High Holy Days Sermons 5783

SUSTAINING REST WORKS

By Rabbi Sarah Rosenbaum Jones

Wednesday, October 5, 2022

 

I invite you to take a moment to close your eyes–yes, a rabbi is telling you to close your eyes at the beginning of a sermon…but just for a moment! Take a moment to think about what you did during your last lunch break. 

Did you sit down to eat? 

Did you run an errand or go for a walk?

Did you eat while working? 

How did this lunchtime choice impact the rest of your day?

 

On a recent episode of one of my favorite podcasts, the Sporkful, we meet an American English professor named Kaitlyn who lives in Northeastern France. The episode opens with a vignette of Kaitlyn…breaking the law. 

 

Kaitlyn shares: “I have a workplace cultural challenge, which is currently, I'm sitting in my office hiding ... because it's lunchtime. At lunchtime in France, people generally take an hour and a half or two hours and eat and try not to talk about work. But I come from the U.S., and I love a productive lunch,” she laughs. “There's even a law in France that forbids workers from eating at their desk.” she laughs again.

 

The episode continues by detailing the intentions, history, and implications of France's strange lunchtime law. While Kaitlyn sees how the law is great for workplace collaboration and productivity, she still wants the liberty of choosing whether or not to have lunch at her desk.

 

The podcast episode about France’s desk lunch law highlights a condition of the country we live in: Taking a break is countercultural. Today, productivity means longer hours. Technology is both beautiful and burdensome–beautiful because it connects us to people and ideas around the globe, but burdensome because we are attached to it 24/7. When we do finally take a break, we often spend it scrolling through social media or watching a show online. And we find ourselves doing this often, because we are tired. Tired from two and a half years navigating a global pandemic. Tired because we are now expected to return to “normal life,” even though such a world fails to exist. Tired from trying to protect ourselves and our loved ones, in a world where weapons can upend our communities in mere moments. We are tired. But we have so much work to do.

 

In Alex Soojung-Kim Pang’s book Rest, he rejects the notion that rest and work exist in a dichotomy. Rather, he asserts that rest and work are partners. And rest is not a passive activity like scrolling through Facebook…as much as some of us feel like it’s an Olympic Sport these days! Pang uses the phrase “deliberate rest” to describe the need to be intentional about creating time for activities that stimulate us. He touts the benefits of exercise and of “deep play,” hobbies that feel immersive to the person doing them. Yes, he is even pro-naps, one of the BEST ways to stimulate your creative brain, scientists say!

 

It’s noteworthy that Pang doesn’t once mention religion in his book because his thesis is so very…JEWISH! Jewish tradition, like Pang, has so much to say about the ideal work-rest partnership. 

 

Jewish sources often stress the value of good work. We were put on earth to engage in tikkun olam, repair of the world. We are called upon to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick, free the captive, pursue justice, and the list goes on. These tasks are no small feat! You may be thinking: in Judaism, there’s no rest for the weary! But we aren’t expected to do it all at this very moment; Judaism is all about the long game. 

 

From Pirke Avot, the wisdom of our ancestors, we learn: 

 

לֹא עָלֶיךָ הַמְּלָאכָה לִגְמֹר וְלֹא אַתָּה בֶן חוֹרִין לְהִבָּטֵל מִמֶּנָּה.

 

“It is not on you to finish the work, but you are not free to desist from it.”

 

This perek asks: What is the work that will sustain us in the future? What is the work that will make our world better for future generations? And what can be done in the here and now to make this a reality?

 

For me, so much of that sustaining work happens right here in our synagogue and in Jewish organizations around the world. I care deeply about giving Jews of all ages opportunities to find meaning in their lives through Jewish ritual and wisdom. I believe that creating strong Jewish communities will ultimately create a world in which more people care about the dignity and well-being of others, and will work to create systems that demonstrate these fundamental human rights. In the past few years, the work of advocating for reproductive rights and access to medical care for people of all races and socioeconomic statuses has also hit home for me in particularly poignant ways. In truth, I often feel consumed by the MAGNITUDE of the work that needs to be done, that I can and should be doing during my time on earth.

 

What is the work that gets you out of bed every day? What makes you tick? 

 

Of course, tikkun olam, repair of the earth, cannot stand alone without tikkun atzmi, repair of the self. Work and rest are not a dichotomy, they are a partnership. What is the quintessential Jewish ideal of rest, and of tikkun atzmi? You guessed it: Shabbat. 

 

Strangely enough, our tradition has a lot to say about what not to do on Shabbat. Thirty-nine categories of work, Avot M’lachot, to be specific! Writing, building, kindling a fire…you get the idea. Tradition teaches us an awful lot about what good rest doesn’t look like, but we have to delve into more modern sources to learn about what good Jewish rest does look like. 

