After leaving my job working for my Catholic parish last fall, I lived a desert experience. I didn’t know where I was going, and I didn’t know if I would even know once I got there. It was an unnerving time of total surrender; it was also one of the greatest gifts God ever gave me. After I decompressed, I began to think of my unexpected time off like a sabbatical. A “sabbatical,” or “Sabbath” year, is named as such because it shares a root word with “seven,” akin to the seven days of creation. And, it was exactly 7 months from the day I left my job to the day I was hired for my next steady part-time job. This connection made me wonder: What if I viewed my season of unemployment not just as a sabbatical, but as one long Sabbath? 

I wonder if Martha felt like she was being laid off from her job when Jesus told her that Mary had chosen the “better part.” Was it unnerving to step away from her good, holy labors, her comfort zone of competence? (It was for me!) Thus, what if we also read Mary as naturally embracing the time for Sabbath, embodied in that moment in the sacred personhood of Jesus Christ?

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel’s book, The Sabbath (1951) is a poetic masterpiece of Jewish scholarship. Describing the Sabbath, Heschel writes, “There is a realm of time where the goal is not to have but to be, not to own but to give, not to control but to share, not to subdue but to be in accord” (3). This was deeply true for my season of unemployment, in which the only possession I had in my day was my time. The Sabbath reminds us of the sanctification of time, which is a tremendous and deeply compelling value articulated in Judaism. Pope Francis echoes this thought in Evangelii gaudium, as he crystallizes the image of time being greater than space: “Giving priority to time means being concerned about initiating processes rather than possessing spaces” (223). As Martha flittered in the spaces of kitchens and dining rooms, Mary reclined in the shared time with Jesus, where the encounter was intimate. Rabbi Heschel reflects that in Jewish studies, there are scholars who would “speak of the seventh day not as if referring to abstract time, elusive and constantly passing us by. The day was a living presence, and when it arrived they felt as if a guest had come to see them” (The Sabbath, 53). Mary rested in the living presence, and Jesus gently invited Martha to do the same.

There is a humbling freedom in embodying this Sabbath (and unemployment) wisdom. Pope Francis reminds us that God “invites us to accept the tension between fullness and limitation, and to give a priority to time” (Evangelii gaudium 222-3). Francis’s words are an echo of what Rabbi Heschel wrote 60 years earlier: “This, then, is the answer to the problem of civilization: not to flee from the realm of space; to work with things of space but to be in love with eternity. Things are our tools; eternity, the Sabbath, is our mate.” When Jesus came to the home of Mary & Martha, they were invited to pause to be in relationship with eternity.

For followers of Jesus Christ, perhaps there is no greater understanding of the Sabbath than of becoming aware of having the person of Jesus dining in your midst, both in the Eucharistic liturgy but also in everyday Eucharistic moments. Whereas Martha was well-intentioned, following the sacred customs of hospitality, Mary instead was following the laws and the posture of the Sabbath, resting and feasting in the company of the group. According to the Code of Jewish Law, “On the Sabbath, one should partake generously of fruits and delicacies, and inhale sweet odors, in order to complete the total of one hundred benedictions. Indeed, it is meritorious to partake of everything that provides one with pleasure…” (Vol. 2, Ch. 77, 22). But, in the words of Susannah Heschel, daughter of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, “Strict adherence to the laws regulating Sabbath observance doesn’t suffice; the goal is creating the Sabbath as a foretaste of paradise” (The Sabbath, Introduction, xv). We don’t know what day of the week that Jesus went to Martha’s home, but we do know that Mary must have intuited that moment of intimacy with God as a foretaste of paradise.

The principle “Ora et Labora,” central to the Rule of St. Benedict, is a beloved guidepost for Benedictine communities. “To pray and work” is a key element of monastic life, seeking balance not unlike the balance of the six days of labor and one day of Sabbath in the Jewish faith. Is it a binary balance, or is it a merism? Perhaps that answer is for the Spirit to reveal in us over time, if we stay faithful to the path.

Rather than the well-intentioned but sometimes tired question of, “Are you a Martha or a Mary,” take a moment to reflect on Ora et Labora in your life. What are the aspects of prayer and work? Are there spaces in your life where the lines are blurry between the two?

Begin by taking a deep breath and inviting the God of eternity, limitless time, to be present to you.

Reflect on what prayer has looked like to you lately. Where have you offered yourself to dialogue and communion with God? How has that made you feel?

Now, reflect on the work of your life: Your labor in home/family, your labor at a job, your mental and emotional labor in the face of social injustice. How has that made you feel? How has it influenced your relationship with God?

Lastly, ask God to reveal to you: Are there places where God invites you to change your relationship to prayer, or to work, or to how you structure your time with those things? 

Come, Holy Spirit. Amen.

Are you more comfortable with reflecting on prayer and work as a binary, or as a merism?

Does Sabbath come easily to you? Why or why not?

How might your family/community look different if you were intentional about embodying the spirit of the Sabbath, as articulated by Rabbi Heschel, more faithfully?

For 1,500 years, monasteries have attracted seekers of a deep spiritual life and have built communities that serve as a model of mutual aid and voice of social change wherever they are located. In a widening of what monastic life can look like today, the Benedictine Sisters of Erie, PA have launched the Benedictine Peacemakers Monastic Immersion program.

This immersion is a year-long experience designed for young adults to live in intentional community with each other and the Benedictine Sisters, explore personal formation and community based outreach through the wisdom of the Rule of St. Benedict. In this embodiment of Ora et Labora, Peacemakers will be immersed in the monastic experience, develop within the community, commit themselves to good work, ask questions, and dedicate time to becoming their most whole selves. The lines between prayer and work become blurry, as they pour and flow seamlessly between one another.

“Especially in times where the world around us feels urgent and overwhelming, there can be wisdom in deepening our connections with others, finding grounding in spiritual practices, and responding with attention and intention” said Michelle Scully, Benedictine Peacemakers Program Director. “I am excited for the Peacemakers and the Erie Benedictine Sisters to spend this time working and praying together, while also growing and learning from one another throughout the upcoming year.”

Read more about Benedictine Peacemakers here.