Dearest Rachel –
It hadn’t crossed my mind until we were riding down from Galilee to the Dead Sea the other day how all-encompassing the observation of Shabbat is in Israel, in particular. I think I’ve mentioned about Shabbat elevators (which stop automatically at every floor, so that the observant aren’t required to press a button to summon it, thereby ‘kindling a fire’), and the fact that the coffee machine wasn’t working on the morning we left Ginosar, but there’s far more to it than that.
Yael describes the day as a time for family to be together, to rest and play. One can read, but one cannot write, as that would be considered work. Consider that for a moment; you wouldn’t be allowed to do your sudoku puzzles, despite considering that to be an entertaining diversion. I wonder how long you would be able to put up with that restriction before throwing your hands up and disregarding the supposed ‘commandment’ as enforced.
For my part (although you’d have a problem with it, too), the injunction hits hardest with its moratorium on using one’s phone or computer. As with the elevator buttons, it is considered to be similar to kindling a fire, and thus considered to be work. Never mind that I rarely actually do ‘work’ on my computer these days; the rules are the rules, and the definitions are the definitions.
Granted, perhaps I could argue that what I use either of these devices for is reading. If it’s acceptable to read using a physical paper copy of something, why is it forbidden to use electronic media? Am I answering my own question, or is this, like the chicken and cheese debate, one of those things that the rabbis would argue about?
To be sure, there’s something to be said for disconnecting oneself from one’s phone and one’s computer. Some of the stuff that we read, like the news, are as likely to be upsetting as not, and taking a break from them on a regular basis is probably just what the Sabbath was created for. They don’t call the practice “doom scrolling” for nothing. One would be well advised to back away from the practice now and again. And not just for one’s mental health; there’s something to be said about how our addiction to electronic media interferes with our ability to connect with the God who handed down the order so long ago – long before such devices even existed, or could be conceived of.
While I’m sure it’s not deliberate, it would seem that our hotel here on the Dead Sea has rather forced us to observe the Sabbath in this way to a certain extent. What wi-fi access it has is spotty at best – the only location with reliable access is in the basement, next to the restaurant (although once in the restaurant, the connection drops back down to nothing again) – and so the room is left quiet for a night, free from the sound of one video or another. I think Daniel may have gotten his best sleep of the night last night, and once I’d returned from the restaurant after uploading the videos from our trip down here, I slept pretty well, too.
Jesus insisted that “the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” We were never meant to be slaves to the rules, any more than we would otherwise be slaves to sin. Then again, if we have to be slaves to one or another – particularly since we can’t be trusted to rule ourselves – it’s probably best that our master not be an electronic one. Then again, I’m one to talk; I can’t get away from this thing for even a single day.
And with that having been said, honey, I suppose I should sign off, and try to take a little bit more of a Sabbath. Keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it. 
Letters to Rachel 