What is Sunday?

SEEDS:?Published on Monday, Aug. 1 in the York News-Times.

Sunday, the word derived from the old English “Sunnand?g,” and the Germanic take on the Latin “dies sol” or “sun’s day.”?

We’ve been wrestling with, and warring about, what to do with this day since the propaganda to lure us with the angel of Manifest Destiny was printed.?We wanted to believe our Sundays belonged firm and forthright, forever bound with our settlements.?We justified the way our Sundays included some, and excluded so many others.?These Sundays are somewhat of a strangling combination of government conquest playing on the genuine faith and utter desperation of many of our ancestors’ hearts and minds seeking a better life.??

This Sunday story is for those of us who grew up with Sundays deeply shaping our lives for generations.?Sundays were, and are, in their best form, where the good seeds of Jesus were meant to be planted amongst the many thorns piercing our diverse sides.?They are also where the cracks of time have started to allow the light in as we wrestle with ourselves and God’s place for us in the world.???

Sunday stories I wrestle with in my mind include watching Missouri Synod Lutheran farmers of German descent wrestling with their children they preferred were seen and not heard.??

Our family would typically sit in the middle section of pews on the right side of Zion Lutheran church in Thayer, Neb. now moved as a historical monument to Wessels Living History Farm – (may she rest in peace as she pursues her current role).?

Back when she sat on the edge of a tiny village where this story played out, I was six years old and would rarely try and cause trouble in God’s house.?Then there was that rebellious Sunday I took my dad’s hair comb and hummed on it like the harmonicas I had watched being played on the television show, “Hee Haw.”?I had learned the power of a sharp glance though and quickly tucked my makeshift instrument back into dad’s suit pocket.??

The discipline of church is an uncomfortable topic, as uncomfortable as old, wooden pews.?Usually, the sons got the brunt of it.?It played out something like the “wave” in Memorial Stadium.?One unruly lad would commit a minor indiscretion and farmer dad would jolt them up by the still growing tender arm and swat them fiercely on the butt.?Then another father also gained the “courage” to heave their son up in the air too.?Then there were those taken out (Lord help them).?Horrifically, if the “crimes” these young children committed were severe enough, after church came the brutal eruption of the executioner’s anger. Was it really the behavior of the kids or a massive release of farm stress? It was the latter I believe, and the out-of-control injustice haunts me.??

Of course, spankings or more severe beatings were not the only church activity I recall. There are good memories too.?My favorite was Christmas Eve.?We had glitter on our wings, soup was on at home, and the shepherds were watching their stuffed sheep flocks that night. For a moment, the world was right.??

I share all of this in an effort to shed light on this day that has a form of duality to it – both confounding and bringing comfort to my mind. Sunday is a day I feel both guilty and great about.?That’s why I felt moved to “stand up from the pew” and write the following, “What is Sunday?” thoughts.??

So, what is Sunday??

Is it an irritant, like relentless winds or a comfort when the past stops showing up to judge??

Is it distant sermons, hijacked by far off men cloaked to distribute the noose of guilt??

Or is the ever-present warmth of our loving Creator basking us with the miraculous, mysterious energy of truth?

Is it a day made for God by less than gods? Or a day made by those less than God, to feel as “gods?”

It is for sure a day that makes no difference to some, and too much difference to others.??

It can also be an annoyance, when it just doesn’t move the heart anymore, let alone the soul.?

At their best, Sundays are days of hope when the soul feels at home. A divine day marking the circle of all the days that belong to all God’s people (not just those in pews).?

What surpasses Sundays is our divine center – our hearts, our minds, and (although unseen), our very real souls. I am also sure that “man” can sure make something else of Sunday, something else that doesn’t belong there anymore.??

In about a week, we will live through this day as we have lived through for generations – born, died, and tried through.?Maybe we should learn through it differently.?Let’s share our Sunday stories, forgive, try to forget, and let some of them forever . . . go.