"Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. six days you are to labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord your God."
Exodus 20:8-10

I remember Overton Park in Memphis as a magical place. On Sabbath afternoons my parents took us for walks in the forest of old-growth oaks and hickories. We searched for crawdads in the creek. We fed the ducks. I remember flying kites there, swinging on the swings and eating watermelon. Summer evenings, we enjoyed concerts at the band shell. There was an art academy set in a sweep of lawn, and on the park’s north side, the zoo. For a city kid, there was no better place in the world than Overton Park.

I remember one other aspect of life in Memphis in the ‘50s and early ‘60s. It took forever to go anywhere. There were no freeways. When the first section of freeway opened to traffic, it was one of the seven wonders of the world–four lanes wide, no traffic lights. It felt like flying.

The master plan called for a beltway around town and a cross-town expressway as part of Interstate 40. The beltway was the easier right-of-way to acquire. The east-west route through the established neighborhoods in the heart of the city progressed more slowly. The greatest challenge was finding a way through or around a band of grand homes running north and south in the center of town–right across the projected path of the cross-town expressway. (In Memphis, as in most places, you did not bulldoze the homes of the wealthy.) There was one obvious gap in this roadblock of fine homes: Overton Park. Fortunately for the planners, while there were exclusive neighborhoods north and south of the park, on both the east and west sides there were working- class neighborhoods which would present little effective opposition to an expressway cutting through.

There was just one problem. An elderly woman in town with a lot of money didn’t want the park desecrated by an expressway. And she went to court.

Nearly everyone I knew was outraged by this woman’s opposition to the park. Memphis desperately needed an expressway. And the park route was the most obvious, least expensive, and most politically feasible. Figuring it was just a matter of time before common sense prevailed, the state moved ahead with construction. They built the freeway to within a couple of miles of the park on the east, and purchased the right-of-way and demolished houses right up to the park border.

The court battles dragged on for 20 years. The park won. There is a gap in the interstate in the middle of Memphis. Interstate 40 is routed around Memphis on the northern beltway. Most of those who 30 years ago thought the old woman was crazy, now realize the wisdom of her opposition to cutting up the park with an expressway. When they take their grandkids to the zoo, they’re glad it’s not bordered by a thundering highway. It’s good that the view from the art academy north does not feature fences, exit signs and passing semis. And it’s right that when you golf or take your kids for a walk in the woods, you hear birds, not traffic.

Memphis still needs a cross-town expressway, but the city would be immeasurably poorer if it had allowed an expressway to cut through the heart of Overton Park.

The idea of using the park’s open space to improve the transportation infrastructure of Memphis was rooted in historical precedent. When the city wanted to build an art academy, it was cheaper to site it in the park than to buy more land. And art seemed to fit the purpose of the park. The park had long housed the zoo. And the animals seemed an appropriate accompaniment to the woods and ponds already there. Then there was the fire station. The wealthy home owners in the area had insisted on better fire coverage, and they were not about to sacrifice one of their fine homes. No one would miss half an acre of woods. So the city sited the fire station on the southwest corner of the park. And if it hadn’t been for the elderly woman and her lawyers, pragmatists would have bisected the park with an expressway.

Open space in a city must be fiercely defended or it will be used for “more productive” purposes. Without champions to stop it, the press of development will occupy every square inch, leaving the city terribly impoverished.

Sabbath is like a park in time. It is intended by God as a tranquil open space in the frenzy of our lives. But like open space in a city, without constant vigilance it will disappear. Adventists believe we have been called to act as guardians of this park in time.

The idea of a weekly holy day (whether Sabbath or Sunday) has disappeared from American society. In 2000, in Seattle, the Boeing Company proposed a floating workweek in which work on the weekend would be treated like that done on any other day of the week. Any set of 5 days would be paid as a regular workweek–Monday to Friday or Wednesday to Sunday or Friday to Tuesday. It would all be the same. No more time and a half for work on Sabbath or Sunday.

In most Christian churches, Sunday is regarded as a convenient day for church attendance, but not as a holy day. There are a few voices among American Protestants lamenting the loss of the Sabbath (Sunday.) And John Paul II issued a strong statement about the sacredness of Sunday. But these are isolated voices in a larger cultural trend to fill up every available hour with “productive” busyness.

Nearly every adult I know needs more time—more time for work, for business, education, shopping, home and auto maintenance. We don’t have enough time for a Sabbath–whether it is Saturday or Sunday. The Sabbath needs a champion as much as Overton Park did.

It would be silly to argue that a park is the most important need of the city. Does a city need parks more than roads, a water system, courts or fire stations? The city needs all of this and more. And it would be silly to argue Sabbath is the most important need of modern contemporary society or the contemporary church. But while Sabbath is not “most important,” it is a vital constituent of Christian spiritual life.

Parks require community protection. We make rules: No freeways. No fire stations. No Taco Bell. No dogs off-leash. No wood gathering. Of course, every rule has exceptions. The park sign reads, “No flower gathering,” but who will complain if a child picks a dandelion bouquet? We would oppose the construction of a McDonald’s but welcome the services of an ice cream cart on the Fourth of July. An expressway would destroy the park, but paved roads make it easy for families to gather in the picnic grounds.

There are Sabbath rules: No work. No hockey matches. No changing the oil in my car. No house painting. No TV news. No hiring others to work for me. To generalize and modernize the Sabbath commandment: On Sabbath quit your struggle to secure your place in the world. Instead, rest in the security God offers. Stop your struggle to make money, earn grades, win the championship, beautify your home or fix your car. All these things are necessary. You have 6 days to do them. On Sabbath ignore your failures and inadequacies and achievements and successes and give attention to God’s accomplishments and promises. And remember the Sabbath is not just for you but for all whose lives and work are under your direction.

Fixed boundaries and consistent enforcement are a necessary condition for the preservation of the special nature of a park. And it’s the same with the Sabbath. The only way for us to enjoy its blessings is for us to embrace the firm boundaries set in Scripture. If God merely gave us permission to take some time off, most of us would say “Thank you,” then explain we are just too overcommitted right now to take any time off. So God commanded us to take the time off. He ordered us to stop our important tasks and take 24 hours for fellowship with him and with our families.

The frenzied pace of our culture is pressuring us to build multiple freeways through the few open spaces left in our lives. The requirements of commerce and personal achievement threaten to completely dominate the human landscape. Don’t let it happen in your life. Keep the freeway out of the park, and not just for yourself. Our persistence in park-tending will ensure that the woods, zoo, duck pond and picnic tables–the tranquillity–remain available for our children, grandchildren and neighbors. Our stubborn Sabbath keeping serves to preserve a priceless sanctuary, an irreplaceable park in time, for generations to come.