InterVarsity

Published 16 Sep 2026

Notes from a Physicist Grandmother, Part 4: Keeping the Sabbath

By Catherine Hirshfeld CrouchA blog post Women Scholars and Professionals

An open planner with monthly calendars, handwritten notes, and colorful sticky notes.

What does “keeping the Sabbath” look like and can it even be done by those juggling demanding work alongside responsibilities at home? Dr. Catherine Crouch gives helpful reminders and practical advice out of her own lived experience observing the Sabbath in this final essay of the series.

For much of the time I have been at Swarthmore, every year or two, I have spoken at the Swarthmore Christian Fellowship large group meeting. The student leaders typically give me a topic they would like me to speak on, so for a while I thought I was giving many different talks. Nonetheless, clearly the Sabbath part was the most memorable of any talk, because when one of the senior student leaders introduced me to the group in the fall of 2018, she said “Professor Crouch is here to give us her Sabbath talk!” (Here is one version of the “Sabbath talk.”)

Keeping the Sabbath—setting aside one day every week in which you do not work, and instead worship, celebrate, and rest—is among the most countercultural things that a Christian in academia can do. Faculty, postdocs, and grad students alike, at least in STEM fields, feel the pressure to be working all the time, because there is always more to do, and because no amount of research results and publications is ever clearly enough. (The same is true of preparing courses, responding to student questions, or offering students guidance or feedback on their work.) And though it might seem hard to believe, these pressures don’t let up after tenure.

The Sabbath offers a weekly reminder that our ability to do our work—and everything else worthwhile in our lives—is a gift from God. Our very ideas, as well as the life and health that allows us to have them, are a gift rather than being the source of our reputation and value. The Sabbath offers the opportunity to rejoice in the good God who made us and the good things around us, both the natural world and the products of human effort. It allows us to contemplate rather than analyze. And finally, it is a way to declare with our lives that we entrust our work, along with everything else, to that same God. (We do have to remember that because the Sabbath is itself a gift of God to humanity, honoring it is not another way to achieve success!)

I have personally found that observing the Sabbath is essential to sustaining my life of faith, and I think that’s true whether in academia or in any other setting. For many, especially parents of young children, I think it’s also the hardest spiritual practice to imagine taking up. Here, I’d like to respond to questions students and colleagues have asked me throughout my 40 years of sustaining this practice.

I hate to admit it, but taking a day off every week seems completely unrealistic. For a student or professor, how is it actually possible?

It’s important to realize that we have to learn to keep the Sabbath. Learning this is the work of a lifetime, may take different forms at different life stages, and although it’s really good, it’s not easy. As well as urging Christian students and younger colleagues to keep the Sabbath, I also share that I am a “B+ Sabbath-keeper,” meaning that over my 40 years of following Jesus, I’m probably at about an 87% rate of Sabbath observance. I’ve had my share of weeks where I didn’t manage to stay on track, semesters where I took on too much, and seasons when unexpected demands arose on top of existing commitments.

So here are some illustrations from my own life, again to hopefully spark your own creativity. I began to observe a weekly Sabbath when I began to follow Jesus in earnest in January 1987, during my first year in college. Others in my study groups often wanted to meet on Sunday night. Sometimes I was able to persuade them to meet at other times; sometimes I observed my Sabbath from sundown on Saturday to sundown on Sunday. More substantial, but more hidden, was the need to make wise choices about how much I took on in any given semester; to plan ahead so that I finished my work in the six days I had for it; and to stay focused during my work time.

During my later grad school and postdoc years, there were no longer problem sets, and there were far fewer deadlines, but occasionally there were conferences to prepare for, grant proposals to submit, or collaborators who needed results or communication from me. I told all of my close colleagues and collaborators that I did not normally work on Sundays, and I would make sure that I took care of my contributions to shared projects in a timely fashion during the other six days.

