And I will give you rest . . .

I just finished one of my favorite spiritual disciplines, the one to which I am most committed. If I had a denomination of my own it would probably be a sacrament.

The Sunday nap.

Even God rested on the Sabbath after that first six day work week.   And Jesus often slipped away by Himself to pray . . .at least that's what He must have told His disciples, since that is what is in the gospels.  I imagine He lay his  Head down for a few minutes from time to time and enjoyed a snooze, after praying of course, even if he had no particular place to lay His head. Apparently Jesus had a knack for the nap.  In today's lectionary reading from Mark 4 He was napping  in a boat during a storm which was strong enough to scare a bunch of tough career fishermen. He seemed a little cranky when His disciples woke him up.  (according to Matt Smith of Taylorville UMC, services at 9 and 11 every Sunday, just off Highway 69, Tuscaloosa,  in his sermon this morning)

I had to look a little harder to find evidence of the Holy Spirit's endorsement of this discipline.  I had to take a few liberties, but I found it in the story of Pentecost in Acts 2:3:

^" They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest . . ." 

Who am I to argue with a unanimous endorsement by the Holy Trinity?

Consequently then, my Sunday nap is a Constitutional Right, a Holy exercise of my religion, which should not be abridged as I pursue my happiness in slumber.

As many spiritual practitioners will tell you, sometimes it is helpful to have a particular place to exercise spiritual disciplines.  A desk in a back room for study. A chair on the deck for prayer.

I nap religiously on my sofa.

And, as in other spiritual disciplines, it is advisable to use such aides as may enhance the experience.  A desk with books, commentary and a Bible for study.  A candle or chime for centering prayer. A cup of coffee for almost any discipline.

A golf tournament on TV is the perfect aid for my discipline of slumber.  The occasional swoosh of the swing of the club, followed by the tap of the ball.  The quiet smattering of applause.  The dulcet tone of the announcer's voices.  It is perfect.

Not as perfect as the weather channel used to be.  I don't know who updated that cheesy weather channel soundtrack that was played constantly before they went to live programming, but I wish I had a copy of it. It was auditory Ambien.

But, we can get too much of a good thing.  A friend of mine offers a gentle criticism sometimes.  "We can't be so heavenly minded as to be of no earthly good."

So, it is time to get up and get ready for the week to come. Refreshed and renewed.

As Jesus told his disciples who kept nodding off in the Garden of Gethsemane.

"The hour has come . . . let's go."

There you have it.  A one hour nap.

Almost a commandment.

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