Loving God, may your Spirit meet us in this moment. And may this time of connection with you bring us spiritual nourishment. May those who are weary find rest. May those who feel weighed down find their burdens eased. And may all find renewal, revival, and restoration in your love this day. Amen.
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Today is the 84th day of Pastor Dave’s sabbatical leave (yes, I counted). And my own sabbatical begins in just a couple of weeks. So, I thought it would be a great day to talk about rest! For me, this season actually feels like it has flown by in some ways. But I hope this time has felt a little slower for Dave and truly has brought him rest, renewal, and inspiration for his continued ministry with us. And I am sure he will return with some stories to share.
In today’s brief scripture lesson (which is unique to Matthew’s gospel), Jesus says to any who need to hear it, “Come to me, all you who are weary… you who are carrying heavy burdens… I will give you rest.” It was a word of compassion and an invitation to restoration.
Jesus knew what it was like to be a little sleepy. He also knew what it was like to be bone tired and burned out at times. He knew what it felt like to be weighed down and worn out by the woes of the world and the suffering of people around him. He knew the burden of injustice and inhumanity borne by so many. And he understood the universal challenges of simply being human.
I imagine that many times, as he was teaching, Jesus looked out over the faces of the crowd with empathy in his heart and saw their fatigue, saw the evidence of their struggles. Many of them were people who worked hard jobs and long hours just to survive and take care of their families. And their ability to make ends meet was far from certain. They were weary people.
For those who are tired (which is all of us at some point or another); for those who are weary and worn out (physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, all of the above) an invitation to rest sounds like salvation. “I will give you rest” is a much-needed message of hope and healing.
It was this way for the ancient Israelites too. At Mount Sinai when Moses shared the news that observing the Sabbath (taking a whole day each week for rest and worship) was not only an invitation, but a God-given commandment, it was a radical revelation. For those who had been enslaved, a day off was unheard of. They had been bound to what Old Testament scholar, Walter Brueggemann, calls Pharaoh’s “production-consumption economy.” They produced, day in and day out, primarily so that Pharaoh and his cronies could consume. Making bricks for Pharaoh’s many building projects kept them especially busy.
This mandate to rest was a message of restorative justice for those whose labor had been exploited. It was a word they needed to hear. You don’t need to live and labor endlessly for Pharaoh anymore. It was God who created you (not Pharaoh); God who calls you into relationship, delivers you, and invites you into abundant living. You don’t exist just to work. Sometimes you get to just exist, just be. And that is enough. You are enough. Maybe we all need to hear this same message from time to time.
The Mosaic Law took this idea even further and instituted a sabbatical year for the earth itself. After six years of production and farming, the land was to be given the seventh year to rest. Fields were to lay fallow, allowing the soil to recover. Naturally occurring produce was to be consumed instead and whatever happened to grow was considered communal property for all who needed it. This sabbath for the land was also an invitation to faith that God would provide and to trust that there would still be plenty of food to go around.
According to Leviticus, after seven sabbatical cycles (forty-nine years), the fiftieth year was to be a Jubilee year. Jubilee was another year of rest for the land as well as time to re-set and re-balance the economic system. Debts were to be forgiven, indentured servants were to be released, and property was to be returned to ancestral inhabitants if it had been transferred to other owners. Part of the message was that everything ultimately belongs to God and that people are tenants and stewards whose ownership is always temporary.
It’s a lofty aspiration! Unfortunately, from a historical perspective, there is little evidence that the Jubilee year was ever really practiced (at least on a large, widespread scale; perhaps there were smaller expressions of it). But the vision of Jubilee can still encourage us to consider how our economics might better reflect God’s sabbath priorities for both workers and for the earth itself.
This commitment to sabbath within the Jewish tradition is the foundation underlying Jesus’ invitation to rest. For those who are weary, those who are feeling burdened, the practice of sabbath-keeping can be a step in the right direction toward rest, healing, and bringing life back into balance.
Regular restorative rest is something we all need, of course. But we have probably all experienced that during some seasons of life and in some circumstances, it can be hard to simply get enough rest, and it can be hard to regularly practice sabbath-keeping.
So, I wonder if it might be helpful to expand our notion of sabbath and think of sabbath-keeping as something that can be practiced in many forms.
