by Terrie Dopp Aamodt
“As the hour of sundown nears on this Friday evening, a calm settles on campuses wherever students and faculty worship their Creator on the traditional Sabbath. One of those campuses is Walla Walla College, from which this station operates each day. The work of a week is ended; the campus is quiet. The rest brought by a full day of worship is signaled at the west setting of our sun. Student and teacher enter the hours of a welcome repast anticipated since the west setting of the sun a week ago. Our wish for our listeners is that you join us in the spirit and, as you will, the acts of worship during the Sabbath hours. And may these moments of inspiration be to us all re-creation of mind and body and spirit, and may He be pleased with worship befitting One who cared enough to live, and die, and to live again.”
With these words, Loren Dickinson’s voice and the strains of “Day is Dying in the West” welcomed the Sabbath for many generations of students tuned to kgts-fm at Friday sundown. Although kgts today broadcasts in too many geographical areas to share a common sundown time, the spirit of those words still infuses the practice of Sabbath worship at Walla Walla College. That moment of peace at the end of a busy Friday afternoon signals a shift of gears for students, faculty, and staff. The busy workweek of academic life is a striking reminder of why we need Sabbath and why it is such a blessing.
The Sabbath is a blessing first of all because it means ceasing from our preoccupation with the anxious need to accomplish and produce. For many, the Sabbath hours mark a seeking for a quiet place, a place to rest. I have learned, though, that “quiet” and “rest” can have many different meanings on a college campus. I still remember a Sabbath rest I had during the 1979-80 school year, my first year of teaching. I came home from my office on Friday afternoon, went to bed, and woke up 24 hours later. Usually the Sabbath rest reaches deep into our souls, but sometimes the needs of the physical body take over.
I so look forward to a relaxing, restful Friday evening that sometimes students’ biorhythms have been a mystery. I’ve been reminded of that on several weekend jaunts to the Walla Walla Valley Academy Lodge in the Blue Mountains with the English Department Pegasus club. I have marveled at the students’ ability (and desire) to stay up much longer than I, singing and talking. The same tendency is apparent on campus during Afterglow, an entirely optional but popular follow-up to Friday Vespers. I have come to understand that this Friday night unwinding is part of students’ process of entering another space, the space of the Sabbath. And I’ve noticed that when the Sabbath day arrives, the students really are in another place, a place where they enjoy worship, food, and fellowship, a place where time almost stands still for a few hours, where anxieties and pressures seem dim and distant.
Ceasing and seeking quiet and rest, though, are only a part of what Sabbath is about. The day is also about celebrating and giving thanks for God’s creative power, of which the Sabbath is a memorial. Celebrating takes place on a large scale when the college community gathers Sabbath morning with the choir in full voice, punctuated by brass or strings, and with Kraig Scott’s organ work leading the entire congregation to singing accomplishments beyond the furthest imagination of most. When the final note of the opening hymn fades away, Pedrito Maynard-Reid’s vigorous “amen” booms out from somewhere in the congregation. Surely God is in this place.
For many, celebrating God’s creation includes part of the day outdoors— Whitman Mission, Rooks Park, South Fork, and the Blue Mountains are favorite destinations. Depending on the time of year, one might be rewarded by hearing elk bugle, seeing a cougar (honest!), or following squirrel tracks across a snowy meadow. Many students, faculty, and staff are experts at “heading for the hills.”
Celebrating the Sabbath can also involve other kinds of activity: joining a singing band, collecting food for the food bank, or participating in the outreach of the Friday night Improv Church program in downtown Walla Walla. Giving away one’s spiritual experience helps the blessings multiply on the giver.
Another key component of Sabbath is feasting. Not so fast. Does any Adventist mind and palate not leap instantly to thoughts of a laden dinner table at the mention of feasting? First, in a broader sense, the day is about feasting on the Word of God. The delicacies of heaven abound in the Sabbath School classes of John Brunt, Ron Jolliffe, Hollibert Phillips, Zdravko Stefanovic, Pedrito Maynard-Reid, Alden Thompson, Bruce Johanson, Larry Veverka, Loren Dickinson, Joe Galusha, and a host of other teachers who delve deeply into the Word. The Kretschmar Sabbath school class (held in the Physics Lecture Hall) shares its ministry with former students and others via recorded tapes. In a larger context, the entire church congregation is nourished by the Bread of Life in Pastor Karl Haffner’s sermons, which connect with a wider audience via Positive Life Radio and recorded tapes.
And now to the literal, physical food. While it’s true that some Sabbathkeepers might overindulge at the dinner table, food can play a very positive part in the observance of Sabbath. There is a lot of religion in a good loaf of bread, and there can be a palpable spiritual blessing when exquisite food is shared at a long potluck table, or by students invited to church members’ homes, or simply among good friends. The sensory memories of the palate can be a powerful part of the recollection of blessed Sabbaths, something well understood in Jewish culture for millennia. Adventists who temperately enjoy a Sabbath feast can be reminded of the future promise of sitting down with Jesus at the long table in heaven, partaking of both literal and spiritual food.
Sabbath observance also involves lingering. Jewish Sabbathkeepers, who reluctantly say goodbye to their Sabbath Queen at sundown on Sabbath, understand what this means. At WWC, “lingering” might mean staying on after Kraig Scott finishes the organ postlude at the end of the church service. Many church members bask in the blessing of the music and are reluctant to leave, wishing to hold on to the moment a little longer. Lingering can also take the form of marking the end of the Sabbath, as is done each week of the school year, with a concert or with special music and scripture in the church sanctuary. Lingering in the spirit of the Sabbath by marking its ending as thoughtfully as its beginning enhances worshipers’ abilities to keep the spirit of the Sabbath alive throughout the week.
Another aspect of appreciating the Sabbath is anticipating, looking forward both to the Sabbath to come and ultimately to our reunion with Christ in heaven. If we take the opportunity to appreciate the blessings the Sabbath brings, we will find resources of spiritual strength to sustain us through whatever the next week holds.
I recall listening to the worried concerns of one of my friends who had begun graduate work at a large state university. Both the faculty and the other graduates made clear their expectation that no one could possibly survive the academic rigor of the program without spending 12 or more hours a day on the work, seven days a week. I watched my friend feel anxious about how to measure up while taking an entire 24-hour chunk out of the week.
Yet that Sabbath rest did what it promises to do. It helped lead my friend to success and stellar academic accomplishment. Remembering the Sabbath, and appreciating its blessings, promises a deeper, richer relationship with God. W