In Praise of the Sunday Afternoon Nap

As kids, my four older siblings and I could never figure out how Mom and Dad could possibly prefer a nap to the beach on a gorgeous summer Sunday afternoon. We’d beg and plead with them to take us to the lake, which, now that I think about it, was only four miles down the road. Why didn’t we walk? I suppose because we needed supervision.

On one such Sunday, we thought we could charm our parents into taking us to the beach with a clever performance. We divvied up seven words among the five of us, stood in a row at the foot of Mom and Dad’s bed in order of age, and delivered the sentence that would go down in family history: “We want. To go. To. The. Lake!”

Everybody got their part correct and on cue. I’m sure it was brilliant. Probably the best display of unity we ever exhibited. To the best of my mother’s recollection, it worked. We did get to go to the lake later that day and other days, but never soon enough to suit us.

When I reached adulthood, I understood completely. I’ve been a Sunday afternoon napper for all my adult years, except maybe that brief window when our kids were too big for naps but too young to be left to their own devices. While on staff at my church, Sunday mornings often meant putting in several hours of intense energy. During those years, I’d go home from church like a toddler: too tired to eat but to hungry to sleep.

For the last decade, I’ve been living with a chronic lung condition which has made daily naps mandatory. While this somewhat diminishes the novelty of the Sunday nap, there’s still something delicious about crawling into my bed on a Sunday afternoon, any time of year.

When God created the world in six days, he took a day to rest—not because he needed rest, but because he knew we would. He also knew we’d be bad at it. We’d fill it with work. We’d use it to catch up on undone tasks from the week. We’d spend it doing things that did not restore our physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual tanks the way they needed. He deemed sabbath important enough to make it one of his ten rules for us: “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” I’m no Hebrew scholar, but the word comes from shabbath, meaning rest, and is also where our word “sabbatical” comes from. The Jews formed an entire set of extra rules (or “sabbatical laws”) around it, including giving the land a rest every seventh year. Jews and some Christians, like Seventh-Day Adventists, still observe sabbath on the seventh day, Saturday.

Sunday became “The Lord’s Day” for Christians after the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

During the reign of Charles I in in the 17th century, England passed “The Lord’s Day” Act, which made it an offense to transact business on Sunday. Canada adopted its own Lord’s Day Act in 1908. In the 1980s, the Supreme Court of Canada declared the Act an infringement on the freedom of religion and conscience. For many, Sunday has become just another day of business. By contrast, I know people whose childhood Sundays were limited to church, followed by long hours of complete boredom in the name of keeping the Sabbath—resulting in abandoning their faith altogether.

I won’t pretend to understand precisely what God had in mind for us by resting one day a week or dictate what that means for you. But I believe with all my heart that He gave ALL of his commands in our best interest, because the one who created us knows what we need for optimal health. We do well to pay attention.

Time for my nap.

Photo from Canva