Sacred Symbols

I love symbols furnished with significance. There's a picture hanging from our loft that hovers over our living room. I saw it about a month before resigning from our church’s staff but decided to admire it from a distance because of its price tag. During my last staff meeting, my team presented me with the beautiful piece. Its presence reminds me that God’s goodness extends to the tiny crevices of our lives that include unuttered wants and wishes.

I love symbols furnished with significance. There's a picture hanging from our loft that hovers over our living room. I saw it about a month before resigning from our church’s staff but decided to admire it from a distance because of its price tag. During my last staff meeting, my team presented me with the beautiful piece. Its presence reminds me that God’s goodness extends to the tiny crevices of our lives that include unuttered wants and wishes.

God gave Israel sacred symbols that dotted their days and defined their seasons so that they’d believe. The sacrifices and festivals, offerings and in-gatherings, served as reminders that God selected Israel to make his name known, set them free from their bondage, and sanctified their souls. The most significant of these signs were the Sabbaths. God designated a day of every week and a year out of every seven to be set apart unto him (Ex. 23:10–12). These days provided rest and refreshment for the animal, foreigner, and Israelite alike. They portrayed God’s pattern of work and rest at creation. And they painted a picture of salvation.  

God concluded his covenant with Israel instructing Moses, “You are to speak to the people of Israel and say, ‘Above all you shall keep my Sabbaths, for this is a sign between me and you throughout your generations that you may know that I, the Lord, sanctify you’” (Ex. 31:13). This practice both demonstrated and deepened their commitment to God. It proved their faith and provided space to reflect upon and rest in God’s provision. Sabbath was both a physical symbol and a spiritual practice.

The same picture is painted in Hebrews when the writer explains, “So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his” (Heb. 4:9–10). Here Sabbath is a symbol of salvation. In Christ we rest from our work and resist any attempt to justify ourselves. He accomplished our salvation on the cross completely. And when we celebrate Sabbath, it provides us a picture of salvation and place for sanctification.

But if Sabbath is so significant, why do we fail to practice its picture? Perhaps we’ve relegated it to a quiet corner along with other old relics like fasting or fixed hours of prayer. In our high-speed world, it seems antiquated and inconvenient. When I get busy or stressed, Sabbath is the first thing to suffer. I don’t want to be still and listen to the unsettling longings lurking in my soul. I don’t want to demonstrate faith in God’s provision. I want to fix it myself. And so I work myself away, unwilling to let the primary fixture of Christian faith—the cross—prioritize my week.

So we’re starting to schedule a Sabbath in our house. Since we attend worship on Saturday evenings, Sunday mornings provide the perfect time for this sacred symbol. How do you create this space?