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Saturday, October 17, 1998
For Latter-day Saints, the Sabbath `Day of Rest' Can Be the Hardest-Working Day of the Week
ROBERT KIRBY
The Sabbath is supposed to be a day of rest from earthly labors. For most of the reasoning
Christian world, rest means whatever relaxes -- fishing a quiet mountain stream, visiting old
friends, reading a novel, or puttering in the yard.
Sabbath rest is a relative term for Mormons. It varies between slowing down life to make us
more cognizant of God, or working like a fiend so that, unlike non-Mormons, we pray for
Monday to come so we can go back to work and relax, even if it's in a rock quarry.
A lot depends on how many kids you have, and how many (or which) church callings you
perform. If it's a lot of both, chances are you are way more nuts than obedient.
Some LDS Church callings are more labor-intensive than others -- bishop, Relief Society
president, Elders Quorum, nursery leader, deacons' adviser, to name just a few.
I don't know how it is in other wards, but in mine the bishop works like a field hand on
Sundays. Don probably fantasizes about the day he will get released and can engage in activities
more conducive to Sabbath rest, like sky diving or racing stock cars.
If you are one of the unfortunates who has to hit priesthood executive committee meeting,
bishopric meeting, correlation council meeting and welfare meeting, in addition to your normal
church meetings (with an occasional fireside tossed in for good measure), Sunday is probably the
least restful day of your entire week.
However, it does turn your heart to things spiritual. It makes you long for the good ol' days in
Egypt, when all God's chosen people had to do on the Sabbath was drag around blocks of stone
the size of houses while Yul Brynner beat them with a whip.
In Utah, the letter of the law (enforceable in some areas by the cops) says the Sabbath begins at
midnight on Saturday. After that, you cannot smooch your date, buy beer, jackhammer your
driveway, watch sports, or do anything that may alert your neighbors to the fact that you are evil.
On some Sundays, even chewing food is prohibited.
In my house, we start the Sabbath early. Like, oh, Thursday at 6 p.m. That's about the time the
women who live here start doing their hair and deciding what to wear.
As the lone holder of both the priesthood and a Y chromosome in our house, I don't get to use
the bathroom at all for 48 hours before opening exercises. Consequently, the only visions I ever
get on Sunday are the ones brought on by advanced uremic poisoning.
It's worse for my neighbors, who have to fight their kids into church clothes. A Sunday
morning spent in a yard-to-yard search for LeJohnny's good shoes that he wore yesterday
stomping worms, and left near a sprinkler head all night, rarely puts a parent in the mood for
church.
In small Mormon families (ones that can fit into a single minivan), it's not that bad. In bigger
families, including families who convoy to church, and are asked to bring their own bread
allotment for the sacrament, it's a nightmare.
I noticed this last Sunday when I spotted the Gottfredson twins (the third set) in church. Not
only were their shirts on backwards, they each wore only one sock, and their shoes were on the
wrong feet. Meanwhile, Sister Gottfredson had smoke coming out of her ears.
If you ask me, a lot of work goes into having a day of rest.
Salt Lake Tribune columnist Robert Kirby lives in Springville. The self-described
``OxyMormon'' welcomes mail at P.O. Box 684, Springville, UT 84663, or e-mail at
rkirby(AT)sltrib.com.
Page Modified October 17, 1998