Weekends spell dread for some and relief for others. Either way they punctuate our week and put rhythm into our lives. They give us the chance to catch up with the laundry, the groceries and the home improvements. They give us time to visit friends and family, to attend parties, to shop till we drop and to indulge our hobbies. They provide a welcome breather and spare us from having to set our alarms.
But underneath what is an often well-deserved break lays the presumption that the government, our boss and even God somehow owe us that space. Yet Sunday, the Dies Solis, or Day of the Sun as decreed by Emperor Constantine, has little to do with the seventh day of Genesis.
God’s workweek was six days not five. His seventh day was a day of wonder and awe at the beauty of all that He had made. It was a day of rest from one evening to the next. It was one day not two! A day that was so sacred that He wrote it in stone so that no one would ever forget it.
So whilst we are free to enjoy our weekends, our free time and our holidays, celebrating the Shabbat remains by far the best day of all.