On Writing–and Sabbath

By Tamisha Tyler 

“After creating the universe, all the stars, each grain of sand, the humpback whale, and the soft-shell crab, even God tired and took a day off. There’s no argument that we humans, who at our best can only create opportunities and at our worst create havoc, need time to rest.”

-Maya Angelou, Even the Stars Look Lonesome

In her essay on vacationing, Maya Angelou speaks to the need of rest. Both in the yearning to be with and like God, and in our limitedness in our ability to do so, rest (or Sabbath) becomes the way in which we seek to occupy both spaces. Like a child walking around in their parents’ oversized shoes, Sabbath becomes the space where we desire to walk in the footprints of our creator, but also the space where we realize that his shoes are just too big to fill. In other words, Sabbath is the giving into communion, and the giving up of control.

When we think of Sabbath most of the time however, we think of church or congregational worship (and rightly so!). Yet for many of us, and for the ministry leader especially, Sunday worship is not the Sabbath we expect (or need) and we are often left to find other ways and times on which to rest our weary souls. Our willingness and commitment to create Sabbath spaces for others does not negate our need for rest, and the question becomes “How do I have a Sabbath Soul?”

In the space that I have to write this blog, I would like to share one of the ways I engage in Sabbath practice, namely through writing.

The day is Saturday. It is half past noon. I sit, slightly slouched on a couch in Zeli’s Café, notebook in my lap. The sweet smell of burnt scone permeates the air as Jazz percussion spills out of the speakers, giving rhythm and life to the conversations of the café dwellers. An old lady looks up from her crossword and catches me staring. She smiles, then goes back to her task, shiny grey locks falling in her face as she does. Outside, young girls in green vests exchange scared sweets for cash. There will be no Lenten fasting today…

This is my Sabbath: the practice of stopping, waiting, and paying attention.

Writing has a way of making us pay attention to our lives. It forces us to articulate how we feel, what we see and think. The use of language and grammar gives us the space and boundaries to pinpoint the dealings within us that have no name. In our writing, we too have the ability to look back at our weeks and declare, “it is good.” This task however, is only done through the work of the Holy Spirit who, no matter what the situation, gives us the foresight and faith to look back at each day and say only “it is good.”

It is this notion of unrelenting goodness that makes Sabbath so unique. Sabbath is not only a moment of rest, but also a moment of reflection; of seeing the good in the work that has been done. If you find that you are taking time off but are more tired at the end of the day, or if you find that you cannot identify a moment of goodness in your reflection, it is not a Sabbath.

A Sabbath is not a vacation, though they often happen simultaneously. Sabbath requires a reflection of time past, and a communion with God, allowing Him into that time. Though writing is one way to do this, there are many other ways. How do you engage God in Sabbath practice?

Tamisha Tyler works as an Events Administrator at Fuller Theological Seminary. She graduated in 2014 with an MDiv in Worship, Theology and the Arts. She aspires to connect the arts, theology, and the imagination in a way that inspires artists to engage their faith and awaken the church to acknowledge the beauty and incredible revelation that is found in art. Read more at her blog Honest Conversation.

You can follow Fuller Seminary on Twitter at @fullerseminary.