About once a month I have a recurring meeting on my calendar. That meeting is “Circuit Meeting,” which is a meeting of the 7 nearest churches that share membership in our denomination. A couple years ago I was wrestling with my attendance at this meeting. It didn’t “do” anything. We weren’t working on anything together as a circuit (historically, some circuits would decide on circuit-wide missions), we weren’t doing any continuing education (my internship/vicarage circuit would work through books together), we weren’t even having worship together (historically again, in even earlier times these meetings would be the only way that pastors were communed because we weren’t sure about pastors being communed by lay people in the regular service). So as I sat down to wrestle like Jacob with the fact that we were not “doing” anything, God grasped me by the hip socket and said, “this is Sabbath, Jay.” (if you don’t get that hip socket reference, it’s Genesis 32, and we’ll read it this Sunday). 
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Lutherans are crap on the subject of Sabbath. In fact, most Christians are. We expect to be doing something or having something done to us on Sunday. We want some measurable progress in what we know or how we feel or some other metric. In order to accommodate our need for measurable progress, we turn Sunday into work either for ourselves or someone else (but rarely for God).
That’s what I did with circuit meeting. Circuit was either a failure because I wasn’t bringing enough to it or because the programming was all wrong. But I didn’t address the real failure, which was a failure to see what Circuit was supposed to be – rest. Not even enjoyable rest, but rest. And yes, like the tantrum that certain children of mine throw when they are told they are going to nap, I don’t like to rest. But it’s good for me.
You don’t have Circuit meeting every month. You have church. And you may resent that we have church. Or you may resent that we have it weekly. Or you may really like that we have church weekly, but for all the wrong reasons. Newsletter articles are bad places to diagnose that for you, but I’ll just leave it up to you to think about that possibility. So consider what it is that you like (or don’t) about church, and ask yourself if rest is at the center of that, and if it isn’t, then maybe we’ve got some stuff to do. This is Sabbath. You don’t have to like it, but you do have to confront that it is there, and that God may actually know better than you. And that might just be a good thing.