Enter That Rest

READ

As we close this journey through rest and Sabbath, we turn our eyes toward the horizon of eternity. The writer of Hebrews reminds us that all our earthly experiences of rest—however sweet and restorative—are but foretastes of something far greater. There is a rest that transcends weekly rhythms, a rest that surpasses temporary relief, a rest that will never end.

Let’s take a moment to read Hebrews 4:9-11:

There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from their works, just as God did from his. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will perish by following their example of disobedience.

REFLECT

This isn't just about life after death, though that's certainly part of it. This is about the completion of God's great story of redemption, when all things are made new, when the groaning of creation ceases, when the striving of the human heart finds its ultimate fulfillment. Every Sabbath you practice, every moment of rest you embrace, every time you choose to stop and be still—these are all echoes of the eternal rest that awaits.

"There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God." The Greek word used here is "sabbatismos"—it's the only time this word appears in the New Testament. The writer is pointing to something beyond our weekly Sabbaths, something that our earthly rest can only approximate. It's the rest that comes when faith becomes sight, when hope becomes reality, when the partial becomes complete.

Think about your deepest experiences of rest. Maybe it's been a moment of profound peace during prayer, or the satisfaction of work well done, or the comfort of being held by someone you love. These moments give us glimpses of what our souls were created for—perfect rest in the presence of perfect love. But even our best earthly rest is shadowed by the knowledge that it's temporary, that Monday morning will come, that burdens will return. The promise of forever rest changes everything. It means that the weariness you feel is not permanent. The anxiety that grips you is not your final destination. The burdens you carry are not your eternal reality. There is coming a day when "he will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Revelation 21:4).

"Anyone who enters God's rest also rests from their works, just as God did from his." This is the beautiful paradox of grace: we enter God's rest not through our efforts but through our surrender. We stop trying to earn our way to God and simply receive what He offers. We rest from the exhausting work of trying to justify our existence and simply accept that we are loved, not because of what we do but because of who we are in Christ.

But notice the writer's urgency: "Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest." This isn't a contradiction—it's an invitation to actively pursue the rest that God offers. We make effort not to earn rest but to receive it, not to achieve peace but to accept it. We practice earthly rest as a way of preparing for eternal rest. This promise of forever rest doesn't diminish the importance of our daily and weekly rhythms of rest. Instead, it elevates them. Every time you choose rest over endless productivity, you're declaring your faith in the promise of eternal rest. Every time you practice Sabbath, you're proclaiming that this world's demands are not ultimate. Every time you cease from striving, you're rehearsing for the day when all striving will cease.

The hope of forever rest also transforms how we view our current struggles. The difficult season you're walking through, the burden that feels too heavy, the pace that feels too fast—these are not your final story. They are the labor pains of a creation groaning for redemption, the temporary discomfort before the eternal ease. This doesn't mean we should simply endure our present circumstances without seeking change or relief. It means we can work for justice, pursue healing, and create rhythms of rest while knowing that our ultimate hope isn't in our ability to perfect our circumstances but in God's promise to make all things new.

As you continue to practice rest in your daily life, remember that you're not just taking care of your immediate needs. You're participating in a story that began in Eden, was fulfilled in Christ, and will find its completion in the new heaven and new earth. You're living as someone who knows the ending of the story, who has read the final chapter and discovered that rest—not striving—has the last word. Until that day comes, we practice. We rest weekly as a foretaste of eternal rest. We cease from our striving as a declaration of faith in God's promises. We create rhythms of renewal as a way of preparing our hearts for the day when all rhythms will be perfectly aligned with God's eternal rhythm of love.

RESPOND

Take a moment to process what God might be leading you to do in light of what you read.

• How does the promise of eternal rest change your perspective on your current struggles and the temporary nature of earthly rest?

• What does it mean to you to "make every effort to enter that rest," and how can you actively pursue the rest that God offers?

REST

Take a moment to rest in God’s presence and consider one thing you can take away from your time reading, then close your devotional experience by praying:

God, thank You for the promise of forever rest. Help me to live today with the hope of eternity, finding peace in knowing that my current struggles are not my final story. Teach me to practice earthly rest as a foretaste of eternal rest, and give me grace to make every effort to enter the rest You offer. Until that day comes, may my rhythms of rest be worship, my Sabbaths be hope, and my trust be in You alone. Amen.