Sabbath for Others

As my three-month sabbatical leave winds down I’ve begun to realize that this leave has been as much for others – especially the people with whom I work – as for me.

Most of what I have read about Sabbath-keeping and sabbatical leave focuses on the Sabbath-keeper him or herself. Sabbath is a spiritual discipline that deepens one’s relationship with God and with oneself. Sabbatical leave is a time for renewal, reconnection, research, retooling, and reporting. Taking this guidance to heart as I stood on the deck of the USS Sabbatical nearly three months ago, with a gallant wave to those gathered to bid me a bon voyage, I shouted over the rail, “I am off to remember who and whose I am!”

The journey has gone well; I have, indeed, begun to remember who and whose I am. About a week ago, however, just as the Sabbath-going vessel began to turn its big floating frame toward the same shore I had left, a warm sudden spray of a wave broke over the bow and splashed me awake while I sat reading in my big red comfy chair. It was the third paragraph on page 167 of Jonathan Sacks’ fine book, The Dignity of Difference: How to Avoid the Clash of Civilizations (Continuum © 2002/2007 reprint):

What the Sabbath does for human beings and animals, the sabbatical and jubilee years do for the land. The earth too is entitled to its periodic rest.

Whoa! There is much good to be gained for human beings from adhering to the prescriptions for various lengths and sorts of Sabbath. But getting humans to take an extended Sabbath gives the world around them a much needed break from their own ever-imposing presence! NRGV (New Revised Gafkjen Version):

What the Sabbath does for Bill, his sabbatical leave does for the people with whom he works. They too are entitled to periodic rest from him.

As far as I am aware, I have good relationships with my co-workers. And we work quite well together as a team. I am also painfully aware that my extended leave has meant more work for most of them. But it makes sense to me that my extended absence has also been good for them, as individuals and as a community. They certainly need a periodic rest from my idiosyncrasies, eccentricities and ways of working that may foster tension or stress. Some of the areas in which I work have also needed some fallow time in hope of rejuvenation or redirection. And, just as this sabbatical sojourn has provided me with the strong reminder that I am not indispensible, perhaps those with whom I work have come to see that even more clearly as well (though I hope not to the point of dispensing with me!).

Systems thinkers would probably also suggest that these weeks that I have been asea on Sabbatical have given folks a chance to reflect (intentionally or not!) on my role in our office system and, more importantly, their own roles, which have likely been highlighted or changed by the absence of a member of the system. What gifts do we each bring to the team (system)? How do we aid and abet, or hinder and harm, one another? How might we re-imagine our various roles and do our various tasks differently for the sake of our common mission?

I am confident that when I return to work next week I will experience the truth behind the old adage, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Thanks to Sacks I now suspect that as my sabbatical ship reaches shore, along with those who gather to greet me on the pier I will also discover the power of a new one: “Sabbatical leave makes the whole team grow stronger.”