I chose both my PhD advisor and my postdoctoral advisor carefully, in part for ways they fostered a healthy research group culture. I was careful to communicate clearly what I was committed to, to be diligent (one might even say compulsive) about keeping those commitments, and to communicate ahead of time and take responsibility on the (rare) occasions when I couldn’t provide something when I had promised it. Consequently, I do not believe this created any friction with my colleagues; on the contrary, they valued working with me. Some also expressed appreciation at seeing how I ordered my life to consist of more than just my work. Occasionally there was the opportunity to use scarce time on shared instruments, and although I attempted to avoid Sundays, a few times I had to rearrange my schedule in order to take my turn on the instruments on Sundays and observe Sabbath on another day.

Once I became a faculty member, there were Monday classes again, with not only my own success but that of my students depending on my being prepared. In this season, we also had our children to consider, so there was extra incentive for Sunday to be our normal family Sabbath. Thus, usually I tried to organize my work so that I was ready for Monday’s class before I went to bed Saturday, though I always hoped that circumstances would allow me a final hour on Monday morning to get my head back into my plan.

Now that I am a senior professor, I try to use my authority in ways that allow the possibility of Sabbath keeping by all. In the original Sabbath commandment, God’s people are instructed that the Sabbath is for all—including sojourners, servants, and livestock. I encourage those around me, regardless of whether they are Christians, to consider a weekly day of rest. On the first page of the syllabus of any course I teach, I state that one of my religious observances is that I don’t work on Sundays, and in appropriate situations, I encourage my students to order their lives so that they can take a day of rest on the weekend as well. I also structure my course syllabi so that long assignments are not typically due on Monday mornings, and do my best to give plenty of advance notice to students (and colleagues!) about projects so they can plan their work according to their own priorities.

During your Sabbath (or any other time), how do you avoid worrying about what you aren’t getting done?

Early on, this was a real challenge for me. It’s not easy to keep our minds away from our work, whether reviewing everything that’s coming up in the week ahead or worrying about what we aren’t getting done. I think that we scholars might be particularly prone to worry, as the same temperament and habits of mind that enable us to pay very close attention to every detail of a research project and to imagine a wide range of possible findings, also makes us susceptible to rumination.

First, don’t have unrealistic expectations that every time you observe the Sabbath, you will be blissfully at peace all day. Try to remember that choosing not to work is an offering of faith to God, even if you are worried.

Ultimately, to keep worries in check requires deliberately choosing to turn our minds away from fear or preoccupation and to focus instead on whatever we are doing in the present, or on the faithfulness and trustworthy promises of God. Sometimes I’ve found that it is sufficient to choose to move my attention away from my worries and back to what is happening in the moment. Often, especially if I’m awake during the night, more effort is needed, and I’ve found I need to read aloud the Psalms or other prayers that declare our trust in God. (As the only Psalms I have memorized are 16, 23, and fragments of a few others, many times I end up turning on the light, getting out of bed, and opening a Bible or prayer book.)

I do want to say that it gets easier, though slowly. After 40 years of Sabbath keeping, I now rarely worry about what I’m not getting done, and instead am just really grateful that I have this day to be restored. This is true even when I have a deadline looming.

A wooden serving board arranged with cheeses, sliced meats, crackers, and jars of condiments.

Taking care of little kids is not restful! At that stage, how did you approach Sabbath so it was not just a different kind of work?

Oh yes, I’ve experienced this too. Particularly when kids are in diapers, and when every meal is a mess, and especially if kids are sick or cranky, it can be really challenging for family Sabbaths to be restful! As with discerning calling, your specific Sabbath rhythms should match you and your family. Here are a few general principles, followed by examples from my own family:

Keep it simple. Although some people might like the bustle and joy of a full day of activities, I think it’s really important to not be rushed, especially when there are kids involved. When my daughter was in elementary school, she wanted every day to include “NIP time”, where “NIP” stood for “Nothing In Particular.” We always built plenty of NIP time into our Sundays.

Play, get outside, and enjoy the physical world. No one in our family is particularly good at team sports, but we made up lots of silly family games when the kids were babies and preschoolers (such as the “pounce game” and the “where’s Timothy” (or Amy) game). When they got older, we went to playgrounds, rode bikes, and when the weather wasn’t great, played board or card games. At every stage we hiked with our kids, at a pace and challenge level that worked for them, and always with plenty of tasty snacks. On car trips, when we ran out of conversation topics, we played word or alphabet games. (I still take note when I see a “Q” on a road sign.)

