An Experiment in Spirituality
I decided to join a friend, on the first Sunday of the new year, in taking the challenge to keep a Sabbath. My husband and daughter were away visiting family. I didn't have any obligations on my time. I figured the task would never be easier than a cold winter day spent alone.
Looking for Something
The impetus for the Sabbath was a to unplug. My friend reasoned it would give her a chance to better hear the voice of God. I can't say my own motivations were as noble, but I did feel I was spending too much time every day consuming passive media, like reading Facebook posts instead of having real conversations in person.
Amish
As a child I went to a summer camp located in Holmes County, Ohio. The small farm was the equivalent of an Amish dude ranch. Set among the rolling hills it lacked municipal services and was surrounded by an Amish community. It was a magical time of learning simple farm chores and living without electricity.
As an adult I ask myself if it's possible to be a little bit Amish? Could I turn my back on modern ways?
The Amish preserve their way of life by rejecting all outsiders, following a strict religion with iron-clad patriarchy, receive little education, and completely shun any relative who refuses to obey all of the strict community rules.
They believe their lifestyle is an all or nothing choice--black and white. They don't tolerate shades of gray or dabbling. They would likely be amused by someone thinking unplugging for a day would be enough. Still I decided to give it a try--kind of.
Modern Life
Since I'm not about to buy a horse and buggy, I'm left navigating the modern world. While I appreciate time saving devices and enhanced communications, I also have to wonder if our gadgets have begun to control us instead of the other way around. Can we find balance without creating a closed society outside of the mainstream?
Sabbath
I have almost no religious education. My understanding of the purpose of the Sabbath is to spend a day a week in rest and spiritual contemplation. Given my sporadic attendance of any formal religious services, it's no wonder I'm at a loss as to how to keep a Sabbath. However, my friends, many of whom do espouse an adherence to a specific creed, don't seem any more engaged in keeping the Sabbath than I am.
Figuring Out the Rules
I got up Sunday morning, checked my emails on my phone, then made myself breakfast with a pot of tea. Until that point I hadn't decided if I was committed to the Sabbath idea or not. Chewing on my toast I decided I was.
The first, and most difficult, problem was deciding on the rules, particularly when you're winging it. An easy target seemed to be avoid as many electronic devices as possible. Sitting at the table I realized I'd already blown it by using the toaster and oven. If I had planned ahead I could have had iced tea and a cold breakfast devoid of cooking.
As I mulled over how strict to be, I decided some appliances are more harmful to turn off than leave on. Who wants a fridge of spoiled food or a pipe burst in house without heat? I needed to get into the spirit of the Sabbath in a way which was respectful.
I decided not to use the car (which isn't really a sacrifice since I often travel by foot or bike), avoid cooking, and skip my usual Sunday laundry loads. Could I wash the dishes by hand? I contemplated the use of hand tools for awhile, but then pictured a busy mother spending her morning sweeping with a broom. While the image has a certain Zen appeal, what is the point of her spending twice as long to do half the work? She has still spent the morning doing chores.
I'm not against appliances, per se. They serve useful functions. I decided the point of Sabbath was to skip regular chores. I wouldn't clean. Strangely the cobwebs started to bother me and I felt a longing for Monday morning to get rid of them. Perhaps making them forbidden added to the allure.
When I got dressed I wondered about make-up. Should I go the Amish route and be modest? Or would I do better to dress up in honor of the day? I thought of Baptist women I've met in their Sunday best dresses topped with outlandish hats. I can't say either approach is better.
That is the problem with spiritual tourism. I am taking bits and pieces without having a good grounding in what I should follow.
Surprises
I decided I was fine with spending money, particularly shopping locally and getting out in the community. At lunch I walked over to Duran Pharmacy to buy a Sunday New York Times newspaper. I was dismayed to see how small the paper had shrunk. The clerk accidently rung it up as a weekday edition, agreeing it appeared unusually small.
I folded the paper into my purse. No matter, I decided, I would walk over to the Downtown Flying Star Café to read the free magazines. One of my joys has always been to dig through the racks. Years ago I felt I was making it as a freelance writer when I could spot three different publications at once who'd published my articles.
Imagine my dismay when I found most of the black racks empty. A sign was taped to the bare shelves explaining their customers had turned to digital and they were removing the magazines to make way for more outlets.
Plugged In
As I stood in front of the empty racks my Sabbath experiment started to feel more real. Up until that point I figured using my digital devices was optional. I could easily spend the day without them. Suddenly, I wasn't so sure. If I have to log into an electronic device for reading materials, what is going to stop my from checking emails or surfing the web? The digital slope was getting slippery.
Evening
In modern life we've lost touch with many of our natural cycles. By walking I'm forced to stay in touch with the changing seasons. What about day and night?
I decided I would experience the sunset. It came faster than I expected. I barely made the walk home from the grocery store when my downstairs went dim. I had to hustle to get showered before dark.
I lit candles and my fireplace. While I expected to enjoy the ambience nestled with my two dogs, I quickly grew restless and bored. I had decided to use the phone, since it connected me directly in conversation with other people. Despite calls with family members, however, I still had trouble coping with the dark. My eyes strained to finish the paper by candlelight.
I lasted less than an hour before I flipped the lights back on. Even the Amish use bright lanterns to light up their homes. It's inconceivable to me how many hours a day people used to lose before the invention of decent night lighting.
Lessons
I occupy myself quite a bit by reading. I'm not sure how I would cope without an education and access to information. I think being plugged in isn't as much of a problem as not having access. Still, I found I got twitchy when I had to turn it off. I think it would take several Sundays to get used to the feeling of tuning out.
I suspect a Sabbath is best kept within an extended community of like-minded people. While it's probably not important whether you're allowed to use the phone or not, it would seem to matter that you are following a set of guidelines with peers.
While the voice of God didn't come to me, I did find I was more creative. I thought of a couple design projects I wanted to do around the house and felt more ready to get busy on Monday morning. I'm not, however, sure I would try it again by myself.
(Photos of stained glass windows at the Chicago Art Institute.)
