Yeah, we're under the 'law of freedom'. No, neither those 613 commandments of Jewish law, nor the 'fence' built around them, apply to us. It's wonderful and liberating and this Gentile can but marvel at it. Except on a Friday in Lent, with rain coming down by the metric ton.
I could start a car, operation of machinery and all, and go somewhere - but, no car. Sopping up water as it leaches up through one's own basement floor doesn't count for work: no way out of that one. Same goes for feeding the cats (cats; livestock - doesn't make a difference unless you try shearing them). My lunch of codfish cakes might or might not be kosher, but it's meatless. No dessert. Etc. Chocolate! Now! In round donut form!
Still, it's not irredeemable. The weather has a wild feel to it that Chesterton would love, and I just so happen to be curled up on the couch with a novel of his. The coffee is fresh, my housemates are out, it is a Day Without Work. I haven't had one of those in over a month, and since tomorrow I'm at the sisters' before heading straight to my job...
The sisters. The ones on the other end of the phone. Since I'm "resting" (Oops. Just oops.), I can come early - please - to make breakfast for the residents! Yes?
Yes. 'No' has never been a word in the Missionary of Charity vocabulary. They don't call expecting to hear it. It is 'yes'; it is obedience; it is always being ready to go - or come - in haste. It is getting up before dawn. Again. For now, though, I'm still enjoying my semi-Sabbath.
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