Choose activities that fit your family. Our family loves food and rituals, so one of our favorite Sabbath activities from when the kids were preschoolers through high school was Sunday afternoon tea. Inspired by a time that Andy and I went out to afternoon tea at a fancy hotel (during our frugal years, this was much cheaper than dinner out), we loaded the table with sandwiches, cheese or hummus and crackers, fresh veggies, fruit, and treats. My daughter made up fancy names for everything being served; as she got older, she made decorated menus. As both kids got older, they started to help with food preparation, and the food got more elaborate. Most importantly, after a Sunday afternoon tea, no one needed to cook dinner—at dinnertime people could have teatime leftovers or something else from the fridge.

Trade responsibilities. Diapers have to be changed, even on Sunday. But if one parent does a lot more diaper changing during the week, maybe the other can do most of it on Sunday. I cook most of our meals during the week, and when I cook, Andy washes the dishes. Sometimes on Sunday we switch.

Share ordinary family life with others: if you’re able to invite friends to join you, without creating for yourself (or your spouse) an internal obligation to do more cleaning, cooking, and without expecting your kids to be on their best behavior, do so! Even doing the same work when you can welcome others can be more refreshing, and if you invite people who can help keep your kids happy and occupied, you may find you actually enjoy hosting people! And remember that many people who don’t have children enjoy an opportunity to be with kids.

Again, don’t be overly idealistic. Sometimes Sabbath will not be what you hope for (that’s true whether you have small kids or not) and you may find yourself wishing to get back to the regular work week, when at least you feel like you’re in control and getting things done. Offer these frustrations to God as well.

How do you keep your obligations manageable, especially as a pre-tenure faculty member?

As students and faculty, we often feel like we have no choice about how much work we have to do. But we may have more control than we think. Students can choose which classes to take, which extracurriculars to participate in, which jobs to take on. Even if we as faculty do not have a choice about which classes to teach, we have plenty of choice about where to invest the time we spend teaching them; we have choices about what specific research projects to pursue and how to pursue them; and we usually have choices about what else to do other than teaching, research, and a baseline amount of assigned service work. But we do often benefit from help discerning which choices to make. In my field, and many others, professional societies offer excellent resources and mentoring opportunities about how to teach both well and efficiently, and how to develop a research program. Take advantage of whatever such resources you have.

I think the fundamental challenge for faculty arises when the optional things seem more satisfying, or more in line with our sense of calling, than the required baseline. This can manifest itself anywhere in our work—writing that creative, interesting assignment rather than continuing to use the solid and effective but less inventive assignment you used the last time you taught the course; starting a new research project that seems exciting and promising rather than finishing the current project whose results are sound but not groundbreaking; taking on the public outreach, mentoring, or leadership role that seems to offer a greater opportunity to live into a sense of calling than your core professional responsibilities. You may indeed be called to some of these “extras.” I encourage you to be patient and choose carefully which to take on, because it’s usually not possible to do all of them at once. Some opportunities will return yearly, or even more often, so over time you can do many, if not all, that are compelling. As you grow in skill and insight within your present core responsibilities, you may also be building the foundation for future opportunities in ways you can’t presently imagine.

To navigate these decisions, you may find it helpful to have a small group of trusted friends or colleagues who can help you choose which opportunities to pursue and which to say no to—and to help you remember that often, “no” decisions can actually be “not now.” One friend of mine refers to such a group as her “no committee”—she keeps a list of significant opportunities that she has to decide about and periodically checks in with them about which she is inclined to say yes to and which she intends to decline. Usually they tell her to decline even more than she would on her own.

Ultimately, I have found that keeping Sabbath has formed me in both practical and interior ways. On the practical side, the rhythm of Sabbath provides a structure for recognizing my limitations and making concrete choices for how to live faithfully within them. Beyond just my to-do list, my weekly enacting of my trust in God through these choices, watching him be faithful, and receiving the joy of rest as I have learned to do it, have helped me grow in trust, and thereby become more brave, and more patient.

A person tends plants in a leafy garden beside a lawn.

