when the pandemic forced them to also step back from their civic commitments. Their phone used to ring off the hook. But now, not so much. Many of their friends have passed on. Their kids and grandkids are just so busy. Some weeks, the Meals on Wheels driver is their only conversation partner. They don’t get out much, but when they do, eyes look past or around them as if they aren’t even there.

The world is filled with neighbors who feel alienated, invisible, and alone. You might think that would awaken a mass wave of empathetic outreach, but it doesn’t. Social scientists say our disregard for vulnerable others is a psychological phenomenon known as “compassion collapse.” Dr. Caryl Cameron, director of the Empathy and Moral Psychology Lab at Penn State University, writes that “People tend to feel and act less compassionately for multiple suffering victims than for a single suffering victim…. Precisely when it seems to be needed the most, compassion is felt the least.”

There are reasons for that. We are finite beings with limited resources. We may feel that our action (or inaction) doesn’t make a difference, so we withdraw. Or, we sometimes don’t get involved to protect ourselves. In the face of widespread tragedy and need, it becomes crushing to take on the pain of others. We grow numb and feel powerless.

The bent over woman was invisible to her neighbors. She had felt alone and unseen for eighteen years. In the world of the first century, she was a marginalized person—someone who lived outside the community of the righteous because she was physically deformed, spirit-possessed, and a woman. Anyone who has ever had a bad back can imagine the terrible discomfort that she must have felt: muscle spasms; neck pain; difficulty in rising, standing, or walking; the inability to look up and out at the world around her. At some point in her long years of suffering, compassion collapse kicked in for her community. She stopped being a neighbor and simply become the “bent over woman.” She would not have been seated in church on the day that Jesus preached. Instead, she would have been excluded, waiting at the entrance, hoping that someone would see her and speak a kind word into her life of suffering.

Only one person in the synagogue saw the bent over woman. It was Jesus. As only Jesus could, he instantly knew her suffering and need, and his heart went out to her with a limitless compassion that stretched the bounds of what was socially and religiously acceptable in his day. Carolyn Sharp, who teaches Hebrew Bible at Yale, notes that what one could or couldn’t do on the sabbath day was hotly contested in the first century. In fact, the Mishnah Shabbat, a collection of rabbinic teachings, forbade 39 different kinds of labor on the sabbath: sowing fields, baking, building, traveling, and more. It did not forbid healing. In fact, rabbis generally agreed that in life threatening situations, it was acceptable to heal. The rabbis divided, though, over whether healing for non-critical conditions, like being bent over, was permitted.

That’s a long walk to say that Jesus saw the woman and chose to act in controversial, even scandalous, ways. First, he invited her into the sanctuary, into the community of the righteous—to the Moses Seat—where he had been teaching. Then, Jesus did something even more provocative. He laid his hands on her bent over back and raised her up straight, freeing her from the disability that had long held her in bondage. Jesus next concluded his sermon for the day with an interpretation of scripture that silenced the critics. If God would permit a farmer to unbind, water, and feed livestock on the sabbath day, then surely it was permitted to free a woman from the spirit that had long bound her. Jesus gave the bent over woman a proper name, “Daughter of Abraham,” a sister to all the worshipers that day.

The world is filled with invisible people. Like Jimmy, they live with disability. Like Heather, they are friendless school-aged kids. Like Bert and Jean, they are elderly and alone. They are the non-English speaking workers who clean our hotel rooms or pick our crops. They are the economically challenged neighbors who frequent the Food Pantry or collect the empty cans and bottles after rugby weekend. They’d like to be seen, but eyes look past or around them as if they aren’t even there.

Jesus’ scandalous actions in a crowded synagogue one sabbath morning call us to see our invisible neighbors, to welcome them into the heart of the community, to make a caring and healing difference in their lives. Thomas Merton wrote that compassion is the keen awareness of the interdependence of all things. We cannot find wholeness—shalom—apart from community, and communities cannot be whole until the outsider, the excluded, and the marginalized are welcomed, accepted, valued, and included. In a world where some characterize compassion and empathy as weakness, today’s teaching from Jesus is a bold contradiction and a call to action.

