At the same time, I am not a heartless bastard. I suspect that a fair number of our beloved readers have not darkened the door of a church or synagogue since the day their parents carried them in and introduced them to God and to God’s family. There, I have said it, I am not trying to stuff God down the throats of a single one of you good people.

By the same token, I do believe that in the present instance we may all -- be we members of a faith community or the most rabid agnostic or atheist on the face of the planet Earth – learn from the Judeo-Christian tradition and its story concerning the creation of the universe. If you have not familiarized yourself with the calendar of the World Equestrian Games now being held in Aachen (the dressage portion thereof, specifically), you may be lost in contemplation of the fact that there are no new scores posted, no juicy tidbits about riding daring-do, no photos of gorgeous horses in all their splendor.

This article’s religious character and the paucity of dressage news from Aachen are grounded in the same fact: the need for rest. The book of Genesis tells us that when God had completed six frantic days of whipping up the mélange we know as the created order and when he had inspected the whole splendid concoction declaring it to be “very good,” “he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had done.”

Granted, it has been a mere three days since the games were declared open and, of those days, only two of them have seen competition. But what a two days they have been! Scrumptious rides. A roller coaster of emotions for the riders and the fans alike. Scores piled up to the sky. Some individual egos dashed to the Earth below. And the journalist beheld it all and he declared that it was “very good.” And on the next day he rested.

The beginning of Ruth’s and my Sabbath rest took us to a lovely meal in a courtyard alongside the “Dom” (cathedral) of Aachen. Near the entry to this eatery stands (I expect only for the duration of the WEG) the monk promoting a nice (if not terrific) abbey beer from nearby Belgium. To the tonsured brother’s habit have been added two pieces of riding gear. The helmet I can understand as some of us who may (only on occasion, mind you) participate in the fruit of the grain a bit more than our feeble heads can bear could use the protection of such headgear. I prefer not to speculate on the arrangement of the halter as it gives the friar an air of S&M kinkiness. The less said, the better.

Our Sabbath respite continues on Thursday. While the contenders will be putting their heads together with the coaches whilst storing up physical and emotional reserves for the remaining two days of competition, we dilettante onlookers will be shopping, sleeping late, and anticipating the thrills that lie ahead. In our case, Ruth and I will be enjoying a splendid meal in the company of one of the leading equestrian journalists from “the land down under” (no, silly, NOT Australia but rather its kissing cousin, New Zealand), Ms. Joan Gilchrist. Rounding out our gallant party will be a premier photographer in the employ of Aachen’s redoubtable newspaper (Die Aachener Zeutung), Herr Wolfgang Plitzner. (Nearly the Deutsch equivalent of Mary and J. J., but with a bit more hair upon his chin than either.)

Suitably refreshed we will return to the labor of love which is ours, reporting upon all things equestrian. It is the best answer I know to the question, “What did God do on the eighth day?” He threw himself back into those things he loves doing the most. With fervor he continues to devise new pleasures for himself and for us, his creatures. He sets challenges for horse and rider. He provides the wherewithal to surmount those challenges. And again he beholds the wonders of creation (including a third place finish by the dressage team from the USA!) declaring it all to be “Very good!”