 

First, I invite you to take another moment and think of a day in your life that left you feeling rejuvenated, connected to others, and joyful. 

With whom did you spend that day? 

What did you do…or not do on that day? 

Take a deep breath in–what scents did you take in that day? What sounds did you hear? 

What were the tangible elements of the day, things that you felt with your body or held with your hands? 

What was intangible from that day– the feelings you experienced, the memories you created? 

 

In her introduction to Abraham Joshua Heschel’s foundational book, The Sabbath, his daughter Susannah Heschel, a Jewish philosopher as well, describes what Shabbat was like in the Heschel home during her childhood. The tangible elements: the Shabbat candles, soft challah from a local bakery, Golden delicious apples for dessert. Even though her mother was “not an enthusiastic cook,” the Shabbat meal was special and relaxed. On Shabbat day, after they attended services, there were long walks, visitors, and, of course, naps. They had guests for a special high tea in the afternoon, a certain treat in their home. Most important to the Heschel family were the intangible elements of Shabbat: Conversation focused on big ideas. They learned, joked, and left aside any topics that could cause strife to the family or guests, despite being pleased with debate the rest of the week. 

 

In my family, our Shabbat practice breaks nearly every one of the 39 Avot M’lachot, the 39 acts of labor that our medieval rabbis forbade on Shabbat. In our home of two busy working professionals and a precocious 3-year-old, Shabbat holiness looks like eggs and milk strewn across the kitchen island, challah french toast, drives to the city for playdates with friends, take-out pizza, and, of course, attempts at Shabbat afternoon naps, good Shabbat practice for toddlers and especially good for their expectant mothers.

 

The wonderful day you imagined a few minutes ago might not look quite like the Heschel family Shabbat, or like my family’s Shabbat, but it likely contained many of the same elements: quality time with people you love, activities that bring you joy and fulfillment, time to step into the holy and leave the mundane behind. 

 

When was the last time you allowed yourself to experience a day like this? 

 

We desperately need holy time. We don’t need Judaism to tell us that we are overworked and over committed. It is clear from the brokenness in our families, communities, and world. We need connection. We need to show ourselves that we matter, and we need to show the people we love that they matter, by setting aside a “palace in time” to just…be together. Only when we allow ourselves time for tikkun atzmi will we be able to accomplish our greater goals of tikkun olam, repair of the world. Rest and work do not exist in a dichotomy; they must be partners.            

 

We are here today, on Yom Kippur, a day that has the potential to throw the entire thesis of this sermon out the window. And that’s because Yom Kippur is a day of both work and rest. We are instructed at least five times in the Torah to treat Yom Kippur as a “Shabbat Shabbaton,” The Shabbat of all Shabbats! Medieval philosopher Ibn Ezra teaches that the doubling of a biblical word is intended to put emphasis on the initial word. So, “Shabbat Shabbaton” means something to the effect of… “you should REALLY Shabbat it up on Yom Kippur!” In other words, definitely don’t work, build, or mow the lawn. But, other laws of Yom Kippur put a wrench in this: We are also instructed to fast, which is very anti-Shabbat-y, and not to do pleasurable things like use perfume or have sex on Yom Kippur…things that Jewish tradition teaches that we should do on any normal Shabbat. And, let’s be honest, Yom Kippur is loads of work. Thinking about all of the ways we missed the mark. Taking deep accounting of our souls. Saying we’re sorry to those we’ve hurt. These are not easy tasks. 

 

So, what gives? Why is Yom Kippur a Shabbat Shabbaton, the Shabbatiest of Shabbats, but also very much restrictive in its laws, and honestly, a tough day.

 

It seems that our ancestors understood deeply the partnership between work and rest. They realized that, if we are to really focus on our soul-work, tikkun atzmi, for one day, we’ve got to step away from the mundanity of everyday life for twenty-four hours. To do Yom Kippur’s work in earnest, we have to take a Shabbat Shabbaton from the rest of our busy lives. We need to show up, focus, and get down to the business of spirituality, without the distractions of typical obligations. The work of Yom Kippur requires us to let go of everyday work.

 

What does this all mean for us, as 21st century Reform Jews? A central tenet of Reform Judaism is “choice through knowledge,” the ability to learn and think critically about our tradition, test out rituals and halacha, Jewish law, and act in ways that bring us to a more spiritual, ethical, and fulfilling place in our lives. Our questions become: 

 

How can I harness the intentions of our Jewish traditions around deliberate rest to enhance my life? 

How can I see work and rest as partners and to create an existence in which I can best care for myself, for others, and for our world?

 

As your Shabbat Shabbaton continues and we journey through the remaining High Holy Days together, I challenge you to think about one or two ways that you can bring deliberate rest into your life in the coming weeks, and consider how this rest can help you prioritize the work that will lead to a better future. Oh, and don’t forget….to take your lunch break…tomorrow!