Of course, there’s only one problem: compassion collapse. In a world where need can be ubiquitous, our compassion can be overwhelmed. We say, what can one person do in the face of such large-scale pain? We grow numb. We close our eyes. People become invisible. What are we to do?

Peter W. Marty, editor of the Christian Century, says that he builds compassion for those who live in difficult circumstances through the simple practice of imagining what it’s like to walk in their shoes. He does this when he encounters people in daily life who perform jobs that he’s not sure he could manage or tolerate for even a day. Whether it’s an individual enduring dangerous work conditions, tedious assignments, a hostile environment, or depressingly low wages, Marty tries to picture trading his life for theirs. It quickly his alters perspective and shifts his assumptions about how easy or hard life can be for those who undertake hazardous or dispiriting work that often goes unnoticed, work for which we typically feel indifference.

Researchers David DeSteno and Daniel Lim have conducted research to learn how we can have more resilient compassion. Through a series of studies, Lim and DeSteno identified a few factors that enliven our compassion and enhance our capacity to act. It begins with the belief that small steps can make a difference. We can’t solve all the problems of the world, but we can make a simple difference in the life of someone who needs our encouragement and support. It also helps to remember our own experiences of adversity. Remembering our past challenges, suffering, or need motivates us to accompany others. Finally, our personal practice of prayer and meditation can help us to be present to those invisible neighbors. Taking the time to pray and reflect allows us to trust that our actions serve a holy purpose and God is with us. When we are clean out of compassion, we can borrow some of the limitless compassion of Jesus. The world may be filled with invisible people, but it doesn’t have to be. Jesus believes we can make a difference in the lives of those who feel that they are on the outside looking in, longing for care, connection, and community.  

This week, we’ll encounter them, those invisible neighbors. They’ll be sitting alone in Stewarts. They’ll be smoking outside their group home. They’ll be struggling to carry groceries to the car. They’ll fear they will miss that important doctor’s appointment because they don’t have a ride.

Let’s open our eyes and hearts. Take the time to see your invisible neighbor. Imagine what it’s like to walk in their shoes. Let’s remember our own experiences of adversity and isolation: that bitter break-up, the boss who bullied us, the health crisis we endured, the time we went broke. Let’s allow those suffering times to awaken our empathy for others and build our resolve to act. Undertake small compassionate acts and trust that they make a difference. Smile. Listen. Share a meal. Offer a ride. Bring someone to church. Finally, let’s ground our action in reflection and prayer. Remember Jesus, who healed a bent-over woman on the sabbath day and continues to long for the wholeness and redemption of our world.

Resources

Jared E. Alcantara. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 24, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-6

Jeannine K. Brown. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 22, 2010. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17

Ira Brent Driggers. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 25, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-4

Annelise Jolley. “The Paradox of Our Collapsing Compassion” in John Templeton Foundation News, Nov. 20,2024. Accessed online at https://www.templeton.org/news/the-paradox-of-our-collapsing-compassion

Peter W. Marty. “A Failure of Compassion” in The Christian Century, June 2024. Accessed online at https://www.christiancentury.org/first-words/failure-compassion

Carolyn J. Sharp. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 21, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-5

Luke 13:10-17

10 Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. 11 And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight. 12 When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” 13 When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. 14 But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the Sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured and not on the Sabbath day.” 15 But the Lord answered him and said, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger and lead it to water? 16 And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the Sabbath day?” 17 When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame, and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things being done by him.

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Heart Trouble

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Heart Trouble” Mark 2:23-3:6

Sunday mornings at the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church in Washington, DC can feel like a curious collision of reverent worship and human need. The church, just a couple of blocks from the White House, is in an area of the city with a burgeoning homeless population. The benches in the tiny triangle park outside the church are a favorite overnight sleeping spot. A mentally ill woman pushing a shopping cart inspects the trash for thrown away treasures. A down and out neighbor scrounges for cigarette butts on the sidewalk.

