We truly have lost the art of treating our Sundays as our day of rest. Do you remember a time when Sundays were spent with the family around the table for a post-Sunday school roast lunch? Everyone would then fall into a food coma, rousing themselves around 3pm for a bit of gardening or reading or even watching the mid afternoon movie or a long game of Monopoly. Happy times. No expectations to DO anything. Nobody asked you at school on Monday what you'd done on the weekend. Because weekends were for doing nothing.
Here's something interesting I found on Wikipaedia:
Sunday as a day of rest
Here's some news...I was once a practising Mormon
We were raised Methodist, until my mother had us baptised into the Mormon faith. I was about 11 years old when I was baptised, and my siblings aged between 2 and 9. I believe Mum was attracted to the very family friendly ethic of the church back then, and certainly their stance on healthy living, and treating the body as a temple, aligned with her own ideas, having been raised on a farm.
For we children, whilst we objected to not being permitted to drink Coca-Cola (due to the caffeine content), attending church was more about the social aspect than anything, and we lapped up the opportunity to spend time with church buddies as often as possible. Youth Group figured large in my own week, and Stake Meetings were an opportunity to check out the boys and girls that might be our future Beaus. We had special Church outfits, always a pretty dress for we girls, never trousers, and always pretty shoes. Hmmm. I wonder if this was when my obsession with shoes started! We were all encouraged to dress and behave like young ladies and gentlemen, and we all treated Sunday as a chance to look our best.
I am no longer a practising Mormon, but I learned enormously from our active time in the church. I believe that ultimately Mum drifted away from the church due to their stand on not allowing certain ethnicities to bear office. This did not sit well with her, and we, and the church, parted ways. I understand that this belief has now been rescinded, and I wonder if Mum were here, whether she would have returned to the fold. Either way, I think she would be proud of the lessons we learned, and retained from our years spent as active Mormons.
The examples set for a lifetime
We loved the example set by the Dads in our church, as we had grown up without a Dad. The Dads were all smiling and gentle and involved, and had many, many children. We seven were a small family compared to some! Mum was welcomed into the hub of the Womens Ministry, and added to her already impressive basket of home life skills. This set a precedent in our own expectations of how Dads and Mums should behave, and anyone that any of us dealt with in our adult life whose behaviour conflicted with this example, was promptly ejected. It also allowed us to grow and become good and gentle and involved parents.
Another habit that contributed to these expectations was Family Home Evening. Every Thursday, was marked by a visit from the missionaries in our area. They were always cheerful, fresh-faced Americans, who regaled us of tales of living in a place that we all believed was Disneyland personified. In truth, they all came from similar backgrounds to our own, and their families had made great sacrifices to allow them to embark on their mission. We loved having them around, and they loved being around us. I think they saw in our Mum, the traits of their own Mothers, who I am sure they missed greatly.
Ultimately, we learned that being a good person, started with being good to self and loved ones. It meant eating well, and refraining from consuming food and drink that would be detrimental to health in the long term. It meant valuing Mothers and Fathers and your own children above others. It meant exercising a strong will and learning to say no when peer pressure reared it's ugly head. And it meant that many experiences in life, whilst uncomfortable at the time, can teach us much about ourselves.
Fast Day and it's benefits
One thing I did not enjoy, as a growing teen, was Fast Day. In stark contrast to the feasting of the Sabbath in the Jewish faith, for one Sunday a month, we abstained from the first two meals of the day, and the money saved, was donated to the Church to support the needy. We also abstained from watching television, listening to the radio, or gallivanting with friends, spending time in our bedroom with our bibles (ha!), enjoying quiet contemplation. Truthfully, I think Mum was the one enjoying the quiet contemplation with seven of us to care for. We kids, having been to Church, and without breakfast or lunch in our bellies, were inclined to get a little fractious! There wasn't too much reading of bibles, and a bit more of poking each other, trying to get a rise out of the siblings with whom we shared a bedroom. But out of respect for the ritual, we had our familial debates in hoarse whispers instead of shouts. Come sundown, Mum would serve a simple meal. Often crepes with lemon and sugar, with huge mugs of Milo, or sometimes the traditional Sunday Roast. We would find that despite having missed breakfast and lunch, that we couldn't possible eat any more than we usually would. A lesson in itself.
