Rev. Nick Cheeck
Isaiah 58: 9-14
“Sabbath” – The word Sabbath is a verb that literally means “ceasing” or “to stop.” The traditional Shabbat is portrayed in Jewish liturgy, song, and story as a day of joy, a sanctuary from labors, and even a foretaste of the perfected world that will someday be attained. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks once wrote that “the Shabbat is the foretaste of the messianic redemption … by an act of will, the community creates this sacred time.” The Sabbath is recognized as the pinnacle of the creation of the universe. In Jewish tradition, by observing the Sabbath we remind ourselves of the wonder of creation, the role of human beings within it, and we catch a glimpse—even if only for a day—of the world as God intends it to be. A world at peace… a world in unity… a world at rest… a world in harmony… a world in holy relationship with nature and each other. [Pause] Sabbath finds its origins in the very first book of our Bible.
In Genesis chapter 2, we read of the creation story. God looked upon the formless void and decided to get creative. With divine imagination, God separated the waters, carved the mountains, shaped the seas, spoke vegetation into being, and sculpted with care the animals, the birds, and—last but not least—humankind.
After all that work, on the seventh day, God rested. Scripture says: “Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all their multitude. And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation.”
Sabbath is eternally attached to God’s creation… woven into the universe… into the very foundations of the earth. Sabbath is from the very beginning. And we are a part of it, too. We are creatures of the earth God created… God called us “Adama”… translated to mean “earthlings” or of the earth… of the dirt… from the ground. We contain the same material God mixed together and used to form everything else… from the tallest mountains, to the smallest microscopic organism—we are kin to it all. And we… Adama… earthlings… along with the rest of God’s creation, were formed with the seventh day in mind. The Sabbath has been knitted into our very DNA, church. We are made of the same dirt God commanded to rest. The Sabbath was made for the world, for us… and we, along with the rest of the world, were made for the Sabbath.
In our passage from Isaiah, the prophet offers us a word of caution concerning the Sabbath. Be mindful, he says… be careful not to trample upon the Sabbath… try not to let this sacred gift slip through our fingers, or overlook the day God has set apart and made holy.
Over the generations, and for many reasons, Sabbath has become harder to hold onto. Sundays that once centered around worship, rest, and community meals have slowly been pulled in other directions. The world has shifted, and God’s people have shifted with it. Most households now need two full-time incomes just to make ends meet. Work weeks stretch longer and longer, often bleeding into the weekends. Commerce runs constantly—stores open every hour of the day, online and in person. Sundays can easily turn into just another day to work, to catch up, to keep pace.
And then came COVID. For a season, everything stopped—ball fields went quiet, stores closed, travel halted. And even the church doors were locked up. Sanctuaries sat empty, choirs were silenced, communion tables went unused. For many of us, that disruption cut to the heart of Sabbath itself.
Yet in the midst of the grief and uncertainty, something else happened: people slowed down. Families shared meals again, neighbors walked together, and worship was streamed into living rooms. It wasn’t perfect… but it reminded us what it felt like to step outside the constant rush.
And then… restrictions lifted. Activities came flooding back, schedules filled faster than before, and the life-giving rhythms of rest we experienced during that season were quickly drowned out. The church felt that impact too. Worship habits were disrupted, and folks became comfortable missing more Sundays than before.
How important and vital is the Sabbath… to us… or to the world? What do you think, church? I mean, how do you feel when you find the time to be here… in community… listening to the word proclaimed… singing hymns and spiritual songs… shaking hands, hearing your name called… sharing the bread… the cup. Does it help you connect to God, to the other… to yourself? Does it feel like a burden is lifted… even just a little? And… I should also ask… do you notice something missing when it’s been a while since you’ve sat in the pews…?
Isaiah’s words are a gentle reminder about the benefits of the seventh day: “If you call the Sabbath a delight and the holy day of the Lord honorable … then you shall take delight in the Lord, and I will make you ride upon the heights of the earth.”
Isaiah’s reminder is not meant to shame us—it’s meant to beckon us back. Back to joy. Back to rest. Back to the delight of knowing that we are more than our schedules, more than our wins or losses, more than our busyness. More than our failures and frustrations. Sabbath is God’s promise to meet us here—to restore what is weary, to calm what is anxious, to steady what is unbalanced. [Pause]
And folks… the world we live in… appears to be unbalanced and uncentered. The lack of Sabbath is apparent. Our world feels restless and hurried…anxious, irritable, and worn thin…
It is also angry… confrontational… hostile and even violent. This past week gave us more proof than we needed. Deadly political violence shook our nation—an act that we hope and pray will not further inflame the fires of our political divides. Gun violence once again stole lives and left families grieving. Threats disrupted our college campuses… and around the globe, international conflicts are multiplying.