Before I went to seminary, when I was a young adult member of the church, I was often panhandled on my way into worship, “Sister, can you give a man a little help?” During worship, when the children and those feeling a little childlike were invited to the front of the sanctuary, there would always be at least one adult participant—Larry, a developmentally disabled man from a local residence who lived with mental illness. One Sunday, during Dr. Craig’s sermon, someone was snoring. It was loud—so loud that those of us in the pews spent the better part of the message craning our necks to see one of our homeless brothers, stretched out in a side pew. On another day, Dr. Craig told us that as he was locking up the church to head home, he fell, tripping over a homeless man who was sleeping in a corner of the doorway.

Churches are sacred places, built to glorify God with our worship and praise. Churches are serving places, where neighbors in need find “a little help.” Sometimes finding that right balance of worship and service can be tough.

Our reading from Mark’s gospel tells of two Sabbath controversies. First, Jesus was challenged by the Pharisees for the Sabbath day behavior of his disciples. As Jesus’s hungry friends walked through the fields, they plucked ears of barley, rolled them between their hands to remove the chaff, and ate the ripe grain. Next, Jesus was in the synagogue on the sabbath day when he noticed a man with a helpless, withered hand. Jesus provocatively asked his critics, “Is it lawful to do good on the sabbath?” Then, answering his own question, Jesus healed. The useless hand grew hale and able.

Jesus and the Pharisees clearly had a difference of opinion when it came to interpreting what scripture had to say about sabbath observance. We tend to poke fun at the Pharisees, but Prof. Clif Black, who teaches at Princeton Seminary, reminds us that the Pharisees, a reform movement in first century Judaism, were well-regarded as upstanding and devout people. They were dedicated to “superlative” obedience to scripture in all walks of life. They liked things done decently and in order—that sounds downright Presbyterian.

The Pharisees had two problems with Jesus’s friends in the grain field. For one, they were traveling on the sabbath. For another, it was a slippery slope from gleaning to harvesting – if you let people glean on the sabbath, who knows what sort of work could happen next. And that man with the problem hand? More work. The man and Jesus should have had the good sense to wait until the sabbath was over to get their healing on. Jesus, with his disregard for their sabbath piety, put the whole community at risk. They needed to be holy as God is holy, and that meant their strict observance of the Torah.

Jesus disagreed. He looked at the big picture. Jesus considered God’s intent in instituting the sabbath as part of the rhythm of creation. God certainly didn’t need to rest after bringing the world into being, but humanity? We would need rest. In imparting the ten commandments, God mandated sabbath so that the people might be gratefully reoriented in God, might deepen their relationship with the one who created us—and deepen our connection to one another. What a radical gift for former slaves, who had never known the blessing of unfettered leisure! Sabbath should inspire our profound gratitude and reverence, yet it also helps and heals us. It promotes our wholeness. We might even say that on the sabbath day we are re-created.

“The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath,” Jesus taught. The choice to relieve someone’s hunger, the choice to end the suffering and disability of a neighbor, these beautiful, compassionate acts honored God’s original intent for the sabbath, every bit as much as the reverent worship of the Pharisees. Unfortunately, Jesus’s opponents were so invested in their own perspective that they could not hear Jesus or allow their hard hearts to be moved with compassion. Instead, only 79 verses into Mark’s gospel, Jesus’s adversaries began to conspire to discredit and silence him.

I am told that the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church struggled to find that right balance between sabbath day reverence and sabbath day service. In the early 80’s federal funding for mental health services saw big cuts, transferring responsibility for formerly institutionalized people to states that just weren’t ready.  The streets of cities like Washington soon teemed with folks who could not care for themselves. As the church’s triangle park became a de facto mini homeless settlement, they wondered, what do we do? Close the park? Work with law enforcement to encourage homeless neighbors to find someplace else to be on Sunday morning? Open up the church’s Lincoln Room for bagels and a gospel hymn sing?

