ON THE SEVENTH day of Christmas my True Love sent to me seven swans a-swimming.
“Six days you shall work… the
seventh you shall rest.” That’s the
biblical principle at work all throughout the Old Testament. It’s the law that those of Jesus’ time looked
to with which to abide. And what is ever
more perfect about this particular principle was that it abided with the
principle of seven — the number of divine perfection, totality and completion.
But seven, the number designation
for divine perfection, isn’t the
number for perfectionism. Note the
subtle distinction. God’s perfection is
pure and right and never better. Our
perfectionism takes a good thing and
makes it wrong through making too much of it — bending it into the shape of
idolatry. And the principle of rest puts
paid to perfectionism, because the perfectionist can never allow themselves to
rest — there is always more to do to make a thing perfect.
God’s gift to us in the number
seven is principally related to our lives: our work.
God gave us six days to work in; to
feel justifiably satisfied in what we’re able to contribute. But as much, and
if not more, he’s given us the seventh day — the blessed Sabbath principle of
rest — for sustenance of life, for recovery, for revitalisation, and never more
for enjoyment of God himself. In
Sabbath, we not only rest from our work, and allow our big and bothersome
burdens to swan away, we delight in our relationship with the Lord.
At Christmas time we think
particularly of Sabbath — time to draw aside from life, enjoy time to reflect
over the year gone and the one coming, spend time with family, and mostly to
recall reminiscences of the Christ-child born that two-millennia ago.
But all too often we can arrive at
Christmas day having limped to the finish line because we’ve attempted to balance
far too many burdens and it can seem like we’re not six days from the last
Sabbath, but sixty-six. And, for many of
us, that’s true.
What gift is our True Love giving
us in this Christmas season?
It’s the gift of the Father’s
Son. It’s the gift of a message of
simplicity. It’s the gift of a reminder
of dependence — that God is worthy of our reliance. And it’s the gift of knowing that while we’re
blessed to work, we’re destined for rest.
God’s greatest practical gift is
the gift of rest — that we might take time to find God and delight in him once
more. And what a great contrast — the six
geese a-laying (working and producing) with seven swans serenely a-swimming
(the picture of rest).
On the seventh day of Christmas my True Love sent to me seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, five golden rings, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtledoves and a partridge in a pear tree.
© 2015 Steve Wickham.
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