A Sabbathy Easter Weekend

Our book club just finished Eugene Peterson's Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places. I had read it years ago, but though I often prefer thinking things through on my own (it's nice and quiet in my head and no one calls on me unexpectedly), I gained tremendously by going through this book with friends.

Peterson prefaces a section on the ten commandments with this:

And if we are going to live in community, dealing with the men and women whom we look at and see every live-long day has to be faced head-on. This may not be as obvious as it appears, for there is nothing more common among us than turning the people among whom we live into abstractions, lumping them into categories, idealizing or demonizing them, dealing with them impersonally as principles or projects.

In Peterson's comments on the fourth commandment, sabbath-keeping, he points out that the Exodus reason for sabbath-keeping was that we keep it because God did. As God rested on the seventh day, we get back in stop with the creation rhythms of work and rest. Then he says:

In Deuteronomy we are told that keeping sabbath is a matter of simple justice; it prevents the stronger from exploiting the weaker, whether parents over children, employers over workers, even masters over horses and mules. Everyone is given a day to recover the simple dignity of being himself, herself, in the community without regard to use or function or status. Even dogs and cats are included.

In our discussion, my friend Angie talked about how they try to observe sabbath as a family--to have a time where chores and homework and clean-up pause and she and Joe and the kids can just be, without usefulness or productivity.

We are entering a busy time. May is a busy month anyway as school seems to wind up before winding down. In the next six or seven weeks, Justin will be full-on busy with soccer and band and school. He has some kind of rehearsal or practice four nights a week and one or two games every weekend. Anna will have rehearsals for the 5th grade play. Scott will be away for two weeks as well, adding to the general mayhem.

So, a church retreat over Easter weekend in Michigan was a perfect way to get away and and breathe and, well, just be.

Some people flew kites...

Idyllic weather

Kids buried each other in the sand...

Anna has ALWAYS loved the sand. It's her happy place.

We karaoke'd...(don't tell Justin I put this up--he never reads the blog, so he'll never know...unless you tell him)...

We shared meals and worship times, scavenger hunts and bonfires; we played basketball and volleyball and card games; we had long conversations and walks.  And on  Easter morning, we worshiped together before parting ways. I imagine that I'm not the only one who took a Sunday afternoon nap when we got home.

I'm thankful for this warm, welcoming community and for the rest and refreshment that were ours together this weekend.

Oh, and Harris Easter Basket Hunt report--We did it in the evening. Here's Anna hunting for a clue in her tree (yes, it's her tree).

Just so you know, we didn't hide it way up in the tree. She could have found it with her feet on the ground. She just enjoys the climb.

W.E.B. Dubois

I’m taking part in a book club at our Reclamation Project office on Thursday nights. We’re making our way through W.E.B. Dubois’ The Souls of Black Folk. It’s challenging reading. I often have to slow down and reread passages, and some of the references to Greek mythology are lost on me.

The book was published in 1903, and he writes that, "The problem of the Twentieth Century is the problem of the color-line." 

I’ve learned a great deal from the book about the reconstruction period after the Civil War, information that I last read a couple of pages about in high school. Back then, the War was usually the focus of study, and a little information about carpet baggers is all I remember of the aftermath.

After my reading this week, I wonder…

If only there had been another way for slavery to come to an end. War left the South poor and hostile to the newly freed.

If only there could have been some effort at reconciliation like South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission after the end of apartheid.

If only long-term measures could have been put into place for help and support and infrastructure.

If only those freed had been given something to start out with—40 acres, a mule, and maybe even an apology. It would have been so very little.

I wonder the same thing about other groups who endure long-term oppression. We expect instant turnaround and success when the oppression stops, when in reality, the scars are long-lasting, and sometimes passed down through the generations. It was true of Irish immigrants fleeing persecution and famine in the 1800s and the Congolese who survived King Leopold’s brutal reign in the 1900s. It was true of those rescued from concentration camps. It is true of the oppressed in Syria, Central African Republic, North Korea and it is true for the young girl rescued from sex-trafficking.

So today I pray for for the oppressed and those coming out from under oppression. Whether the action of lending a hand is on the part of governments, churches, non-profits, or individuals, may it be wise and long-term and lead to wholeness of individuals and communities.