Fast forward (no pun intended) forty-something years, and I now see the importance of Fast Day in the scheme of our family life. We learned that hunger is universal and can happen to anyone. We learned that going without would not kill us. We learned that eating after a fast was a whole, new, sensory pleasure, that did not involve gorging ourselves. We learned that normal hunger is nothing compared to ongoing hunger, and how that must impact the truly needy (unlike our family where we didn't have a lot of money for consumerist pleasures, but there was always, always, food on the table). We learned the value of charitable giving, even though we were not a moneyed family. We learned that that quiet contemplation, even the enforced kind, was a skill born of practice, and this was a wonderful discipline.
A President of the Church of Latter Day Saints, has been quoted as saying:
"What would happen if the principles of fast day and the fast offering were observed throughout the world? The hungry would be fed, the naked clothed, the homeless sheltered. ... A new measure of concern and unselfishness would grow in the hearts of people everywhere."
These days of course, this line of thought, translates to Challenges aplenty, run by various organisations, both Christian and Charitable, that advocate abstaining from food, alcohol, office-wear, hair, and shaving, instead using those things, or lack thereof, to raise money. Many folk jump on board once, or perhaps twice in their lifetime, or even once each year, and feel they've done their bit. But as suggested, what if this were employed as regularly as Fast Day?
Truly, the sky would be the limit.
Truly, the sky would be the limit.
Putting lessons into practice
Failing the ability to resurrect Fast Day in our household,(mostly because my husband and daughter did not grow up with the concept as I did), once a month (or more often if I can), I content myself with serving two meals on a Saturday and Sunday, a late brunch and an early dinner. Nobody even notices. I make sure that the brunch is substantial and served at around 10am, and stretch everyone out for the evening meal, till about 7pm, allowing some fruit salad and tea mid afternoon. It's good for our waistline, and similarly, reminds us that being a little peckish, is actually something that helps us enjoy the meal before us. Similar to my childhood experiences, missing one meal, does not mean we overindulge at dinner. In fact, we often find we crave a lighter meal, and sleep more deeply as a consequence.
The weeks I do this, I donate pantry items to the equivalent value of that missed meal (perhaps $10-$20), to the Foodbank bin outside my local supermarket. You see, the principle is the same. To support the less fortunate in our local community. How that is accomplished doesn't matter too much.
The ritual of a slower day
On these days too, we have a quiet, restful schedule. This fulfills the second intent, which is to promote rest and reflection, and opportunity to contemplate our spirituality. My husband composes music (surely a God given talent), and my daughter studies or reads for pleasure. At her age, reading for pleasure includes Shakespearean plays, and the classics such as Little Women, Emma, and The Crucible. She learns greatly from exploring these tomes, as opposed to the usual teen reading. I spend a little time reading, be it Bible or spiritual writings, sewing or crocheting, allowing myself a quieter, gentler day. We Mothers are not always good at this, so an enforced easy day, does me good. It's acknowledging my own human frailties, and saying yes, it's okay to rest now. This gives me time to generate little pretties to donate to a local teen mothers support group. Tiny crocheted hats and hand stamped muslin wraps, rinsed in home made wool wash to soften them, are heavenly to Mums and babes who do not have too much in their life that is bespoke.
The result of these restful Sundays, is that we arise on Monday morning, fresh and ready to face the week ahead. In stark contrast to students who arrive on Mondays weary from family outings, teen parties, sporting events and general socialising, our daughter is rested and eager to learn. We feel at peace in mind, body and spirit, and handle the work-a-day week with more grace and patience.
Even if you are not religious, there is something to be said for revising how you schedule your Sundays. Is it worth trying to treat one Sunday a month as a quiet day? A day for rest and reflection? A day to enjoy family time without having to do so with extended family or friends and acquaintances? Could you go without one meal a month, ongoing, and donate to charity? The feel good factor of doing so over a lifetime, far outweighs a once a year 'challenge'.
What do you think?
Were you raised in a particular spiritual faith?
What lessons did you learn?
...Mimi...