The hymn sing won out, but still there was a weekly struggle to find enough volunteers to handle the loud, needy, and stinky mess that comes along with homeless neighbors. Members left the church. Those who stayed wondered if new people, who weren’t homeless, would ever come, would ever labor alongside them. They weren’t Pharisees, but they were Presbyterians with a longing for order and a good uninterrupted Sunday sermon. It wasn’t easy.

I think Jesus knew that faithful people would always live with this tension between our desire for holiness and the calling to meet the needs of our neighbors. That’s why his great command is an imperative to do both – love God and love neighbor. God is glorified by our overflowing love and heartfelt worship. Yet God is also glorified when we open our hearts and turn to the world with compassion, when we seek to make a helping, healing difference in the lives of those who need it most. We need both – worship and service. When we get it right, we are drawn ever deeper into the beauty of God and into the spirit of Jesus, who challenged his followers to see him in our neighbors who most need our love and care, every day of the week.

Sundays at this church aren’t quite like Sunday mornings in downtown Washington. I bet no one panhandled you on the way in. My old friend Larry doesn’t sit on the chancel with me for children’s time. While someone may fall asleep during the service, it won’t be because they spent last night sleeping on a subway grate. Yet we are mindful this morning of the need of our world. If you came in the side entrance, you saw the overflowing donation of paper goods for families that depend on Grace Pantry. You saw the pack basket that collects our Food Pantry gifts for hungry neighbors. You may have even noticed the learning stations in the sanctuary and Great Hall about the work of the Holm family to bring the gospel and sanitation to our Malawi neighbors. They may not be sleeping in the pews, but our vulnerable neighbors are with us this morning, and we can choose to make a helping difference. Today, we glorify God with our worship—and God will be glorified, too, as we love those who hunger and thirst for wholeness, good news, and good food.

If those Pharisees and Herodians had only wrapped their hearts around what Jesus was trying to teach them about the sabbath, they would have gotten blessed. So blessed! On that Sunday morning at the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church, when the homeless brother was snoring loudly through Dr. Craig’s sermon, the ushers in their blue blazers and ties marshalled forces in the narthex, devising a plan to wake the guy up. The very wise Dr. Craig stopped preaching and he waylaid their efforts. “Please, folks,” he said from the pulpit, “I’m sure it is the safest and warmest that the man has been all week.” As Dr. Craig’s words sank in, we realized that we had just heard the real sermon for that Sunday. We all thought about how truly blessed we were, to have homes and a church home, to have more than enough, to have people who love us, to have a wise pastor who called us to our better selves. It was one of those graced moments when we found the right balance between worship and service. It was one of those graced moments when we glimpsed Jesus, who told us he would come to us in our vulnerable neighbors. I can’t say for sure, but I suspect that God was, indeed, glorified.

Resources:

C. Clifton Black. “Commentary on Mark 2:23-3:6” in Preaching This Week, June 2, 2024. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 2:23—3:6 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Matt Skinner. “Commentary on Mark 2:23-3:6” in Preaching This Week, June 3, 2018. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 2:23—3:6 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

John Wilkinson. “Theological Perspective on Mark 3:1-6” in Feasting of the Gospels: Mark. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

William R. Herzog II. “Homiletical Perspective on Mark 3:1-6” in Feasting of the Gospels: Mark. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Mark 2:23—3:6

23One sabbath he was going through the grainfields; and as they made their way his disciples began to pluck heads of grain. 24The Pharisees said to him, “Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the sabbath?” 25And he said to them, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food? 26He entered the house of God, when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions.” 27Then he said to them, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; 28so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.”

3Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there who had a withered hand. 2They watched him to see whether he would cure him on the sabbath, so that they might accuse him. 3And he said to the man who had the withered hand, “Come forward.” 4Then he said to them, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent. 5He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored. 6The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.

