A reflection for the journey of faith — sometimes we all need a little light for the way.
What do you do with a bunch of old sermons? Turn them into a blog – refined, condensed, made for today’s world – I pray that it will speak to you today! Or feel free to use it as a little inspiration for your own message. It’s FOR YOU! (Scroll down for previous posts)
Based on Sunday, July 5 – Sixth Sunday after Pentecost Scripture Readings
Zechariah 9:9-12
Psalm 145:8-14
Romans 7:15-25a
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
The Consequences of Never Resting
There is one word I have never forgotten from my years working as a chemical dependency counselor at a housing shelter in Minneapolis.
It came from one of the custodians who worked in the shelter. We would occasionally visit, and one day he smiled and said, “I’ve got one word for you—consequences.”
He told me he reminded the residents of that word every day.
“Before you decide what you’re going to do today,” he would say, “think about the consequences.”
Simple – direct – and surprisingly wise!
The longer I worked in recovery ministry, the more I realized he was right. Every choice has consequences. Some choices bring healing, while others slowly wear away at our relationships, our bodies, our spirits, and our communities.
But lately I’ve been wondering if there is another consequence many of us rarely think about.
What are the consequences of never resting?
A Culture That Doesn’t Know How to Stop
If someone asks how you’re doing, what are the most common responses?
“Busy.”
“Tired.”
“I’m hanging in there.”
“Just trying to keep up.”
Those words have become almost a badge of honor. We celebrate productivity. We admire people who always seem to be accomplishing more. We carry our calendars in our pockets, answer emails late into the evening, scroll long after we’re ready for bed, and somehow convince ourselves that slowing down feels irresponsible.
The result isn’t simply physical exhaustion.
Many of us are emotionally depleted. Spiritually distracted. Mentally overwhelmed.
We’re connected to everything—and often present to nothing.
The consequences show up in our relationships, our health, our patience, our anxiety, and even in our ability to notice God’s presence.
Perhaps that’s one reason Jesus’ invitation in Matthew 11 continues to sound so refreshing:
“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”
Those words feel like cool water in a world that never stops moving.
Sabbath Was Never About Following Rules
For years I thought this passage was simply about finding comfort in Jesus.
It certainly is that—but I think it’s even more than that.
Jesus is speaking in the middle of ongoing debates about the Sabbath. Religious leaders had surrounded God’s gift with countless rules and expectations until the day that was meant to bring freedom had become another burden to carry.
Jesus redirects everyone’s attention back to God’s original intention.
The Hebrew Scriptures actually use two beautiful words for rest.
One is Shabbat—the kind of rest that means to stop working. To cease. To lay down our labor. Like clocking out at the end of the day.
The other is Nuakh—to settle, dwell, or abide. This is deeper than simply taking a break. It is the rest that comes from feeling at home in God’s presence. It is the peace of sitting with people you love, walking quietly in nature, praying without rushing, or simply being still enough to remember that your worth doesn’t depend on what you’ve accomplished today.
Both kinds of rest are woven into God’s design from the very beginning. God rests after creation. Then God settles humanity into the garden—not merely to work, but to live in relationship with the Creator.
Sabbath has always been about both stopping and abiding.
Jesus Is Our Sabbath
One insight has stayed with me ever since I first encountered it.
Jesus doesn’t simply teach about Sabbath.
In many ways, Jesus becomes our Sabbath.
He invites exhausted people not merely to observe a day, but to enter into a relationship.
Rest is no longer something we have to earn.
It is something we receive.
That doesn’t mean we no longer need rhythms of Sabbath. Quite the opposite. Setting aside time to worship, to unplug, to breathe deeply, to enjoy creation, and to be fully present with the people we love are still holy practices.
But those practices aren’t another item for our spiritual to-do list.
They become ways of responding to the grace we’ve already been given.
Learning to Live Differently
The older I get, the more I realize that Sabbath isn’t laziness.
It’s trust.
Every time we stop working—even briefly—we are quietly confessing that the world does not depend entirely on us.
God is still God.
Creation continues.
Grace continues.
Love continues.
Perhaps one of the most faithful things we can do this week is simply to pause.
Turn off the phone for a while.
Take a walk without earbuds (or at least listen to something other than the news!)
Sit on the porch.
Read Scripture slowly.
Pray.
Share a meal without distractions.
Notice the beauty that has been there all along.
These aren’t escapes from the real world.
They are reminders of what is most real.
When Jesus says, “Come to me,” he isn’t offering one more obligation. He’s offering freedom from the endless striving that leaves our souls exhausted.
Perhaps the greatest consequence of never resting isn’t simply that we become tired. It’s that we forget who we are. We begin to believe our value comes from what we accomplish instead of remembering that, before we ever do anything, we are already God’s beloved children. Sabbath gently reminds us that our identity is a gift of grace, not something we earn.
The world will always urge us to keep producing, achieving, consuming, and hurrying.
Jesus offers something entirely different.
Rest.
And perhaps that is exactly what so many of us have been longing for all along.
God's Yes + My Amen 