Well,
Hello,
Friends.
This is Mark Gladman,
Also known as Brother Frederick James,
Your friendly neighborhood monk in dogs.
Welcome to this last session in this series on Sabbath.
And today I want to begin by simply inviting you to pause for a moment to take a slow breath.
And just notice what's happening within you right now.
Perhaps you're tired?
Perhaps you're peaceful,
Perhaps you're distracted.
Maybe you're longing for more rest than you currently allow yourself.
Maybe somewhere during this journey.
One of the five Hebrew words we looked at deeply stayed with you.
Selah,
Shabbat,
Manucha,
Rafa.
Ancient words.
Sacred words.
Words carrying within them a vision of life very different from the restless world that we inhabit today.
Because the world that we inhabit constantly teaches us to move faster,
Produce more,
Consume more,
Achieve more,
Prove more.
But Sabbath speaks another language,
A language that's quieter,
Deeper.
The language of enough.
Perhaps that's what we've really been exploring together throughout the series.
Not techniques for rest per se,
But an entirely different way of being human.
Let's begin with Selah,
Because that's where we started the journey.
Stop and listen.
We reflected on the reality that our lives are crowded with noise and information and endless movement.
And Selah invited us to pause long enough for truth to sink into the soul,
To stop consuming constantly and become attentive again.
And then came Shabbat,
To cease,
To stop striving and stop producing,
To stop clinging to the belief that your worth depends on endless productivity.
God created,
God delighted,
And then God stopped.
It wasn't because creation was lacking anything,
But because it was enough.
And maybe part of Sabbath is learning to trust that enoughness ourselves.
And then we explored Manuka,
Rest after chaos,
The deep exhale of the soul beside still waters.
The settling that comes after storms.
That quiet gratitude that emerges when we finally slow down long enough to notice grace.
And then came Rafah,
Perhaps the hardest invitation of all to let go.
To relax your grip,
To surrender the exhausting illusion of control.
Trust that even when your own strength reaches its limit,
You're still being held by grace.
And then finally,
Noo-ah.
Settling into presence,
Resting with God.
Not merely resting from work,
But dwelling peacefully with divine companionship.
Learning.
That we don't journey through life by ourselves.
And then we saw how all of this finds its fulfilment in Christ.
Come to me,
Jesus says in Matthew's Gospel,
All you who are weary.
An invitation,
Not just a temporary relief.
But into a whole new rhythm of life,
A life rooted in abiding.
Rather than striving,
A life of restful participation in the presence of God.
And maybe now we begin to see that Sabbath isn't merely one day set apart from ordinary life.
It's a way of inhabiting life itself,
A way of moving through the world with greater attentiveness,
Greater trust,
Greater peace,
A way of remembering.
That we are human beings,
Not human doings.
That our values deeper than productivity that rest as holy.
That delight matters,
That stillness.
Can become prayer and maybe most importantly that God is already here in the pause,
In the breath.
In the silence,
In the quiet moments we usually rush past.
The sacred pause was never about escaping life,
It was about learning how to truly live it.
To notice beauty again,
To rediscover gratitude.
To become present enough to encounter God within ordinary existence.
And maybe this is what our exhausted world needs so desperately.
Not more information or speed or pressure,
But deeper presence,
Deeper rest,
Deeper peace.
So as the series comes to an end,
I don't want to leave you with a list of rules.
I simply want to leave you with an invitation.
Pause more often.
Listen more deeply.
Cease without guilt.
Rest intentionally.
Let go when you need to.
Create small spaces where your soul can settle again in the presence of God.
Your Sabbath might not look like someone else's and that's okay.
Because the deeper question.
.
.
Isn't so much how perfectly do I practice Sabbath.
But the deeper questions.
Am I becoming more present,
More peaceful?
More attentive to God and to life itself.
That's the true heart of Sabbath.
Restoration.
Communion.
Learning how to live from the sacred center.
So now,
Before we close this journey,
Together I want to invite you into one final moment of stillness.
Take a slow breath.
And gently hear these words.
You do not need to carry everything.
Alone.
You do not need to prove your worth through endless striving.
You are allowed to stop.
You are allowed to rest.
You are already held in love.
Sela,
Shabbath,
Manucha,
Rafa,
Nuach.
May these words remain with you.
Not ideas in your head,
But rhythms that shape.
Your life.
Let's pride.
God of Sabbath,
God of stillness,
God of peace.
Thank you for meeting us in the pause.
Thank you for the sacred invitation to stop,
To breathe,
To rest,
And to remember what truly matters.
In our world of endless noise and striving,
Teach us how to live more deeply rooted in your presence.
Help us practice Selah that we might listen well.
Help us practice Shabbat that we may cease without fear.
Lead us into manuha,
That our souls may discover peace after chaos.
Teach us Rafah.
That we might loosen our grip and trust your grace.
And guide us into Nuwak,
That we may dwell quietly with you.
May the rest that we've explored here become more than an idea.
May it become a way of living.
A way of loving.
A way of moving through the world with gentleness,
Attentiveness,
Compassion and peace.
And when we forget.
.
.
When we become hurried again and anxiety takes us over,
Just call us back gently.
To the sacred pause.
Call us back to your stillness.
Call us back to your love.
Call us back.
To yourself.
And may grace,
Peace and love be with us and abide with us today and always.
Amen.
Thank you so much for being with us on this special series about Sabbath and rest.
I hope you'll return to it as you need and find deeper ways to allow Sabbath,
The spirit of Sabbath,
To guide and shape your daily life.
Until next time.
May peace and rest be with you.
Bye for now.