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“Come Away”

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — Genesis 2:1-3 and Mark 6:30-34

This message was shared at the Island Chapel, an ecumenical summer church on an island in Upper Saranac Lake.

Is anyone here on vacation today?  Is anyone retired, in that delightful, ongoing state of quasi-vacation?  Does anyone wish they were on vacation this morning?  We can all affirm the goodness of coming away to a quiet place to rest and renew.

When it comes to vacation destinations, the Adirondacks are about as good as it gets.  We love the cool evenings when the magic carpet of the Milky Way stretches across the night sky and the sleeping is good.  We delight in the clear waters, whether we take a skinny-dip, test our favorite fishing hole, or explore the back country in the kayak.  We rejoice in the mountains: the thrill of downhill skiing, the accomplishment of climbing the 46, the alpenglow of summits set ablaze by the last rays of the setting sun.

I have read that the American use of the word “vacation” derives from the Adirondacks.  The English go “on holiday,” but here in the states we “take vacations.”  In the 19th century, residents of New York City and Boston vacated their hot, urban homes for the cool splendor of the Adirondacks.  All that vacating coined the term vacation.  Take a look out the window.  Apart from the rain, it doesn’t get much better than this.

In our reading from Mark’s gospel, the disciples could have used an Adirondack getaway.  Jesus had entrusted them with his power and authority.  Then, he had sent them out in pairs, with meager resources, to minister to the villages of the Galilean countryside.  Their mission had been even more successful than their best hopes.  As they returned to Jesus, they told stories of sermons preached and prayers shared.  They talked about miracles worked.  The lame had walked.  Blind eyes had found sight.  Those troubled by oppressive spirits had found peace.  There was great rejoicing.

Yet as Jesus listened to his friends, he saw the need for rest.  They had been going flat-out for weeks now.  Their voices were shot.  They were sleep deprived.  They were beginning to get on one another’s nerves.  They couldn’t concentrate, and they weren’t making good decisions.  The crowds pursued them.  Longing for wholeness and healing, everyone wanted time with Jesus and his friends.  It was so frantic that they couldn’t eat or attend to their bodies or hear themselves think.

Jesus knew exactly what was needed.  He stopped his friends mid-story and said, “Come away with me to a quiet place and rest awhile.”  Then, Jesus stood up and invited them to follow him.  They walked down to the breakwater, climbed into the boat, cast off, and hoisted the sail.

We are all familiar with the toll that overwork and chronic busyness can take.  Science tells us that it effects our bodies.  Our stress level rises, increasing our heartrate and blood pressure.  Our bodies are flooded with the stress hormone cortisol which makes us ready to fight or flee and piles on the belly flat.  We are at increased risk for heart attack, diabetes, and stroke.  Our brains don’t work as well when we are work-weary and stressed out.  It’s hard to focus.  Our creativity and resourcefulness plummet.  It becomes difficult to make wise choices.  Our feelings can be on edge.  We are more likely to suffer from anxiety or depression.  It’s easy to cry or lose our cool and blow up.  Does any of this sound familiar?

To be whole and healthy people, we need vacation; we need rest.  In fact, time set apart, free from work, is an essential part of God’s plan for creation.  It’s right there in Genesis, in the foundational story of Judaism and Christianity.  God spent six days creating everything.  God launched the Big Bang and coalesced the stars and planets, shaped the continents and gathered the seas.  God coaxed life out of the raw material of God’s very self, jellyfish and blackflies, elephants, octopi, and corgis.  God brought humankind into being with the awareness of God and the task of caring for creation.  Then, as the crowning achievement of creation, God chose to rest, not because God was weary—we are talking about God here—but because it was right and fitting to have a day set apart to savor and delight and be.

