It’s Sunday morning and from my kitchen window, I see that snow has snuck up on my little town 
during the night. And, it is frigid outside, twelve degrees below zero.
I put on my hat and winter jacket intending to go outside to see if my red Mazda’s battery will crank up the engine. When I opened the front door of my house, the porch was glittering in brilliant sunlight with a hard carpet of icy snow. Pretty to look at, but walking on it would be dangerous for an old guy like me. My better angel (His name is “Butch.”) convinced me that caution was in my best interest.
Today, I won’t drive forty-five miles to visit with my sisters. I won’t get to enjoy the drive on highway 42 with its vistas of snowy farm fields and small towns just waking up on this Sunday Sabbath, the Christian one.
Today, I won’t go to a fast food joint and pick up hamburgers and shakes for my South Elgin family. My plans for this day are foiled because I ‘ll be at home today.
Sunday is supposed to be different, a contrast between the work week and the Lord’s Day. I have already prayed morning prayer and attended the Eucharist but I have the rest of the day before me. “The rest of the day?” Am I not supposed to rest on the “day of rest?”
So, I will rest. I will doze. I will sit. I will look out the window, None of this is a waste. It is my sabbath time, a gift from the Lord, a grace-space to renew my life.
Doesn’t this sound like heresy? Sunday or not, I should be doing something. The culture says that we Americans in the 21 st century shouldn’t be idle at all –ever! There are beds to make, rugs to vacuum, dishes to wash and put away. There are groceries I need from Jewel. My red Mazda is showing a quarter of a tank so I should gas up my car. The snow needs shovelling and, I sure do need to plan this coming week. But, It is the Sunday Sabbath.
Instead, I’ll take a nap in my overstuffed chair for maybe twenty-minutes. I’ll begin reading Tom Holland’s new book, Dominion, or at least start it. It’s some five hundred pages of history, but Holland has such great insights. I’ll phone a friend who can’t get out, either. He’s got one more day in Covid-protocol.
And, tomorrow? If the men who shovel the snow –snowmen?– don’t shovel the snow off my front porch today, I won’t be going anywhere tomorrow, either. But, I won’t worry about tomorrow today. Today is the Lord’s Day and my day, too.