Growing up in a strict Scottish Presbyterian home meant that Sunday was a big deal. For some in my tradition, you weren’t even allowed to call it Sunday. It was properly called “the Sabbath” and it had to be kept meticulously: you didn’t watch TV, go out to play with friends, play sports or even read ordinary books.
After church and dinner, Sunday afternoon was spent reading “good” books or learning the catechism. When I was four years old I was so outraged at an ice cream van parked outside our house that I made my way to tell the unsuspecting vendor how wrong he was selling on the Sabbath. I still remember the bemused look on the poor Italian’s face!
Mature reflection has meant a less legalistic view of the Lord’s Day, but it has also meant a greater love and thankfulness for it. Moreover, there are sound arguments for the enduring place of a Sabbath, or Lord’s Day, in a New Testament context.
