Dear Unnamed Pastor,
Well, you did it to me again. Ruined a perfectly good Sabbath. You just had to bring up Christ’s full and sufficient sacrifice, didn’t you? I think your words were, “We will not be judged on our sanctification.”
So what am I doing a Sabbath for? If I don’t get any Heavenly brownie points, then let’s call the whole thing off.
Okay, not really. But it does make me think. Why am I still observing an ancient Jewish ritual? A ritual Jesus took great delight in breaking to heal others.
Others. There’s my answer. I am not God in flesh. Left to my own devices, I will stomp on others. The Sabbath reminds me every week that I am still in need of a Savior (picture my family nodding their heads enthusiastically). Without it, I could fool myself into thinking I’m a pretty good Christian. Sabbath has been the most effective vehicle for sanctification I have found. Sure, it’s an artificial construct. So is a novel, and I can’t get enough of those, either.
I guess I’m stuck with sanctification for the sake of others. Those 24-hour stretches won’t buy me better real estate in Glory-land; Jesus already opened that gate and no one can shut it. But maybe, because I’ve Rested, I won’t alienate the people the King longs to bring into the kingdom.
