Sleep as spiritual practice

I am becoming increasingly convinced that sleep should be considered a “spiritual practice.”

The Judeo-Christian tradition has long embraced the concept of Sabbath. The first Sabbath comes as early as the dawn of creation: “So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation.” (Genesis 2:3) The practice of Sabbath day becomes codified in the Ten Commandments: “Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy,” (Exodus 20:8) and “Observe the Sabbath day and keep it holy, as the LORD your God commanded you.” (Deuteronomy 5:12) Sabbath days, according to the Old Testament, served two purposes: they set aside a day to worship God (Ex 31:13-17) and rest for people, including slaves and cattle (Deut 5:14).1

Sleep, of course, is a form of rest. It’s a bit of a stretch to consider sleep as worship, although long sermons have been known to induce a snooze or two. I wonder what would happen, though, if we changed our paradigm of sleep. What if we approached sleeping as if we were entering church? Or to be more specific, what if we saw sleep as entering sacred space?

Returning to Biblical tradition, there are numerous examples of God speaking to the people through dreams. In Genesis alone, we have Jacob’s ladder to heaven (chapter 28), Joseph’s dreams of power (37), and Pharaoh asking Joseph to interpret his dreams. (40)2 Our faith stories tell us that dreams can carry divine messages.

Beyond the mythology, we know that dreams in REM sleep serve a healthful purpose. In our unconscious world, memories and emotions play out in the tableau of dreams. Although there is much we do not understand about the unconscious, some neuroscientists believe that dreams serve to cleanse our memories. Negative emotions associated with our conscious thoughts and memories are separated and subsequently get “washed away” during dreams, keeping us from becoming overwhelmed by bad memories. This theory would partially explain and affirm the credo that time heals all wounds. In any event, we know that dreams are necessary for mental health.3

Dreams are not the only health benefit of sleep. Our bodies have an incredible capacity for self-healing while we are in such a low-power state. Sleep has also been described as “the great leveler.”4 Everyone rich and poor, young and old requires time in this state of inactivity and vulnerability.

Unfortunately, 21st century upper-middle class American culture brings a fast pace and high expectation for lots of “doing.” It’s common for people to squeeze more “doing” in their days, cut into sleep time, and then compensate the next morning with caffeine. Children are not immune: when the instant messaging craze hit a few years ago, high school students reported getting less sleep, presumably because they were up later to message their friends.5 Christians are particularly vulnerable to sleep cutbacks. We pride ourselves on sacrifice and mission, so it’s easy to get caught up in our work at the expense of rest.

Christians would be wise to heed the words of one youth group member: “Nothing essential stops when I sleep.”6 Making time for quality sleep is self care, as it stabilizes our mental and emotional health. Sleep gives our bodies a chance to heal. In our dreams, we open ourselves to the possibility of revelation, perhaps even from the divine. We enter a vulnerable state, one that points to our dependence on God.

Sleep is a spiritual practice. Good night.

1 Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, F.L. Cross, ed., 3rd ed, Oxford University Press, 1997. 2 Rodger Kamenetz, The History of Last Night’s Dream: Discovering the Hidden Path to the Soul (New York: Harper, 2007). 3 Paul Martin, Counting Sheep: the Science and Pleasures of Sleep and Dreams (New York: St. Marin’s, 2004). 4 Ibid. 5 Peggy Kendall, Rewired: Youth Ministry in an Age of IM and MySpace (Valley Forge, PA: Judson Press, 2007), page 17-18. 6 Mark Oestreicher, Youth Ministry 3.0: A Manifesto (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2008), page 114.