“It feels so nice to finally stop and catch my breath.”

Can you remember the last time you had a moment like that? For some of us, it’s been a while. In our hard-working, highly productive culture, we can sometimes feel like exhausted swimmers swept downstream in a fast-moving river, fighting to keep our heads above water, gasping for air.

We get up early and stay up late. We never waste a minute. Our schedule is full, running here, running there, running late, running to catch up, running on empty, until we collapse in utter exhaustion.

Underneath the satisfaction of being hard-working, hard-playing people is a weariness that’s desperate for the pace to relent so we can rest and recharge. Deep down, we’re dying to slow down and take a break. We keep telling ourselves, Something’s got to give. Yet we don’t dare stop to take a breath because there’s so much to be done before the clock runs out at the end of the day. The relentless pressure to keep going can leave us anxious, depleted, and numb.

We know we weren’t made for this, but we don’t know what to do about it. That’s the genius behind the Sabbath, a word from Hebrew that means “stop” or “cease.” It’s the opposite of doing something. It’s the God-given gift of resting from our overcommitted, overbusy lives. It’s stepping off the relentless merry-go-round for a minute, or a day, or even longer.

This is so countercultural that it requires theological conviction and intentional choices. Resting purposefully is an act of rebellion, repentance, and faith.

Rest Is an Act of Rebellion

Stopping to rest is an act of resistance against the relentless pressures of a culture that worships productivity, accomplishment, and acquiring more. Resting regularly is countercultural and requires a decisive act of holy rebellion against the forces that keep us in perpetual motion.

We know we weren’t made for this, but we don’t know what to do about it.

Amid the Ten Commandments, God gave us a gift, granted out of his generosity and modeled by his example in Genesis 2. When he finished making the universe, he stopped and rested. Not because he was tired but because it was good.

Unlike the Almighty, we don’t have limitless energy. As frail and finite creatures, we get tired, and we need our rest. So, in the Sabbath command, God invites us to receive the gift of regularly stopping and resting.

Rest Is an Act of Repentance

How else can we properly respond to evil but through repentance? “Evil” seems like a strong word, but can’t our restlessness and industriousness often be vices disguised as virtues? Aren’t we fooling ourselves to think our never-ending busyness is good, especially considering how God commanded us to rest, making it both morally good and for our good?

It’s often easier to do things than to not do things. We love the sense of achievement from finishing a task. Resting is the opposite of achieving. It’s an act of receiving. Instead of feeding our need for control, it’s relaxing the reins and relinquishing our command of outcomes. Resting is turning away from the need to be needed, like when Jesus beckoned Martha away from being anxious and distracted with “much serving.” Instead, we can choose the “one thing” needed by joining Mary at the Master’s feet, receiving instead of achieving (Luke 10:40–42).

Rest Is an Act of Faith

The flip side of repentance is faith. It’s the motion of turning away from one thing toward something else. From work to rest. From going hard to full stop. From needing to be needed to feeling my neediness and receiving what we desperately need. This takes faith. It takes faith to stop working and accept the ego-deflating truth that we’re not necessary to the running of the universe, not even the small corner we inhabit. God is God, and we aren’t. What a relief! That means we can work and rest and trust the Lord with the outcome.

Resting is the opposite of achieving. It’s an act of receiving.

Trusting the One who holds all things together (Col. 1:17), we can know that if we stop working for a day, things won’t fall apart. Resting is trusting that the work can wait while we’re put back together. It’s recognizing that for the work to flourish, we need regular patterns of rest so we can flourish. Like a race car that needs regular pit stops to refuel and repair what’s worn, we need to take our foot off the pedal to be replenished. Resting isn’t laziness; it’s a strategic act of renewal necessary for doing the work that awaits.

It’s also an act of obedience to Christ, who tells us to come to him and find rest for our souls (Matt. 11:28-30). As we pause our work, let’s remember Jesus has already accomplished everything that’s needed. He does not tell us to work harder, but to take up an easy yoke and a light burden.