Jesus Brings Rest

Hebrews 4:1-11

Sometimes life gets a little bit crazy. Ok, maybe a lot crazy is more like it. Maybe it’s a busy season at work. Or you’ve got a lot going on at home. Sometimes it’s the stuff we have to do that makes life feel a little bit out of control. At other times, it might be the emotional toll of a difficult period in life or an unexpected event. Or fear because of events going on around the world right now. But life definitely gets crazy sometimes.

2025 so far has been that kind of a time for me. It started last Thanksgiving, actually, when we were in Ohio for Sterling’s fall musical and then Thanksgiving celebration with my family. I stayed down there between the musical and Thanksgiving while Becky came home to work for a few days. I wanted to spend time with my 95 year old grandfather, who was in many ways a role model and hero for me … an example of the kind of person and man I strive to be.

On Monday night at about 9:30 he called down to me from his bedroom. He was in a lot of pain. We got him to the hospital where we discovered he had a kidney stone. Never pleasant. At 95 years of age … quite concerning. They did manage to take care of it, but the medical interventions began a rapid decline, and grandpa died in early February.

Mom called to give us a heads up that grandpa was declining fast, so Becky and Aubrey and I made an unexpected, quick trip to Ohio to say goodbye over the first weekend in February. We had one good day with him and then a day where he was actively dying. He passed away in the early morning hours the night after we got back.

A month later, I was preparing to head back down to Ohio for Sterling’s winter play when my dad texted to say that his wife of 27 years and my step mom, who had been dealing with dementia for quite some time, was nearing the end of her journey. Two days later he let us know that she had passed away. I went down a day early so that I could attend the funeral.

While I was on my way down on that trip, I got a call from Ruth that Lenda, our secretary and food pantry coordinator here for the 8½ years since we merged the two churches, who had been readmitted to the hospital, wanted to talk with me. I pulled off at the next rest area, and reached out to one of her daughters, who told me that that day wasn’t a great day for her to talk, and to try again tomorrow. I reached out again the next morning and heard the same thing. As I was preparing to reach out on Saturday morning, I got a call letting me know that our beloved Lenda had died. My grandfather, my step-mom, and Lenda had all died within the span of slightly less than four weeks.

It was definitely an emotionally taxing and quite busy start to the year for my family. As we, unbelievably, near the midway point of 2025, I spent some time reflecting this week on all that has happened – the losses, the ensuing changes and adaptations, new ways of doing things that were needed – my mind went to something that happened to Jesus’ disciples that’s recorded in three of the four gospels.

They’re in a boat out on the Sea of Galilee, traveling to the villages on the other side. And Jesus, tired from a long, intense period of ministry – teaching and healing hundreds, is asleep in the boat. And a pretty bad storm came up – we know it was bad because it freaked out his disciples, four of whom were experienced sailors – fishermen very familiar with the Sea and its weather patterns. Terrified, they wake Jesus up, and he calms the storm, after chiding them for being afraid – for not realizing that one who created the Sea and its patterns was in the boat with them.

There was another time when Jesus sent them ahead of them in a boat without him, and a great storm came up again. This time, Jesus DIDN’T calm the storm. He joined them in it – walking on top of the storm tossed seas to get to them. It reminded me that whether he calms the storms or not, he is always right there with us in them. That’s something the pastor who wrote the New Testament book of Hebrews, which is really a written sermon – wants us to remember. Whether he calms the storm or not – he is always with us in it. We do not need to lose our minds in fear. We must not turn back, turn away from him. He is right there with us. Turn with me to Hebrews 4:1-11.

God has promised rest to his people, and his promise still stands. But he’s talking about far more than just physical rest or emotional rest. He’s talking about a rest that is available to his people, regardless of the circumstances we face in life; no matter how turbulent the waters of life get.

He isn’t just talking about not being overwhelmed by frenetic activity, although people of God don’t need to live frenetic lives. Some times in life are busier than others for all of us, for sure. If you work in retail, or own a shop or store, you probably aren’t going to see your family and friends much, unless they work with you, from Thanksgiving to New Years. If you’re a CPA, you’re probably not going to sleep much between late January and the end of April. If you’re a teacher, September and May are going to get a little bit crazy. If you’re a parent, you’ll never sleep again. It just goes with the territory. Busy periods are a part of life.

But in the midst of that kind of real life, God’s promise of rest still stands, and he isn’t saying you won’t have busy times, or physically and emotionally taxing times, in your life. He’s saying that we can have his rest in the midst of those storms.

