Being a Septuagenarian and Naps

I never in my life ever thought about taking an afternoon nap.  But over the past few months, find it to be a trending benefit.  Is this common among other septuagenarians? My curiosity has lead to never hearing of such a thing as  MetroNaps!  Well, I suppose it’s probably commendable, in a way, that in New York city, the city known for “never sleeping” is now taking naps.  This project began at Carnegie Mellon University in 2003 by providing a chance for over-worked employees, shoppers, and travelers to put their busy schedules on hold. It seems the goal was to fight workplace fatigue that workers in Manhattan were having and has seemed to be meeting the need, demonstrated by its spread in cities across four continents. The weary are offered a state-of-the-art sleep pod designed to maximize the invigorating effects of a brief rest. Appropriately, the gift of napping is also givable. I notice that "Nap Passes" could be purchased by JetBlue for stressed-out travelers.  Well, it still seems alI too odd buying a "pass" for a family member, friend or colleague for one of their septuagenarian birthdays. 

In somewhat fashion the subjects of my 74 years busy life and irritable calendar has perked my interest in Naps. In fact, I’ve noticed that busyness is the common denominator most folks my age have developed. Trying to stay up with the young folk?  But staying overly busy has also dipped or dripped into the Babybooms life by what I see in the marketing tactics of products, from smart phones to portable meals. Everything is meant to improve demanding lives, like mine (or at least making the promise that all of those “devises” will break the chains of busyness or make it more comfortable).

I’m reminded of an editorial in the New York Times, way back in the late nineties which offered a proposal to counter these chains that bind folks like myself to clocks, iWhatevers, messaging measures, e-mails and all the rest, 24 hours a day. The suggestion, which Douglas Rushkoff, the author, admittedly referred to as radical, was to set aside a day, and in setting aside this day, to also set aside everyone’s electronics. Calling readers to take a day to refocus and reorder, he was urging the world to give itself permission to take a full day off. "Maybe the ancients didn't pick the number seven out of a hat," he reasoned. "Perhaps they understood that human beings can only immerse themselves in commerce for six days at a stretch before losing touch with anything approaching a civic, social, or spiritual reality."  I’m find it’s more difficult than I thought to find an advocate promoting such ideas, such as Rushkotts now days, well into the twenty first century.  Is it, I ask myself, because most folks have come to believe we can’t afford too?  Socially, emotionally, intellectually, financially? What about spiritually?  

I do find the book of Exodus recounting this notion also, though it is made clear it is not Rushkoffs idea or anyone else’s. I’m looking at the twentieth chapter, where it says "For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but He rested on the seventh day." While each of the six days of God's labor was pronounced good, God chose to set apart one day out of the seven, pronouncing it holy, something other, something set apart. In the form of a commandment, God then tells the people to keep it that way. Something about the seventh day was not to be forgotten. But more than rule or ritual, I’m reading eleven chapters further, that it was to be a sign between God and humanity for generations to come, "so you may know that I am the LORD, who makes you holy." Wow! Just seeing and understanding that!

But isn’t that just like me? Sunday was always a “day set apart,” when I was in early age. Without excuse because that's what people in general seemed to do. But after centuries of living with the command to rest, it seems to have been a struggle to see resting on the Sabbath as anything more than a command. I wonder because I read in the New Testament the recording of where Jesus found opportunity to remind the crowds, "The Sabbath was made for humankind, not humankind for the Sabbath."

As I sit here daydreaming of sleep pods and power naps, I realize that I evidently need that reminder again and again. What if the seventh day is a gift, a nap pass—a gentle invitation? I suspect if I were to give this elder’s mind and body rest seriously, I might discover that it is also a powerful sign between God and me. It would surely be a day set apart from appointment books and pressing schedules to remind me that the most pressing aspect of my life is that I am a creature made at the hands of not another client, another appointment but ANOTHER. Over my life span I am becoming more and more aware that who I am is most authentically realized and most dynamically lived out when I am  resting in the presence of God, sleeping like Lazarus in the bosom of Abraham and the care of a Father who guards me by day and night.  Passages like Psalm 121have been so helpful in this respect.

I don’t know if urban power-napping will eventually pass from the scene altogether but I do believe, the universal longing—and need—for rest may be far more important than most folks might realize.  If I were a couple of decades younger, coming to know what I know now, I might have dawned the entrepreneurial hat.

Thank You, Father, God for providing the gift of insight and giving it at the time You desire, knowing exactly when I need it.  How I love the gospel message that I have just read where Jesus says to me: "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Convict me by the Holy Spirit to slow down long enough to consider Jesus words, remembering that rest is not only a luxury, but that it is also a need. That I might remember that the labor of God is far more significant than my own. That I might remember—and rejoice—that You, the God who watches over me neither slumbers nor sleeps.