Finding little moments throughout the day to briefly rest, breathe, reset, or pray in silence can be mini-sabbaths. Trying to get a good night’s sleep (when it’s possible, even if it isn’t long enough) is a daily practice of sabbath-keeping. Observing a day of sabbath (to the best of our ability) is the traditional weekly practice. But if it’s hard to get one whole day all at once some weeks, perhaps there are ways to find some longer chunks of time to observe sabbath throughout the week (like an hour at church on Sunday morning for example) or a quiet morning or evening when you can manage it. And vacations, summer breaks, retreats, time off to recover or heal, downtime to simply rest are all periodic sabbath-keeping practices.
What does sabbath-keeping look like for you? What works? What brings you rest and restoration? What helps you connect with God’s presence in meaningful ways on your own or in the company of others? How are you weary? And what might rest look like for you?
Personal prayer, communal worship, meditation, intentional time with God in whatever way is natural to you are all good places to start if spiritual rest is what you need.
How about when you are physically tired? How do you find some form of rest that works for you?
I’m not much of a napper. I’ve often found that naps just make me more tired. According to my mother, when I was about preschool age, I nicknamed myself the “no-nap kid.” But if power-naps work for you, take one! Or (if you’re like me) and an afternoon cup of tea or coffee and an earlier bedtime is possible some days, do that.
Sabbath-keeping can be active too. Emotional and mental weariness can sometimes be alleviated with a little movement. Exercise, time in nature, hobbies, creative expression, play – all can be practices of sabbath-keeping. I know for myself that a walk or time outside, even if brief, can work wonders.
Speaking of walking, I’ve come to think of sabbath-keeping as pacing. What pace is sustainable for the long-haul of life? How does our practice of faith help us find and practice a good pace for our best daily living?
This is something we have to figure out for ourselves, I think. And we may need to adjust our pace along the way. That’s okay. Certainly, there are times when our pace may need to speed up through a particular season of life, but then perhaps a slower rest-break down the road might be in order. We also need to respect the pace others set for themselves.
After his invitation to rest, Jesus continues, “take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Jesus offers to help lighten the load; to help us carry whatever it is we are carrying. He isn’t promising that life will be easy. But he is suggesting that deliverance from some burdens is possible.
One of the implications here is actually that the life of faith itself should be freeing and inspiring, not burdensome. Amen to that! The yoke was a well-known symbol for religious observance Jesus’ Jewish tradition. An easy yoke is a life-giving spirituality that lifts spirits. So, if religious practice is onerous rather than liberating, a shift is needed. And if religion leads people to guilt, shame, or other negative, spiritually deflating places that weigh us down rather than leading us toward greater love, deeper compassion, joy, hope, and the possibility of healing that buoys us up; then a shift is needed.
And when we do discover that a shift is needed, we might also need to examine the unnecessary burdens we could be putting on ourselves (or on others). It’s great to have goals and visions and big ideas for our lives, our careers, our families, even our church. But do we sometimes expend too much time and energy trying to measure up to some unrealistic standard that either we or someone else has set for us? Are we striving for a good, meaningful, love-filled, faithful life? Or are we spinning our wheels trying to measure up to someone else’s definition of success?
An easy yoke is also one that is shared, not only with Jesus, but also with others who are moving in the same direction, plowing the same field if you will, trying to create soft and fertile soil where seeds of love can be planted, nurtured, grow, and nourish others.
So, if you’re feeling like a solo ox pulling a heavy plow all by yourself, remember there are many buddies, partners, and co-workers to be found!
Part of finding the rest we need and practicing sabbath-keeping is remembering that we don’t have to carry everything by ourselves.
We can share our burdens with God in prayer – at any time, in any place. In silence. Out loud. In writing. In sighs when we don’t have words.
And we can share our burdens with one another. It is such a gift to be truly heard. Your listening ear might just help someone find some needed rest; you never know. Someone else might do the same for you. I know I’ve experienced this. Perhaps you have too.
Part of why we’re here on this earth, part of the purpose of community is to help each other carry our “stuff.” We cannot always lift another’s burden entirely. It’s not always possible. But a kind and encouraging word, a card, a prayer, a visit, an act of service, a ride to the doctor, a casserole, a cup of coffee… those are the kinds of things that can help lighten the load and remind one another that we aren’t walking this journey alone.
Jesus promised rest for the weary and burdened. That’s all of us at one time or another.
So, pace yourself. You’re traveling along just fine. Enjoy the journey. And when you find yourself weary, may you find a beautiful place to stop and rest, to observe sabbath, and give thanks to the One who loves you just as you are. Amen.