Rediscovering Sabbath Rest: A Call to Holy Leisure and Renewal
Those last two words, “be refreshed,” speak directly to the heart. Amidst the hubbub of everyday life, we yearn for heavenly rest—the kind that rejuvenates and inspires, that rejoices in the face of beauty, truth, and goodness. This is reflected in the Roman Canon’s remembrance of the faithful departed: “Grant them, O Lord, we pray, and all who sleep in Christ, a place of refreshment, light, and peace” (Eucharistic Prayer I). The hope of heaven as this place for us and our loved ones ought to motivate us to attach ourselves to God, bring others to Christ, and run the race to the finish.
Beyond this hope for the next life, the Sabbath “helps everyone enjoy adequate rest and leisure to cultivate their familial, cultural, social, and religious lives” (CCC, 2184.). All of the most important aspects of our lives here on Earth are brought to their fullness by Sabbath rest and holy leisure, taken at appropriate times (especially Sundays and Solemnities) and in appropriate measure. The Catechism (CCC, 2185.) acknowledges that this Sabbath rest may sometimes be legitimately impossible due to familial or social duties, but it strongly warns against habits “prejudicial to religion, family life, and health.” In other words, we must find bodily and spiritual rest to flourish.
In a season of intense work, immense changes in life, and spiritual dryness, our souls cry out for the rest promised by the Sabbath. I found myself in such a season this summer, despite being in the least demanding liturgical season (I am a music director at a Catholic Church). Feeling run-down and despairing for the rest I desired in the face of a travel-heavy summer, I found it in the place I least expected.
Taking part in the Catholic Institute for Sacred Music’s Choral Institute, I flew out to California and spent five long, grueling days making beautiful liturgical music. Despite the laborious and intensive nature of the experience, it provided the holy leisure I needed. Here’s what made it so refreshing:
I was away (for only as long as my duties allowed) from those who have immediate demands on me. Even Christ went away by Himself to pray at times (Luke 5:16).
I used technology sparingly, only to communicate with my wife and family at set times of the day. This created plenty of time for silence.
I took frequent walks alone and with colleagues, spending time in nature and lively conversation.
I participated in and listened to exquisitely beautiful music.
I was part of a community explicitly created to worship God, where social interactions reflected this purpose.
The course was structured predictably around liturgical prayer (Morning Prayer, the Angelus, afternoon Mass, and Vespers), with time for private prayer and confession built in.
The work I was doing (intense rehearsal and scholarly discussion) was ordered to the right worship of God.
All of this made it possible for God to reach into my heart and renew it, calling me to carry my cross beside Him in joy and thanksgiving instead of toil and drudgery. Despite the busy schedule, the time change, and the real fatigue I felt throughout the week, it was a time of “rest and refreshment.” Looking back, I am now convicted to implement those aspects of holy leisure—solitude, silence, bodily movement, exposure to beauty, God-centered community, structure, and worship of God—into my weekly Sabbath rest.
But as the Catechism says, “Sanctifying Sundays and holy days requires a common effort” (CCC, 2187). Knowing this is our obligation, how can we, together, order our lives so that our rest becomes an image of Heaven? What changes do we need to make so that we may be continually renewed in mind, body, and spirit? May we always keep the Sabbath day holy, with an eye to join our brethren in that “place of refreshment, light, and peace.”
Written by Elijah McMahon
