Few things show a commitment to a new way of living like dedicating an entire day to a faith. The Sabbath serves many roles. It stands as a public beacon that we are committed to something special. It serves to create space in our week for spiritual practices. Perhaps most importantly, it creates a regular time for us to come together as a community and worship.
Before going into some details as to what a Thanatist Sabbath might look like, I want to once again reaffirm that what I’m writing isn’t some canonical statement as to what the Sabbath should be. I’m just a single person considering some possibilities. My hope is that some day there will be others of us, and should that hope materialize, I expect such traditions will evolve both through discussion and practice.
Having said that, I’d like to propose something a little radical for our Sabbath–a third day without work. The first reason I might suggest this is that, as Thanatists, we deeply understand the value of our time. We only have a few precious days on this earth, and taking another day for ourselves, particularly if dedicated to spiritual practices that make us better people, seems entirely appropriate. To ensure that this day is a day of practice, rather than a long weekend, I might suggest we consider Wednesday for this additional day of rest.
We’re also uniquely positioned as Thanatists to drive a radical social change like this because death, as an existential tool, gives us the ability to see that the world we have inherited isn’t a world we have chosen, and in that seeing, to reconsider what might be better for us as humans. As we’ve already discussed, the world has changed radically in terms of our production per person and in the obstacles of nature left to overcome, and yet we still work as hard as we ever have. Perhaps we as Thanatists can help the world to finally use our increased productivity to lessen our work and provide the time needed for us to grow.
I’d like to go even a step further. The fact is that, for many, an additional Sabbath day simply isn’t an economic possibility. Those who propose a four-day workweek often come from a place of privilege where such a possibility could become a reality without undue economic hardship. As such, I might suggest that those of us who are Thanatists and also employers might consider it our obligation to facilitate this social change by offering our teams a paid day for spiritual practice.
As to what a day of practice might look like, I’d suggest taking the time to engage in a few of our already mentioned spiritual disciplines. First and foremost, a Sabbath is a day to break from our usual routines in order to reflect and reassess our past week. As such, beginning the day with a Death Trip and prayer seems fitting. I might also suggest three yet unmentioned practices in particular for this day.
One spiritual discipline that has long been out of favor in Western traditions is that of fasting. Fasting, however, is a powerful tool in our spiritual arsenal. As Thanatists, we are asked to focus our minds on something deeply unpleasant. This ability to bend our minds against our bodies’ natural inclinations is a key component to freedom, and no practice puts this conflict between mind and body into greater focus than fasting. The process of fasting itself also focuses the mind, and our entire being becomes more sensitive to itself. Finally, and perhaps most fitting for a day of collective practice, it enables us to suffer together in recognition that we all collectively suffer from the tragedy of death.
Another practice that has greatly suffered from our collective decline in religious practice is that of creating together, particularly through song and dance. I want you to imagine the number of voices that used to come together weekly, singing in unison, when traditional faiths had greater reach. Now imagine those millions of voices silenced. When is the last time you sang with others? When is the last time you heard a song designed not for your optimal listening pleasure, but rather so that it can be easily sung by us all? Such moments of coming together in creation are a deeply rooted part of our humanity that has been wrenched from our lives by secularization.
The final practice that I shall suggest for our Sabbath is another one that secularization has diminished, but even such a powerful social force as it, could not eliminate–that of feasting together. Nothing brings human beings together more naturally than food. And although we continue this practice on holidays, the weekly gatherings between extended family, friends, and in our case, believers, has largely come to an end.
A weekly paid day from work that we begin with self-reflection and reevaluation? A day where we submit our bodies purposefully to our wills? A day that ends with singing and dancing as we come together around a meal provided for us by our community? No doubt these are the ravings of a madman. No doubt such a day will never come. And yet, if we consider the individuals, the relationships, and the society that might emerge from such a weekly practice, perhaps we’ll realize that such a Sabbath is no greater madness than the collective isolation we call ordinary today.