Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Exodus 20:8

Several years ago, on one of our earlier pilgrimages to Israel, my wife had left our hotel room on Saturday morning to go down for breakfast.  When we got to the elevator, I remembered that I had left something in the room and went back to get it.  When I returned to the elevator, there was an Orthodox Jewish man, with side curls and tzitzit sticking out from under his shirt, speaking franticly to Sandy—in Russian (Sandy did not speak Russian. And neither do I, for that matter).  We finally realized that he wanted us to follow him to his hotel room. When he opened the door, there was a woman asleep in the bed and a crib nearby with a sleeping baby.  The man kept pointing to a lamp in the corner.  Maybe he doesn’t know how to turn it off, I thought, because the lamp had a foot switch on the floor. It finally occurred to me that he was asking us to turn the lamp off, because, as an Orthodox Jew, he could not operate a light switch on the Sabbath. So, I turned the light off, and he smiled and expressed his gratitude—in Russian—and we left.

Now, you might be thinking, “Why didn’t he just turn the light off himself? After all, no one was looking, and no one would know.” To answer that question, we need to look into the mindset of the observant Jew. To them, “keeping Shabbat” is a matter of keeping the Law and covenant with God. Not only is it explicitly commanded in Torah (Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Exodus 20:8), but observance is a form of relationship with God. Careful observance is a way of honoring that relationship, similar to the way one might keep promises made in marriage. Both involve covenant bonds. It also speaks deeply to the ancient Oriental mindset where relationship is a primary component of one’s life (Yes, Middle Easterners are considered Oriental).

At its core, Shabbat, or Sabbath, means, “rest.” But rest isn’t just relaxing; it means refraining from melacha (creative or productive work). Orthodox Jews follow traditional interpretations of 39 categories of prohibited activities, including: no using electricity (e.g., phones, TVs, driving), no cooking (food is prepared beforehand), and no writing or handling money. For example, if you stay at a high-rise hotel in Jerusalem on Shabbat and find yourself in a “Shabbat elevator,” be prepared for the car to stop automatically on every floor—all the way up, and all the way down.  Folks who have traveled with us in the past are often surprised when they can’t get eggs to order or other cooked items on Shabbat. Israel as a nation takes Shabbat seriously. Stores close, public transportation stops, and even El Al, Israel’s national airline, does not fly on the Sabbath. The goal isn’t restriction for its own sake—it’s to step outside everyday control and productivity, and simply be. Our Russian Jewish friend was simply unwilling to interrupt that being time. It is something those of us who are part of this hurry-up Western Civilization do not understand.

So, do folks just sit around, doing nothing, on Shabbat?  Not at all. Shabbat is filled with intentional, meaningful practices, such as prayer (at home and in the synagogues), study, rest and family time, including shared meals, often festive and unhurried. One of the most meaningful aspects of our pilgrimages to Israel is a Shabbat dinner in the home of an Orthodox family. These families welcome us as a part of their own for the evening, sharing in their joy and traditional celebrations. Most folks say it is the highlight of their trip.

In Orthodox Judaism, Shabbat is sometimes described as a “taste of the world to come”—a weekly experience of peace, holiness, and completeness. It’s less about what you can’t do and more about creating space for what truly matters.

It’s been my observation that keeping Shabbat consistently connects individuals to generations of Jewish life,  synchronizes the whole community into a shared rhythm, and creates a visible, lived distinction from the surrounding culture. It is like stepping out of this broken and stress-filled world into one of peace and renewal.

The word, “sabbatical” is a direct derivative of Shabbat and carries with it the same idea of rest, release, and renewal, but on a longer timescale. The deeper idea from Shabbat and sabbatical is that rest is necessary, not optional, that productivity is not the whole story of life, and that periodic stepping back leads to renewal, perspective, and growth. So a sabbatical isn’t just a vacation—it’s meant to be purposeful rest, rooted in a very old idea that even work, land, and ambition need rhythms of stopping.

Father Roman understands the concept of purpose of sabbatical, and he has certainly earned this time away.  While we pray daily for him to achieve those goals for himself, why not commit to your own time of Shabbat?  While a full 24-hour Shabbat is not practical for most of us, start with 2-3 hour periods of time each week. Put it on your calendar. Treat it the way you would an important meeting—non-negotiable unless something truly urgent arises. Remember that rest doesn’t just mean inactivity; it means stepping away from that which drains or controls you. That might mean no emails or phone calls (Horrors!), saying “no” more often, or letting some things wait. The world can—and will—continue to function without you for a few hours.

So, my prayer for you—and me—is that we can not only support and pray for Fr. Roman these next several weeks, but that we, individually and as a community, may seek purposeful rest, renewal, and growth. It is what God intended for us, and we will be better for it.

Blessings,

Steve+