The very earth itself is also sharing in our unrest—wildfires… storms swelling into floods… heat waves breaking records and taking lives. [Pause] We need Sabbath now more than ever. The world needs rest. The world needs the church to remember who we are and whose we are. We are followers of Christ… people who believe all are beloved… and therefore we are also peacemakers… bridgebuilders… extravagant forgivers… folks who throw water on the flames of division… not gasoline… those who extend a hand instead of a fist… those who seek to break bread instead of breaking bodies. The world desperately needs Sabbath keepers.
When the Roman Empire was growing into Jewish territories, they encountered the practice of the Sabbath. And instead of seeing it as a positive tradition, they viewed their Jewish citizens as being slothful and stubborn. Soon enough, the Sabbath naturally became a protest by the Jews—it was a protest against the Roman way of life. Every time God’s people stopped, every time they laid down their tools and rested, they were proclaiming: we belong to God, not to empire.
Today, Sabbath still acts as a protest against a world that is restless and relentless. It resists calendars with no spaces, inboxes that never sleep, and screens that keep our minds racing but never at peace. It pushes back on the striving that tells us our worth is measured only by what we produce.
But Sabbath also stretches beyond our own lives. It is a protest against a culture that glorifies violence and leaves families grieving. It stands against political rage that tears communities apart and nations that choose war over peace. It protests an economy where the rich get richer and the least of these are left with crumbs.
Sabbath is God’s holy protest, church. It gives us permission to raise a hand and say, Enough. Enough is enough. Sabbath gives us permission to tell the frantic and often chaotic society we live in that it does not own us… God’s loving kindness does.
The Sabbath was made for you and you for the Sabbath.
Author and Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel has written about the balance Sabbath provides for us and our world: “He who wants to enter the holiness of the day must first lay down the profanity of clattering commerce, of being yoked to toil.
He must go away from the screech of dissonant days, from the nervousness and fury of acquisitiveness and the betrayal in embezzling his own life. He must say farewell to manual work and learn to understand that the world has already been created and will survive without the help of man. Six days a week, we wrestle with the world, wringing profit from the earth; on the Sabbath we especially care for the seed of eternity planted in the soul. The world has our hands, but our soul belongs to Someone Else.”
I thank God my parents raised me with the Sabbath in mind. The only reason I’m here in this pulpit today is because my parents honored the Sabbath. Last week, I told you I grew up as an altar boy in the Greek Orthodox Church. What I didn’t tell you is that my family gave me the nickname “Father Nick.” They did so because after a few years of cutting bread and waving the incense, I was so committed to the Sabbath that I would often rush my family out of the house so early that we would arrive at church before the priest.
This morning, the rest of my family is in church. My daughter is attending an Episcopal church in Greenville, my wife is preaching in Hartsville, my middle son is singing in the choir, and my youngest is in the pew with her confirmation sponsor.
Now, I know what some of you are thinking: “Of course your kids come to church, you’re pastors!” And you’d be right. Our kids don’t get much of a vote on Sunday mornings. They’ve grown up knowing that while some families might debate about what they’re doing on Sunday, our family is heading to church. But what I’ve found is that over the years, it’s become more than just “Dad and Mom’s job.” Sabbath has become part of our family culture. Our kids don’t argue about going to church, not only because it’s not optional—but because it’s just who we are now. It’s in the air we breathe. It’s part of our rhythm… and it’s stuck with us.
Church, the Sabbath was made for you and you for the Sabbath. Sabbath is a part of our DNA as God’s people. We are Adama… we were created by God with the seventh day in mind. When Sabbath becomes a pattern and a habit for you and your family… it will soon become a priority… and after it becomes a priority, it will become a way of being… and after it becomes a way of being… it will become a part of your culture and identity.
The Parnells, the Mullises, the Glenns, the Williams—the Sabbath was made for you and you for the Sabbath. Katherine, Bill, Meredith, May, Joyce, Becky, Mark, Josh, Lynette—the Sabbath was made for you and you for the Sabbath. The Reids, the Fields, the Bynums, the Tappys, the Blounts, the Sawyers—the Sabbath was made for you and you for the Sabbath. Mike, Gloria, Helen, Peter, Debbie, Rosanne—the Sabbath was made for you and you for the Sabbath. The Henrys, the Hoods, the Suggs, the Sarjeants, the Cheeks, the Picketts, the Parkers—the Sabbath was made for you and you for the Sabbath. (I think you’re getting the picture.)
Rabbi Heschel suggests that “The seventh day is a palace in time which we build. It is made of soul, of joy, and reticence. In its atmosphere, we are reminded of our adjacency to eternity.”
Sabbath is God’s invitation for us to pause long enough to gather, to listen, to break bread, to pray, to sing, to weep, and to rejoice—in the flesh, in the room, together. That’s what the early church did.
The book of Acts tells us they “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” And what followed? Awe. Wonder. Miracles in the middle of the mundane. Peace in the middle of chaos.
My friends… from the depth of the earth… from the foundations of creation… Sabbath is calling us… inviting us back again and again. The Sabbath was made for you and you for the Sabbath.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.