This keeping of sabbath is echoed in the fourth commandment, “Remember the sabbath day—to keep it holy.”  Our sabbath rest honors God’s work in creation.  It reorients us and reminds us who is really the boss.  For Christians, our sabbath days and sabbatical times remind us that God creates and re-creates us.  The sabbath is the day of resurrection, a celebration of the new life we find in Jesus, who called himself the Lord of the Sabbath.  Bible scholar Walter Brueggemann teaches that when we enter into this intentional practice of observing sabbath and taking rest, we choose to participate in the tranquility of God.  We return to the foundational rhythm that God ordained in the structure of creation.  We live into the image of God in which we were made.

The science supports the scripture.  Times of rest restore us and make us healthier people.  All those critical numbers that shoot up with work-stress fall with rest.  Blood pressure, heart rate, cortisone levels, all drop.  Our brains function better.  In fact, the spontaneous activity of a rested brain can suddenly solve problems that we thought were impossible.  Our ability to concentrate is renewed.  Even our emotional health finds healing and new possibility.  Dr. Sarah Mednick, in her TED Talk “Give it Up for the Down State” says that the GDP would grow, businesses would thrive, and workers would be happier, healthier, and more productive if we incorporated more sabbath rest into our lives.  An ideal work week would feature an intense Monday-Tuesday, a Wednesday half-day with an afternoon of rest, and a busy Thursday-Friday, followed by weekend downtime.  Sign me up!

Finding time for a weekly day of sabbath or an afternoon of rest or a weeklong vacation isn’t always easy.  We think we are indispensable.  If we don’t do the work, who will?  We aren’t crazy about giving up control.  We find it hard to walk away.  In fact, most Americans do not take the vacation time that they are allotted.  I suspect that when Jesus called the disciples to come away, there were some foot-draggers.  They looked back, wishing they could heal one more leper.  They were afraid they would lose the direction of that killer sermon they were planning to preach.  But when we refuse to rest, we deny the sovereignty of God, we reject the example set for us in creation, and we do our world a disservice as our gifts are dimmed and diminished by the fatigue and impairment that come with stress and overwork.

I hope I have made my case about the importance of rest.  I also hope that your sabbath time includes some intentional God-time.  Sing a song of rejoicing for the lotus that rises from the mucky lake bottom to bless your paddle.  Take Jesus along on your trail walk.  Tell him all your troubles and thank him for sabbath.  Commune with God on the mountaintop, savoring the mystery and magic of the world spread out at your feet.  Go to church.  Every vacation, every rest, every time apart is an opportunity to be re-created in the hands of the ultimate Creator.

As I close, I’d like to return to Mark’s gospel.  The way Mark tells it, it doesn’t sound like the disciples got much rest.  They got in the boat.  They crossed over.  They found crowds of hurting people waiting on the other side.  But I did a little research.  If you have a favorable wind, sailing from Capernaum to the Gentile coast of the Decapolis takes a good six hours, longer if the winds are variable, longer still if you have calm.  That means the disciples had a whole day of sailing with Jesus.  How good would that be?  They soaked in the quiet.  They allowed the horizon to delight their eyes.  Peter relaxed at the tiller and allowed his mind to roam.  James and John stopped bickering.  Andrew threw in a line and caught dinner for everyone.  They all began to breathe with the rhythm of the breeze and the waves.  At some point they realized that it wasn’t just Jesus in the boat with them.  At one point, they knew that they were somehow sailing on, with, and into God.  Someone sang a doxology of rejoicing, thankful for the wholeness that is found when we come away and rest awhile with the Lord.  Amen.

Resources:

Thompson, Marjorie.  Soul Feast: An Invitation to the Spiritual Life. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1995.

Bryant, Robert A. “Exegetical Perspective on Mark 6:30-34, 53-56” in Feasting on the Word, Year B, vol. 3. Louisville: John Knox Press, 2009.

Hasel, Gerhard. “Sabbath” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary. New York: Doubleday, 1992.

Cherry, Heather. “The Benefits of Resting and How to Unplug in a Busy World” in Forbes Magazine, Jan. 15, 2021.  Accessed online at Forbes.com.

Mednick, Sara. “Give It Up for the Down State” in TEDx Talks, June 4, 2013.

Pyramid Lake Wilderness