Now, look at V. 2. Entering God’s rest requires us to HEAR God’s voice and RESPOND in faith. Hearing God’s voice requires us to do more than just tolerate a sermon a few Sunday mornings a month. One day this week, Becky was talking to me about something. And I was listening. Well, sort of. I was also playing fetch with the dog and watching a baseball game on TV. I can say that I heard some of the words she said, but definitely not all of them.

Here’s the thing … I adore Becky and I was honestly TRYING to listen to her. But I was also letting other things get in the way. So my frenetic mind couldn’t REALLY tune in and hear her. I heard the words, but I didn’t really get the meaning, and it hurt her feelings.

There are other times when my preconceived ideas keep me from hearing her. I have my own ideas about what she either is saying or is about to say. I ASSUME I know. And my assumptions keep me from meeting her in the moment when she wants to communicate something to me. “I know I know I know.” So she asks me, “What do you know?” Do you know how many times I’ve answered that question correctly in 27 years of marriage? Never. Not once. Not a single time. You’d think I’d learn to tune in, right? But I don’t. Distractions and assumptions keep me from connecting with her.

The same thing happens in our relationship with God. My body might be here in worship, but my mind is somewhere else. Or unexamined theological prejudices and biases have me trying to squeeze Jesus into my preconceived ideas about him. Instead of allowing him to speak his word to me, I assume I already know what he is saying, and I miss what he wants me to learn, to experience, to ingest spiritually. When I am not fully tuned in to my wife, I trivialize her and what she wants to say to me, which is really a way of connecting with me. We communicate for connection. The same is true of my relationship with God – when I am not intentionally tuned in, I am trivializing God and what he wants to say to me as he connects with me.

Pastor and scholar Donald McCullough wrote a great book called The Trivialization of God: The Dangerous Illusion of a Manageable Deity. In the opening pages of that book, he says this: Visit a church on Sunday morning – almost any will do – and you will likely find a congregation comfortably relating to a deity who fits nicely within precise doctrinal positions, or who lends almighty support to social crusades, or who conforms to individual spiritual experiences. But you will not likely find much awe or sense of mystery. The only sweaty palms will be those of the preacher unsure whether the sermon will go over; the only shaking knees will be those of the soloist about to sing the offertory.

… reverence and awe have often been replaced by a yawn of familiarity. The consuming fire has been domesticated into a candle flame, adding a bit of religious atmosphere, perhaps, but no heat, no blinding light, no power for purification.

When the true story gets told, whether in the partial light of historical perspective or in the perfect light of eternity, it may well be revealed that the worst sin of the church at the end of the twentieth century has been the trivialization of God.[i]

To enter God’s rest, I have to truly HEAR God, but I then respond to what I hear with FAITH. And faith is way more than just thinking certain things about God. Faith is belief plus action. I can accept certain tenets, beliefs, as being absolutely true and believe them fully. I can believe that Jesus is truly the Son of God, that he died in my place for my sin, and that God raised him to life. I can believe that, but my belief alone, true is it may be, is not yet faith. It become faith when I act on it.

I can believe that a boat will float. But that belief is not yet faith. It becomes faith when I get in the boat and we push off from shore and head out into the waves of the bay. I have FAITH when I bring my beliefs, my thinking, in line with ultimate reality – Truth with a capital T, that which aligns with the nature and character and revelation of God, and then begin to live accordingly, obeying and trusting God.

So in faith, I can face the chaos in my life and in this world without fear because I believe that God is in control and I am trusting him. My life is in his hands, and I know that no matter what happens, God’s got this, even if I’m not sure how. Even if I lose my life, even if I die, God’s got this, and death itself cannot separate me from his love. So I can think and pray and act to share this good news with those who are fearful, and I can work to ease the suffering of those most impacted by the chaos, by the storm. I am free to love others as Jesus loves me because I don’t lose my mind in the storm. I just trust him, even if it looks like he’s sleeping.

Now, look at Vv. 3-5. Our pastor quotes Psalm 95:7 twice, with Genesis 2:2 sandwiched in the middle. He’s emphasizing two things. First, he’s emphasizing God’s ownership of this rest. God is inviting us into HIS rest. Not OUR rest. HIS rest. And second, we can miss out on that rest if we aren’t HEARING AND RESPONDING in trust and obedience.

