And on the Seventh Day I Didn't Check Email

I work from home. This, for the most part, is a wonderful thing. For one, it means I can work anytime, anywhere.

 

But, ohmigod, it means I can work anytime,anywhere.

 

And this is not just something work-from-homers experience. Today, pretty much all of us can connect to the office 24/7. And we often do.

 

And while I know I kind of trash talked Shabbat the other week, now I’m here to say THANK GOD. (Seriously—good job, You.) I need a day where I am actually forced, under penalty of death by stoning, to not check my email.

 

The difference between not working on Shabbat and not working on Sunday (or, in Israel, Friday) is similar to the difference between eating kosher and dieting. For kosher-observers, while we may dream of cheeseburgers, bacon and a shrimp platter, most of us just aren’t going to go there. Eating nonkosher is not the same as “cheating on a diet.” It’s not a matter of willpower – it’s a matter of sticking to a guiding set of laws and a tradition that’s thousands of years old. So we say, “No thanks” to that chicken parmesan. Shabbat, too, is sacred. It’s not just a “day off of work.” It’s a Biblically-ordained day of rest, one of the Big Ten. So as much as we may want to check our email/watch Curious George/play computer games (depending on our age), we are not going to “cheat” on Shabbat. The answer is simply “No.” Like the (ironically nonkosher) hot dogs, we answer to a Higher Authority.

 

So Shabbat is a forced day of rest, a day off from everything. Including things that, in a bit of a paradox, could make our day easier and more restful. There’s more than a little irony in using the manual opener for our heavy “tris” (Israeli metal window shade/room darkener), working up a sweat because I am forbidden from doing the halachic “work” of pushing the “up” button. I get that it is strange to walk all over the neighborhood, pushing a stroller and dragging kids, because driving is off-limits. But I’ll take the no-elevator-no-car-no-button-pushing of Shabbat if means I also get the no-laptop-no-cell-phone-no-TV-ness of Shabbat.

 

Because I know exactly what my Shabbat would be if it was just a Saturday, just a regular day off. It would be a diet, and I would totally cheat. I would get up early, before the kids, to squeeze in an hour or so of work. I would have my phone close at hand all day, so no matter where I was, I could check email, Facebook and What’s App. My husband, too, would disappear into his office at home for a while, to catch up on his never-shrinking pile of emails. The kids would be like the Berenstain Bears and watch Too Much TV.  How do I know this? Because it happens already, on Fridays.

 

Let’s face it: We don’t really know how to stop. So God needs to step in and show us what “rest” is all about. He knows we can’t be left to our own devices—we need to turn them off. He gives us this day, Shabbat, as a day to unplug and connect to God, chicken soup and those other people who live in the house with us. Batteries—and chargers—not included.