Lenten Study on Sabbath: 1
Based on Embracing Rhythms of Work and Rest by Ruth Haley Barton, Chapters 1-8
Beginning With God: Chapters 1–2
Let me begin with a sentence that stops me every time I read it. Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote: “Sabbath is the most precious present humankind has received from the treasure house of God.” Not a burden. Not a rule. A present.
Ruth Haley Barton opens her book with similar honesty. She writes: “I am quite certain I would not be alive today if it were not for God’s gift of sabbath… These sabbath rhythms have, quite literally, kept me in the game.”
And Wayne Muller puts it even more starkly: “If we do not allow for a rhythm of rest in our overly busy lives, illness becomes our Sabbath… our pneumonia, our cancer, our heart attack, our accidents create Sabbath for us.” In other words: if we do not stop willingly, we will eventually be stopped.
That is why the writer of Hebrews says: “So then, a sabbath rest still remains for the people of God” (Hebrews 4:9).
The promise of rest still stands. But Hebrews also warns that refusing it hardens the heart. To resist Sabbath is not just poor time management; it is a spiritual issue.
1. Sabbath Begins with God
Before we talk about boundaries and calendars, we must begin where Scripture begins.
Genesis says: “Thus the heavens and the earth were finished… And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested… So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it” (Genesis 2:1–3).
Notice something radical. The first full day Adam and Eve experienced was not a workday. It was a Sabbath day. They woke up to a finished world. They did not create it. They did not earn it. They received it. The original rhythm of human life was this: receive first, then work from gratitude. Sabbath is not primarily about stopping. It is about remembering that we are creatures, not creators.
Barton defines Sabbath this way: “Sabbath-keeping is a way of ordering all of life around a pattern of working six days and then ceasing and resting on the seventh… arranging our lives to honor the rhythm of things—work and rest, fruitfulness and dormancy, giving and receiving, being and doing. It is about living in alignment with how God actually made the world.
2. Why This Is So Hard for Us
Most of us arrive at Lent tired, not rebellious. We are not trying to disobey God. We are trying to survive our schedules. But we have absorbed a story about worth that Scripture never told us: You are what you produce. You are what you accomplish. You are what others say about you.
And without noticing it, we baptize that story. Even church activity can become part of the drivenness.
The psalmist names this condition: “It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives sleep to his beloved” (Psalm 127:2). There is a kind of work called anxious toil.
On the outside it looks responsible. On the inside it is driven by fear — fear of falling behind, fear of disappointing others, fear that we are not enough.
Sabbath confronts that fear with a different truth: God is holding the world together while we sleep. When we refuse Sabbath, what we are often saying — even if we do not say it out loud — is this: “If I stop, everything will fall apart.” That is not humility. That is subtle unbelief.
3. Jesus Lived Within Limits
Look at Jesus. The crowds were still sick. The disciples were still confused. The needs were still endless. And yet: “Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed” (Mark 1:35). He withdrew. He stepped away. He lived within limits. If the Son of God did not try to be limitless, what makes us think we can be?
Jesus also says: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest… and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28–29). Notice: He does not say, “Come to a better strategy.” He says, “Come to Me.” Sabbath begins not with a calendar adjustment, but with Christ.
4. Symptoms of a Soul Without Sabbath
Barton suggests many of us are living with what she calls a kind of low-grade spiritual dehydration. We keep pouring ourselves out but rarely allow ourselves to be filled.
Over time the signs show up:
Irritability
Emotional numbness
Resentment
Loss of joy
Thin prayer life
A subtle distance from God
These are not moral failures. They are symptoms of a soul that has forgotten Sabbath.
And then something beautiful happens in Barton’s description of Sabbath arriving. She writes about the relief that washes over her when:
The house is prepared
Special food has been bought
Computers are turned off
Phones are powered down
Candles are lit
And it is finally time to stop — whether everything is finished or not
She says: “I have experienced rest that turns into delight, delight that turns into gratitude, and gratitude that turns into worship.” That is the movement. Rest → Delight → Gratitude → Worship.
5. Three Questions Sabbath Asks
Sabbath, Barton says, asks us three piercing questions:
· Do you trust Me to run the world without you?
· Do you believe your worth is deeper than your work?
· Will you let Me love you without proving anything first?
To keep Sabbath is to answer “yes” — not just in theory, but with our bodies.
That is why Sabbath communities do not happen by accident. Leaders must practice it. Households must support it. Churches must model it. Otherwise the culture of hurry will win every time.
6. Why This Matters in Lent
Lent interrupts autopilot. It invites us to examine whether our pace actually matches the Gospel we claim to believe. The good news is not simply that God forgives our sins. The good news is that God offers a different way to be human — a life shaped by grace rather than drivenness, trust rather than anxiety, belovedness rather than performance.
So here is the humbling truth: We need rest. And God wants to give it.
Sabbath is not another religious obligation. It is a doorway back to the God who calls us His beloved.
And perhaps this Lent, the most faithful thing we could do is not try harder—but learn how to stop.
Discussion
When you hear the word “Sabbath,” what memory, image, or story comes to mind? (Keep answers brief. Receive each story without correction or evaluation.)
What emotions rise when you hear “Sabbath” — relief, guilt, resistance, hope? Why?
Where in your life are you eating the “bread of anxious toil”?
What fears surface when you imagine stopping for a full day?
As we talk about these first two chapters, where did you notice longing — even desperation — in your own soul?
What difference does it make to think of Sabbath as beginning with God rather than with our effort?
How have you experienced the dynamic of rest giving meaning to work — and work giving meaning to rest?
Is there anything God might be stirring in you to explore or try this week?
This week:
Choose one small boundary (no email one evening, no phone at dinner).
Sit for 10 minutes with Psalm 23 — no agenda.
Finish this sentence in prayer: “Lord, I am afraid to stop because…”
Prayer
Lord of the Sabbath, You see how tired we are. You see the anxious toil we call responsibility and the fear we call faithfulness. Teach us again that we are creatures, not creators — beloved, not machines. Where we are afraid to stop, meet us. Where we are exhausted, restore us. Where we do not trust You to carry what we cannot, increase our faith. Let this Lent become not another burden but a return to Your rhythm of grace. Through Jesus Christ, our rest and our peace. Amen.