Imagine, listen, follow, trust

To follow an uncharted path is the human condition. Each of us must take up our own cross and follow Jesus on a unique road. To borrow from Mary Oliver, you and I must each decide what to do “with your one wild and precious life.” But knowing very few others, or no one, who has followed the vocational path you are trying to pursue both poses great challenges and offers rich graces. I’ve told my story and shared experiences from my life here in the hopes of helping you imagine and hear what God might be calling you to do.

I leave you with a blessing, following the epistle to the Hebrews: May the God of peace, the God who raises the dead, make you complete in everything good, so that you may do his will and inhabit his joy, as he does his good work in and through you. To him be the glory!

Books I have found helpful

There is so much more to say than I’ve written in these essays about spiritual formation in general and Sabbath keeping in particular. There is a truly vast number of books about the time-tested wisdom of the Church, and I have not read anywhere near all of it. It goes against every academic bone in my body to provide anything resembling a bibliography when I haven’t read everything there is to read on the subject. Nonetheless, because this is not an academic bibliography, here I list a few books that have been particularly helpful to me, in roughly the order in which I encountered them. (And I’d love to hear from readers about books they have found helpful for them!)

Frederica Mathewes-Green, The Jesus Prayer: The Ancient Desert Prayer that Tunes the Heart to God

Dallas Willard, Hearing God: Developing a Conversational Relationship With God

Martin Laird, Into the Silent Land: A Guide to the Christian Practice of Contemplation

Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love*

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath

Adele Ahlberg Calhoun, The Spiritual Disciplines Handbook

John Mark Comer, Practicing the Way (full disclosure: my daughter works for PTW and my husband Andy has done a number of podcasts and video interviews for them)

Kevin O’Brien, SJ, The Ignatian Adventure: Experiencing the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius in Daily Life. In 2025–2026, I went through the Ignatian Exercises with the guidance of a spiritual director as well as this book. (I feel responsible to add that just picking up the book and reading it is not a substitute for being accompanied and guided through the Exercises by a trained spiritual director—though reading the book may give you an idea of what they are like and help you discern if this major commitment of time and energy is for you.)

Eleonore Stump, Wandering in Darkness: Narrative and the Problem of Suffering

* Although I only read Revelations of Divine Love carefully after Into the Silent Land, I encountered it much earlier than any of the others as it is a favorite of a college friend, now an English professor, my longest friend among my fellow Christian academics.)

For more from Catherine Crouch, read the first, second, and third articles of this series.

 

Photo of Catherine Crouch

Catherine Hirshfeld Crouch is Professor of Physics and Department Chair at Swarthmore College, where she has taught since 2003. Trained as an experimental condensed matter physicist, she is an expert in pedagogical best practices for undergraduate physics education; her work on physics for life science and pre-medical students has received national attention and support from the National Science Foundation. In 2021, she was elected a Fellow of the American Physical Society for work spanning physics education research, curriculum development, pedagogy, and institutional leadership. She co-founded Swarthmore’s STEM Inclusive Excellence initiatives to expand support and resources for underrepresented and first-generation students in the sciences. She is a mentor to early-career Christians in academia through the Veritas Scholars program, and serves on the Board of the John and Vera Mae Perkins Foundation. Crouch earned her PhD. at Harvard University and worked with Eric Mazur as a postdoctoral fellow. She is married to Andy Crouch and together they are the parents of Timothy and Amy, parents-in-law of Sophia, and grandparents of Miriam.

Catherine Hirshfeld Crouch is Associate Professor of Physics at Swarthmore College, where she has taught since 2003 and was awarded tenure in 2009. Dr. Crouch has extensive expertise in both the optical properties of nanoscale materials and pedagogical best practices for college and university science. She earned her PhD. at Harvard University and continued at Harvard as a postdoctoral fellow with Eric Mazur until beginning her position at Swarthmore. She has published more than thirty peer-reviewed research articles and regularly involves Swarthmore undergraduate students in her work. She has also spoken and written about the intersection of faith and science in a number of settings including the Q conference and InterVarsity’s Following Christ conference for graduate and professional students. She is married to Andy Crouch and together they are raising their children Timothy and Amy.

00:00 / 00:00