A Rested Soul Is a Compassionate Soul
In the early 1970’s Princeton University conducted a study of its seminary students. All the students were familiar with the story from Christian scriptures about the Good Samaritan. This tale informs the law protecting people who stop to help strangers.
All the students were told that they had to travel to another building campus where they would be partnered with a fellow student to work on a sermon. They then divided the group into three. The first group was told that they had little time, and they should rush across campus. The second was told that although they were not rushed, they needed to arrive promptly. The third was told that they could take their time and there was no sense of urgency regarding their arrival.
On their way to the other building, all the students confronted a stranger who appeared desperate and in need. Here is what the study revealed. 63% of those who did not feel rushed stopped to help. 45% of the participants who felt slightly rushed stopped. And only 10% of those students who believed that they were running late offered help to the stranger.
There is an ethical dimension to not feeling rushed. There is a need to feeling rested. When we are hurried there feels little time to do anything else. There is little room for others.
The Torah commands, “Remember the sabbath day and keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath of Lord your God: you shall not do any work.” (Exodus 20)
Shabbat is an expression of our freedom from slavery. Time is a gift given to free people. Judaism sanctifies time. It values time because it restores the soul. Shabbat is a vacation for the soul.
In New York everything seems rushed. We laud efficiency and lament wasted hours and minutes. Time is something to conquer. How often do we complain about the traffic? Time is not restorative. We shout, “Can you believe the airlines? My flight was delayed for two hours.” We can never rest.
Our cellphones interrupt our meals. They intrude in our time with family. How many conversations are interrupted by someone who looks up from their phone’s notification and blurts out, “It’s going to go down to -14° this weekend!” People interrupt others midsentence to share news items. “Look who is mentioned in the Epstein files!” They become distracted from conversations and the person sitting across from them by their Instagram DM’s. Does it really matter when we find out such news (or if we really even need to know all these salacious tidbits)? We will know the temperature on Sunday as soon as we open the door.
We can never relax.
Judith Shulevitz writes, “The Sabbath prefers natural to artificial light. If we want to travel, it would make us walk, though not too far. If we long for social interaction, it would have us meet our fellow man and woman face-to-face.” (The Sabbath World: Glimpses of a Different Order of Time)
Perhaps the message, and import, of Shabbat is not so much about its seeming organization but instead about making room for others. There is only one way to discover this. It is about feeling rested. It is often ordinary people, not devout or holy individuals, who help those in need.
Put the iPhone down if not for the day, then at least for the day’s appointed meal.
Become attuned to the soul’s need for rest.
Breathe in the gift Shabbat provides.
And give your soul enough rest to help others.