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Jump-Start Your Day

Saturday, April 14th, '18

All rights reserved © message by Kris Jackson

 

EASY LIKE SUNDAY MORNING

"The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath" (Mark 2:27)

 

Sunday morning is supposed to be a holy hush, not a mad rush. I thought of that last Sunday driving a rural highway through the winding Ozarks highlands, oaks and pines, across beautiful Table Rock Lake en route to a country church pastored by an old buddy. I knew what I would find when arriving there, open Sunday school discussion, the kind that can sidetrack to hairlines and hemlines if the teacher doesn't reign things in. And there would be "testimonies", happy birthday songs, the old red hymnbook and more fishing stories than deep revelation. But that was what I needed at the moment. I didn't want to fight the traffic jam at the space age mega-church I normally would attend. It is a great place, escorted by black tie ushers, computerized scripture on the wall so you needn't tote a Bible and an orchestra that rivals Boston Pops. And the place is permeated with peace, just not the kind of peace I needed last Sunday.

 

I needed a slow down. Not that I'm compulsive, driven or one whose feet hit the ground running. But I drove under 50 MPH the whole twenty-five miles, read all the Hillbilly What-nots signs along the way and didn't pass a single car. I normally pass everyone. A sheriff pulled one good reverend over and quoted, "Thy speedometer runneth over". Sunday morning had usually meant get dressed, inhale some breakfast, crack the whip, cram the last-minute details of the sermon, memorize the poem, walk on eggshells, try not to offend sister so-and-so for a change, make sure you do offend brother so-and-so, he needs it, shift into preacher mode, cock the trigger, smile, you're on Candid camera. That may be a little exaggeration but Sundays were more chore than charis, grace.  Taking in all the wild John-quills while driving last Sunday morning and made for watercolor cloud patterns, I started to hum Lionel Ritchie's song Easy Like Sunday Morning. Then I remembered taking an occasional "Sunday drive" as a boy in the old Chevy station wagon. Back then the peace of God came with the pace of God. Life was slower.

 

Jesus said a rest day was made for man's sake, not man made to comply to a stringent Sabbatical code. The day was not made to be "observed", but enjoyed. Science backs the basic premise. Your heart rate slows slightly every seven days. The Jews had to let their farms rest every seven years so the ground wouldn't turn "sour" with all its minerals and nitrates depleted. It would stand to reason that sour people are those who have used up all reserves. "For so he gives his beloved sleep" (Psalm 127:2). Machinery that runs non-stop eventually breaks down no matter how often it's oiled. It made me think, my son Joshua puts the two grandkids down for a nap in the afternoon and they have no say in the matter. Are we not God's little children? The shepherd makes the sheep "lie down in green pastures". But we rebel. "I've got too much to do to take a Sunday off". Then when forced to lie down on white sheets in CCU we wish we would have laid down in green pastures when Daddy said it's time for bed. Taking it easy once in a while is not a sin. Martha's dishes and laundry will still be there tomorrow when she gets back to the kitchen. Mary on the other hand sat at Jesus' feet to hear the word and quieted her pulse. If you lose an account I'll bet God can give you another. It's not that you can't afford to take a drive to the country church, you can't afford not to. Yes, heaven demands much from us, but we've demanded even more than that which takes it to the other extreme. So, I suggest a slower gear, taking it all less seriously, easy like Sunday morning.


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