So what is God’s rest like? The writer takes us back to Genesis 2:2, which says, “And on the seventh day God finished his work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all his work that he had done.” God rested, and continues in that rest. The seventh day of creation is the only one that doesn’t have an end. It is ongoing. God’s rest is ongoing, and he invites us as his children to join him in his rest. His promise still stands. So what is God’s rest like? Pastor R. Kent Hughes points out three characteristics of God’s rest.

For starters, it is marked by joy. In Job 38:7 God is speaking to Job, describing his own work in creation, and he says that after he created, “the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?” There are those, including some Biblical scholars, who equate joy with happiness. But I think they’re wrong. My own life experience, my journey through this world, and my study of Scripture has convinced me that there are times when grief is the only appropriate expression of emotion. Grief is a very real part of life, and those who equate joy, a gift of the Holy Spirit, and happiness, trivialize that.

Joy INCLUDES happiness, when happiness is appropriate and being experienced, but it is more than JUST happiness. Joy is the quiet confidence that God is in control and the rest that comes even in the midst of the worst storms of this life.

Second, God’s rest is a satisfying rest. As God created, Genesis tells us that God repeated the words “It is good” over and over again. He looked at what he had made, he stood back admiring it, and he said, over and over again, “It is good.”

Have you ever completed a project – made something or remodeled something or just completed something and then stood back and said, “Yep, that’s good.”? There’s a satisfaction we take in a job well done, whether that job involves building something physically, or building a business or an organization that does well.

God’s rest is like that. God took satisfaction in all that he had made, calling it good. When we place our trust in Christ and begin to live in obedience to him, we can look at what God has us doing, and eventually, we can look back over our entire lives, and take satisfaction in it, regardless of whether we appear successful in this world’s eyes. There is no greater satisfaction than being able to say, “This is what God asked me to do, he gave me the strength and ability to do it, and I obeyed him. It is good.”

God’s rest is joyful, it is satisfying, and it is a working rest. That may not make a lot of sense, but it’s the truth. God’s rest does not just involve us kicking back in a recliner and taking a nap. Oh, we all need to do that sometimes. We call that sabbath, and it can happen anytime. It doesn’t have to be on Saturday or Sunday. But the rest God invites us into isn’t the removal of activity. It isn’t passive. It’s stepping into Holy Spirit empowered activity in obedience to God.

In John 5:17, Jesus says, “My Father is working until now, and I am working.” The Father never stopped working. God has been at work since creation. And yet, he calls it “rest.” You see, God’s rest is right relationship with him. We enter it by accepting his grace, his forgiveness and transformation, and then obedience. One day, we will enter that rest fully in the new heaven and new earth promised through St. John in the book of Revelation. But it is also a present reality, something I enter now, and will possess fully in eternity.

The danger comes in missing out on God’s rest because we turn back. Look at Vv. 6-11. It’s possible to miss it. If we become like the Israelites who wandered in the wilderness, standing on the threshold of God’s promise but allowing fear to keep us from stepping in. We must be wary, lest we miss out. God invites us into his rest. We step into it as we hear his voice and respond in active trust and obedience.

Here’s how Isaiah describes God’s rest. Isaiah 40:31, “they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary;     they shall walk and not faint.” Work. Action. Activity. Bathed in rest. God’s rest.

I have always tried to stay in shape. Over the past few years, I’ve started riding a bike. Now, I’m no Ernie or Margianne. They’re real bicyclists. But I do try to ride, usually for an hour or a little more, five or six days a week. On my mountain bike that equates to maybe 14 or 15 miles a day, with a few longer rides thrown in on occasion.

Here’s the thing: there’s only one direction you can go when you leave our driveway – up. For pretty long time. But somehow, coming back to the house has a lot of “up” in it too. And a couple of those “ups” are looooong climbs. One is right at a mile. Another is a half mile. That’s a long way to be pedaling up. I use the Strava app to track my rides, and one of those hills has the name “Wait For Me Hill” in Strava. I have my own name for it though. I call it “Heart Attack Hill,” because one of these days I’m going to have one on it.

But it has never beaten me. I’ve never not made it up the hill. Oh, I’m gassed when I get to the top, but when I’m fit, I can take a few deep breaths and I’m ready to attack again. When I’m not fit, I just want to coast back home. That’s what God’s rest on this earth is like – action, activity, work, but you’ll always have what the next step asks of you.

God rested from his work, and yet still works. That’s what he invites us into. A life marked by joy, satisfaction, and effective work in his kingdom. A life marked by his rest. Let’s pray.

[i] Donald W. McCullough, The Trivialization of God: The Dangerous Illusion of a Manageable Deity, pg. 13