It does not equate to rest, really. Even at Sabbath—and I might as well admit that my scheme of averaging the times of sunset for this latitude in order to have a consistent entering of Sabbath is limiting and a little lame—as it approaches the time of the candle lighting [8:45 p.m.], and as I wish and hope and pray Shalom for you, it is not rest.
It may be rest, but it is much more.
Grace, surely it is grace—an acceptance of God’s glorious, GLORIOUS! grace. It is making me weep just now . . . to think of it, and to share it as it has been shared. It is both in hand and ethereal, a Graceful Ghost.
Hope, yes hope is a part of Peace too. A comforting, calm connection. That is a part of it also, like Il convegno. It is a song without words. It is a miracle, like that Haydn symphony, #96. It is joy like Jupiter. It is a waltz along the Danube, and morning, noon, and night in Vienna. It is a trio sonata, a holy trinity made holy by the Trinity. It is . . .
It is simply and profoundly Peace.
Shabbat Shalom . . .
Photograph “Let it Flow” © 2018 Timothy Waugh