Normally, I post my articles here on Fridays, simply out of habit, but this week has been particularly busy. As part of my work, I assist with psychological testing for clergy and religious applicants, and this is the busiest time of year for them! The sheer amount of work on my plate recently has caused me to reflect more deeply on the balance between work and rest.
A few years ago, I read and thoroughly enjoyed The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer. The book not only highlighted how easily we can miss the present moment while rushing through life, but it also delved into the meaning of orienting our lives around the Sabbath—a tradition that seems to have been somewhat lost in modern Christianity.
Making Holy the Sabbath Day
What would it look like if we truly oriented our lives toward Sunday and embraced the celebration of all that is good? In a recent conversation with my husband about the concept of TGIF, I expressed my frustration with the mentality behind it. While the TGIF mindset is deeply ingrained in my psyche, it’s something I often find myself trying to reject. American culture has elevated Fridays to a sort of sacred day of relief from the work week, and I definitely feel it! Every Friday, I experience a sense of lightness and an excited, almost celebratory energy. Friday feels like the gateway to freedom, the entrance into the weekend where I can finally do what I want with my time. Yet, over time, I’ve noticed how Sunday begins to carry a sense of apprehension as I face the weight of the upcoming work week.
When I begin to reflect on how we orient our weeks and compare it to the Liturgical ordering of days, I can’t help but see something troubling. It feels like our culture has taken a day meant for somber reflection and turned it upside down. I grew up Catholic, but it wasn’t until this year that I realized Fridays were meant to be penitential all year long, not just during Lent. For most of my life, I held the belief that Fridays were for celebrating the end of a long work week, a chance to relax and enjoy something fun.
After Vatican II, the USCCB acknowledged that sacrificing meat on Fridays was no longer a true sacrifice, given its widespread availability. Instead, the faithful were encouraged to choose something personally meaningful to give up on Fridays year-round. Unfortunately, this tradition quickly fell out of practice, often replaced by casual outings like drinks with friends or family pizza night. I distinctly remember the tension I felt in my adolescent years between the typical indulgence of a Friday and the more reflective Fridays of Lent. It almost felt wrong to deny myself something on a Friday because I was so accustomed to the idea of Friday as a day of enjoyment.
This way of living seems to stand in stark contrast to the teachings of our Catholic faith. We celebrate the day that the Lord died, as if this day gave us the “freedom” to live as we choose, and dread the day that is meant to honor His resurrection.
Reorienting to Sunday: A Call to Rest and Reflection
So, what would it look like to truly orient our lives toward Sunday? To make it a holy day of rest? What if we looked forward to celebrating God and all that is good, setting aside our work for that purpose? I’m reminded of how we approach planning a vacation—there’s always that rush to get everything done so we can fully relax and enjoy the experience.
But how often do we take Sunday seriously as a day of rest? How many chores from the week or how much meal prep do we save for Sunday? It feels as though Sunday has become the rushed day to squeeze in all the activities we put off from Friday and Saturday, just to prepare for the upcoming work week.
What if, instead, the entire work week—including Friday and Saturday—prepared us for a true day of rest? It’s an entirely different mentality, one that reorients our priorities and our approach to both work and rest.
Leisure as the Basis of Culture
In his book Leisure as the Basis of Culture, Joseph Pieper argues that true leisure requires self-discipline. He doesn’t see leisure as merely the absence of work or a chance for idleness. Instead, he views it as a disciplined practice—one that involves being fully present to reality and appreciating its beauty. The book’s description on the back cover captures his perspective well: “Leisure is nothing less than an attitude of mind and a condition of the soul that fosters a capacity to perceive the reality of the world.” This sounds a lot like Mindfulness to me. What would be like to make Sunday a day to truly be in a place of receptivity to the wonder that is God’s creation? There is so much suffering, death, pain, and sorry that threatens to pull us away from an orientation to God’s unconditional love for us.
Pieper asserts that “leisure has been, and always will be, the first foundation of any culture,” and he notes, “in our bourgeois Western world, ‘total labor’ has vanquished leisure.” He warns that unless we rediscover the art of silence and reflection, and replace our frenetic amusements with true leisure, we risk destroying both our culture and ourselves.
Call to Action:
As we navigate our busy lives, I challenge you to take a moment this week and reflect on how you approach your work and rest. Are you truly preparing yourself for a day of rest, or are you simply rushing to check off your to-do list? How might you reorient your life toward true leisure and Sabbath rest? What are some things you might do differently to really make Sunday the Holy day of rest?