Most units of time are based on natural phenomena. A day is one rotation of the earth, a month corresponds to the moon’s cycle, and a year aligns with the earth’s path around the sun. But a week? Well, that’s a different story—there’s no obvious natural reasoning behind it.
Ancient cultures, interestingly, had diverse interpretations of a week. In West Africa, for example, it’s four days, while Egyptians counted ten, and the Chinese had a system of fifteen days. This variation highlights how our understanding of time can differ significantly across cultures.
Back in the 1930s, the Soviets attempted to abolish the seven-day week entirely, replacing it first with a four-day week and then a five-day week in a bid to diminish religious influences. They pinpointed the right source, though: the seven-day week ultimately finds its roots in the Bible.
In Exodus, God instructs to work for six days and reserve the seventh for rest. This simple command carries profound implications. It applies universally and elevates work from a mere necessity to something of intrinsic value.
The Torah doesn’t say “you must work,” but rather acknowledges work’s significance, regardless of the results. Those engaged in volunteer work or childcare, for instance, still contribute meaningfully as long as they put in consistent and productive effort.
A poignant example is the life of Joseph, called “successful” in the Bible. Remarkably, he was deemed successful as both a slave and a prisoner, always with God’s support on his side. Yet, despite the importance of work, there’s a crucial need for downtime.
Shabbat, or the seventh day, serves as more than just a break. It’s a time to reset, reflect, and reconnect—almost like a sacred ritual. Jewish tradition refers to this time as “the taste of heaven on earth.” Yet, contemporary society sometimes swings to extremes.
For much of the 20th century, work was viewed as a necessary evil, highlighted in popular songs like “Heigh Ho,” and “9-to-5.” Advertisements from the ’80s and ’90s often portrayed the ideal life as filled with leisure—think traits like playing polo or sailing luxurious yachts.
Then, around the turn of the millennium, something shifted. Busyness became the new badge of honor. People started saying, “I’m busy” as if it were a compliment, which sometimes felt like a strange form of humble bragging.
I’ve found myself shortening “busy schedule” to just “crazy”—it’s crazy how busy life can get! But there’s no clear path down either extreme. Advocates for leisure need to recognize that research continually shows happiness at work is crucial for overall life satisfaction. After all, life feels pretty challenging if you’re not content with how you’re spending your working hours.
Recent studies emphasize that it’s possible to find purpose and enjoyment in nearly any job when framed correctly—a concept known as “Jobcraft.” For instance, research from Wharton revealed that hospital custodians who saw their roles as part of healing were far more fulfilled than those who viewed it merely as labor.
This perspective does illuminate our current situation: numerous studies indicate a productivity ceiling. The first major study on this topic dated back to World War I. A British committee highlighted the need for workers to have a Sabbath to recover from fatigue, confirming that without rest, productivity simply dwindles.
Fast forward a century, and research from Stanford University echoed these findings, pinpointing a key production threshold at 55 hours per week. Anything above that often leads to diminishing returns, which some might find intriguingly aligns with divine principles.
So, here we are—those who observe the Sabbath might work around 55 hours a week, taking the sixth day for preparation. It seems, perhaps shockingly, that God was indeed right.
A fulfilling life isn’t just about leisure or work; it’s about meaningful engagement for six days followed by a sacred pause on the seventh day. In essence, balance matters. It’s a blend of effort and reflection, and maybe that’s the takeaway we all need right now.
