Lord of the Sabbath

Luke 6:1-16

Hmmm.  Silly Pharisees.  So legalistic!  They just don’t get it.  Or at least so it seems, during these two exchanges with Jesus regarding the rules of keeping the Sabbath.  So then, it probably makes sense, then, to take a moment to consider: what is the Sabbath?

You may remember that after Moses led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt (1300 years BC), they arrived at the Lord’s mountain, Mt Sinai, and God gave Moses these stone tablets upon which were written the Ten Commandments.  These were rules that God gave to God’s people, that the people might successfully live in relationship with God, and with one another.  And the commandments reflect that: the first few commandments are concerned with one’s relationship with God, the remaining commandments are concerned with one’s neighbor.

The third commandment kind of works like a transition between the two, and it reads thus: “Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy.  Six days you shall labor and do your work, but the seventh is a Sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work…”  So, on the one hand, the Sabbath day is the Lord’s day—the text goes on to talk about the six days of creation, and such—and so it is to be a day of rest and of worship.

But the text also goes on to say this: after it says “you shall not do any work,” it then adds, “you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns.”  So, two things about this: first, that this commandment was not a “rule” for these former slaves who had known nothing but long days of labor, seven days a week—it was a huge gift: a command to rest!  And second, that this commandment had social justice built in, because not only were you to take a day of rest each week, but you were also commanded to give a day of rest to your children, and your slaves or servants, and immigrants.  So this commandment was both about our relationship with God, but also about our relationships with our neighbors (specifically, those over whom we might have authority).

Now here’s an interesting thing about the Sabbath: remember that these commandments are part of a covenant which God initiates with these people that were brought out of Egypt.  Now in that earlier covenant with Abraham, the mark of the covenant, which set the people apart, was circumcision.  And though that marker still continues, this new covenant bears with it a new marker: the Sabbath becomes a sign of the covenant, and the people identify with this marker of keeping Sabbath.

So fast forward to the time just before Jesus, a time in which it was, for a little while, against Roman law to keep the Sabbath.  So, probably somewhere within maybe 50-80 years before Jesus begins his ministry, that prohibition is lifted, and the Pharisees—who are themselves a reform movement that seeks to advance a form of Judaism that goes beyond the Temple and is incorporated into the daily lives of faithful Jews so that the Jewish identity wouldn’t be absorbed into surrounding culture—these Pharisees desire that this significant marker and identifier of Sabbath-keeping not be lost, that it be observed (especially since it was illegal in recent history).

Which brings us (at last) to these two exchanges between the Pharisees and Jesus, centering on the interpretation of Sabbath.  Now the first encounter is somewhat straightforward: the Pharisees object to Jesus disciple doing the work of picking grain on the Sabbath, but Jesus uses a scriptural precedent to point out that feeding hungry people is more important than even the strictest of rules.

The second encounter, however, is a little more complicated.  Certainly Jesus’ argument for doing good, and especially for saving life, would be one with which most other rabbis of his day would have agreed: you don’t wait to provide healing to one who is gravely ill just because it is the Sabbath.  However, here’s the complicating factor: the fellow whom Jesus cures is certainly not gravely ill—his withered hand has probably been that way awhile, and could probably wait one more day—there is no urgency.  So then, we can only describe Jesus’ action as provocative: he is trying to make a point.

Thus, it is probably not fair to characterize the Pharisees as “silly” or as “legalistic” and unable to “get it”, as I suggested at the beginning.  It’s probably safe to say that Jesus was in favor of keeping the Sabbath, and probably even with the concern for holding onto this identifying marker.  However, Jesus takes it and radicalizes it—Jesus wants us to understand what is central about the Sabbath, what is the essence of the Sabbath, and that is that, ultimately, the essence of Sabbath is the giving of life.  So really, we might say that the Pharisees, in their desire to incorporate Jewish laws into people’s daily lives, and to thereby help recover and maintain an identity, that they had perhaps just lost sight of the deeper meaning—that God’s commandments are meant to be, in all instances, life-giving.

And not only does Jesus unapologetically remind them of that, but then he also makes the claim: the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath—that he himself is the embodiment or the enacting of the Sabbath, that he, himself, is life-giving, and perhaps the place where we might find rest and restoration.

So, how does this speak to 21^st Century life?  It certainly doesn’t seem easy to keep the Sabbath today.  Our culture seems insistent upon the idea that our lives depend on working harder, doing more, accomplishing an extra thing.  So let me leave you with these questions, for which there aren’t easy answers, and with which we might wrestle:  Might keeping Sabbath be seen as an exercise in trust: trusting, ultimately, that my life depends on God, and not on working harder?  And: what would it look like to keep the Sabbath, if we understand it to be nothing short of a life-giving gift?