“Remember the Sabbath day and treat it as holy.” — Exodus 20:8 (CEB)

If you ask someone how they’re doing these days, one answer rises above all the rest: “Busy.”

Busy has become a badge of honor. We wear exhaustion like a medal of achievement. We fill every hour of every day, answering emails late into the evening, shuttling children from activity to activity, checking our phones before our feet hit the floor each morning. Somewhere along the way, we’ve come to believe that our value is measured by our productivity.

But God never asked us to live this way. In fact, one of God’s very first gifts to humanity wasn’t another task to complete…it was an invitation to rest.

The Bible begins with a rhythm. For six days, God creates. Light and darkness. Sky and sea. Plants and animals. Humanity itself. And then, on the seventh day, God rests.

Not because God is tired. Not because the work couldn’t continue. God rests because rest is holy.

The Sabbath isn’t an interruption to life; it is woven into the fabric of creation itself. Before there was Israel. Before there were commandments. Before there was even sin, there was Sabbath.

When God later gives the Ten Commandments, the command to remember the Sabbath isn’t simply about religious observance. It’s about reclaiming our humanity. Israel had just been liberated from slavery in Egypt, a place where there was always another brick to make, another quota to meet, another demand on their time.

God was teaching them that they were no longer slaves. Their worth no longer depended upon endless production. Neither does ours.

Jesus lived with extraordinary purpose, but never with frantic urgency.

Throughout the Gospels, we repeatedly find Jesus withdrawing to lonely places to pray. After long days of healing crowds, he stepped away. Before major decisions, he sought solitude. Following emotionally draining moments, even after hearing of John the Baptist’s death, Jesus invited the disciples, “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while” (Mark 6:31).

Notice what Jesus doesn’t say. He doesn’t tell them to push harder. He doesn’t tell them to squeeze in one more miracle. He doesn’t tell them to answer one more request. He tells them to rest.

Perhaps one of the most spiritual things we can do is stop long enough to remember that the world continues turning without our constant effort.

God remains God. We do not.

Modern research continues to confirm what Scripture has taught for thousands of years.

People who regularly rest sleep better, experience lower rates of anxiety and depression, have healthier hearts, stronger immune systems, improved creativity, better memory, and greater resilience in the face of stress. Chronic overwork, by contrast, increases the risk of burnout, cardiovascular disease, and mental health struggles. Organizations such as the World Health Organization have identified long working hours as a significant public health concern.

Psychologists also note that our brains need periods of recovery. During moments of rest, our minds process experiences, consolidate memories, solve problems creatively, and restore emotional balance. We are not machines designed for uninterrupted output.

God knew this long before neuroscientists did.

Interestingly, many of the countries that consistently rank among the happiest in the world tend to embrace a different relationship with work and rest.

Nations such as Finland, Denmark, Sweden, Iceland, and the Netherlands often provide generous paid vacation, robust parental leave, universal healthcare, and stronger social safety nets. Several European countries have also experimented successfully with four-day work weeks or shorter work hours while maintaining, or even increasing, productivity. These societies are certainly not perfect, but they challenge the assumption that working more always leads to living better.

Here in the United States, we often celebrate busyness. Elsewhere, many people intentionally celebrate balance. Maybe we have something to learn.

Of course, Sabbath is not simply about leisure. A day spent endlessly scrolling social media or worrying about Monday isn’t really Sabbath.

Biblically, Sabbath is about delight. It is time intentionally set apart for worship, relationships, recreation, gratitude, and remembering who we are.

The Hebrew understanding of Sabbath reminds us that our identity comes before our activity. We are beloved children of God before we are employees. Before we are parents. Before we are volunteers. Before we are leaders. Before we accomplish anything at all.

The Wesleyan tradition has long emphasized the importance of practices, or what John Wesley called the “means of grace”, that help us grow in love of God and neighbor. Worship, prayer, Scripture, Christian conversation, acts of mercy, and service all shape our lives. Sabbath fits naturally within this vision. Rest is not the absence of discipleship; it is one of the ways God forms us into healthier, more compassionate disciples.

From a United Methodist perspective, grace is always at work in every part of life, including our need for renewal. God’s grace invites us not only to serve faithfully but also to receive God’s gifts with gratitude. Healthy discipleship is not constant striving. It is learning to live in rhythms of work, worship, rest, justice, compassion, and joy.

Weekly Sabbath is essential. But sometimes life calls for something more.

Pastors, teachers, healthcare workers, caregivers, first responders, nonprofit leaders, parents, and countless others often spend themselves in service to others. Over time, even meaningful work can become exhausting.

That is why many professions encourage sabbaticals, renewal leaves, retreats, or extended vacations. These aren’t rewards for surviving. They are investments in long-term health.

Throughout Scripture, we see seasons built into God’s design. There are seasons of planting and harvest. Seasons of mourning and dancing. Seasons of wilderness and seasons of abundance. Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is “a season for every matter under heaven.”

Even the land itself was commanded to rest every seventh year. Creation was never intended to operate at maximum capacity forever. Neither are we.

Rest rarely happens by accident. We often have to protect it. Healthy boundaries may include:

• Saying “no” to commitments that exceed our capacity.
• Taking vacation time rather than letting it accumulate.
• Turning off work notifications during evenings or days off.
• Keeping one day each week different from the others.
• Prioritizing family meals and meaningful friendships.
• Spending time outdoors.
• Worshiping regularly.
• Making space for silence and prayer.

Boundaries are not barriers against love. They are the structures that make love sustainable.

God cares about every part of who we are. That means caring for our bodies, minds, emotions, and spirits.

Regular exercise strengthens both body and mind. Routine medical checkups help identify problems before they become crises. Counseling or therapy can provide healing, resilience, and wisdom through life’s challenges. Seeking help for our mental or emotional health is not a sign of weak faith. It is an act of faithful stewardship of the life God has entrusted to us. Healthy eating, sufficient sleep, meaningful relationships, laughter, and recreation all become ways of honoring the gift of life.

The command to “love your neighbor as yourself” assumes something important: You cannot continually pour from an empty cup. Self-care is not selfish. It is one way we become more available to love others well.

As I am traveling through a season of renewal leave, I do so with deep gratitude for this congregation and for the gift of time to rest, learn, pray, and be renewed.

My hope is that this season is not only meaningful for me but becomes an invitation for all of us.

Maybe you don’t need a month away. But maybe you need one afternoon without your phone. Maybe you need to take the vacation you’ve been postponing. Maybe you need to call your doctor. Maybe you need to begin seeing a counselor. Maybe you need to spend an hour in prayer, or on a hiking trail, or around the dinner table with people you love. 

Maybe you simply need permission to rest. If so, receive this as that permission. Not from me. From God.

Because before God asks anything of us, God first reminds us who we are. Beloved. And beloved people need not earn the right to rest.

It has been God’s gift all along.