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Remember Opposite Day? Here's how it worked: As a kid, you
declared the day Opposite Day, and on that day everything
you spoke was the reverse of what it normally meant. Yes
meant no. Up was down. Right was wrong.
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The Jewish Sabbath has some things in common with Opposite
Day. A kind of reversal of the other six days of the week,
Sabbath is a 25-hour period where our 'normal' lives are set
aside. We do and say things on the Sabbath that—while not
exactly the opposite of our behavior during the other six
days—are something of a strong contrast.
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We spend our time not on work, but
with dear friends and family. We think. We discuss. We pray. We
relax. Among the things we don't do: We don't drive on the
Sabbath, we don't answer the phone, we don't do anything that
impacts significantly on the natural world. In short, we change
our patterns and our relationship with the conveniences we've
mistakenly come to accept as necessary. We interrupt the
impulses we normally give in to without a second thought. |
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Imagine a life without contrast.
Day in, day out, it's all the same. Nothing changes. Events are
predictable, familiar, and convenient. A steady life without
contrast might be comfortable, but a lack of significant change
or difference in our lives can lead to stagnation. If
everything's always the same, how do we grow? How do we change?
By deliberately introducing a periodic break in our typical
patterns of activity, we put ourselves in a position to better
challenge and change our behaviors, our thoughts, and we gain
better insight into ourselves and our values. This effect can
last like an echo through the following week. |
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Imagine a life without rest.
That is, imagine slavery. It's easy to take our freedom for
granted, or to lose our sense of appreciation and gratitude
for what we have, such as our autonomy or our relationships
with others. The Egyptian taskmasters are long gone, but
Shabbat still gives us the chance to truly rest, to assert
and affirm our freedom from whatever might enslave us. We
become grateful for what we have because we're not
distracted by those things that matter less. By clearing
away other concerns and making space for quiet and
contemplation, we just hear better and see better. And with
that clarity, we can readjust our perspective on what’s
important.
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Funny thing is, when
understood and practiced appropriately, Shabbat no longer feels
like a bunch of inconvenient restrictions. It begins to feel
like the way things are supposed to be. It’s not like there’s
real life for six days and then there's Shabbat, but more like
the reverse. Shabbat's the real thing—setting aside the time for
communing with nature, with your spouse, with your children,
with friends, with your thoughts and those of others—and the
other six days are just the necessary distractions we occupy
ourselves with in the meantime. The restrictions of Shabbat give
way to an understanding of what really matters: freedom, rest
from enslavement, the opportunity for growth and the expression
of gratitude for being alive. |
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Remember the feeling of being
stuck at home after a huge snowstorm? No shopping. No
driving. Just time to enjoy, think, and break from a normal
pattern of chore and habit. Instead of "can't do this" and
"have to do that," on Shabbat, like during a wonderful
storm, we "get to do" the things that, when we really
understand and appreciate life, we would normally choose to
do anyway. There's an ironic freedom that results from the
so-called restrictions. It’s quite the opposite of what
people might think. Why not try it?
Taken Directly From:
http://www.oneg-shabbat.org/why_shabbat.jsp
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