Monday Meditation
queer sabbath & the feast after resurrection
Dear Substack Community: It’s Monday, and that means that most of us are back to work, including me! Typically, pastors take off on Mondays, and after Holy Week, have a day off on a Monday is nice, but I flex my days off and try to take Fridays off, but that doesn’t always work out for me. We hosted all the new members who joined the church yesterday and invited community members for the pot luck! We had over 20 people at our house celebrating Easter! It was a really wonderful way to celebrate the work of rising together! Now, here is my Substack for another possible world!
Paz, —RCE+
✨Monday Meditation: Queer Sabbath and the Feast After Resurrection
Yesterday, we rose.
We sang, we wept, we re-membered.
We proclaimed that Love still lives, even with wounds.
We stood in the tender defiance of resurrection.
And today—
we rest.
Today is Easter Monday.
A sacred pause.
A breathing space.
A queer kind of Sabbath
where rest is not a break from resistance—
it is resistance.
Tricia Hersey, founder of the Nap Ministry, reminds us that
“Rest is a portal.”
Not a reward, but a right.
Not an escape, but an ancestral strategy.
Today we enter that portal,
not to numb, but to root.
Not to withdraw from the world,
but to remember we were never machines.
Sabbath, queered, becomes a radical dismantling of capitalist time,
a reorientation to the sacred rhythm of breath and body,
a refusal to earn our belonging.
We rest
in a body that does not need to perform.
We rest
in a God who is not in a rush.
We rest
in the truth that resurrection is not an event—
it is a process
that needs room to unfold.
And in that unfolding,
we remember: joy is a technology.
adrienne maree brown says:
“Pleasure is a measure of our freedom.”
So today, we let our joy be fugitive.
Not flashy, but fierce.
Not naive, but necessary.
We laugh. We stretch. We eat.
Feasting, in the Black Radical Tradition,
is a holy act.
A gathering of the scattered.
A communion of flesh and story,
testifying that we are still here.
And that, beloved, is queer Sabbath:
A refusal to rush toward usefulness.
A reclamation of bodies as sites of delight.
A feast that says, “We belong to each other.”
We don’t rest to return to work.
We rest to remember we are worthy—already.
We don’t feast to forget.
We feast to fortify.
So on this Easter Monday:
Nap like your life depends on it.
Laugh like joy is your inheritance.
Feast like the tomb is still cracked open.
And remember—
Love didn’t rise alone.
We are all still rising.
One deep breath at a time.