All rest partakes, consciously or not, of the sabbath. But the idea of sabbath rest, consciously understood and accepted, becomes an unexcusing standard by which to judge our history, our lives, and our work. And so the unintended thought on a Sunday walk, the thought invoked by the sabbath theme, does not dependably lead to rest. By disfigurements that our time imposes upon consciousness, by scars of bad history that mark the land, by sounds of machinery dominating the air, the mind may be returned to themes of loss, estrangement, and sorrow. That one is sometimes able, among the disturbances
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