Matthew 11:28-30 Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Jeremiah 6:16-17 Thus says the LORD: “Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ 17 I set watchmen over you, saying, ‘Pay attention to the sound of the trumpet!’ But they said, ‘We will not pay attention.’
Life wears us down. We live in a world of relentless motion, pressure, and performance. Yeshua (Jesus) doesn’t deny this. Instead, He speaks directly to those who are “weary and heavy-laden.” The Greek for “weary” (kopiao) means utterly worn out—soul-tired, not just physically fatigued. The burdens He mentions aren’t only external tasks but inward baggage: guilt, shame, expectations, and hidden wounds. Yeshua’s call isn’t merely an invitation to stop—it’s a call to come. He offers what no one else can: rest that restores.
But here’s the surprise—He offers rest through a yoke. That seems backwards. A yoke is for work. Yet this is the wisdom of the kingdom. Yeshua doesn’t promise escape; He offers partnership. His yoke—zugos in Greek—isn’t just a symbol of restraint or control. It represents His way of life, His teachings, and how He walked in obedience to the Father. And when we are yoked to Him, we’re no longer pulling alone. The burden doesn’t disappear—but it is redefined, shared, and lightened. His commands are not oppressive; they align us with God’s design, bringing peace through purpose.
“Learn from Me,” Yeshua says. Not learn just about Me. Not just admire Me. The Greek verb manthano implies observation that leads to transformation—watching the Master in action and imitating His ways. And what are those ways? Love, compassion, gentleness, and humility aren’t signs of weakness or passivity—they’re powerful, intentional choices. They reflect inner strength and a deep trust in God’s plan. Yeshua, though He is the King over all, chose to lower Himself and serve. He didn’t demand honor—He gave it. In doing so, He revealed the true path to peace and rest: not through striving, but through surrender and selfless love.
To take His yoke is to say YES to being shaped. It’s to accept a life of obedience that flows from love. In the Hebraic context, this yoke isn’t legalistic. It’s a joyful return to God’s ancient paths, the ways Jeremiah urged Israel to rediscover. (Jeremiah 6:16-17) Yeshua claims the authority to define that path. He is not just the teacher; He is Wisdom itself (Colossians 2:2-3). In Him, the old paths become living roads that lead to freedom.
Here’s the wonder: when we walk in His ways—when we align with His teaching and pace—rest finds us. Not because we chased it down but because we surrendered to the One who gave it. This rest (anapausis) is not the absence of effort but the presence of inner calm while we labor. It’s working in harmony with our purpose. It’s the second wind of grace.
Maybe you’ve tried everything else. Maybe you’ve carried the weight alone for too long. He’s still saying, “Come to Me.” Not just once, but daily. Take His yoke. Learn His ways. And you will find what your soul has longed for—not just relief, but real rest — a true SHABBAT!
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The noted English architect Sir Christopher Wren was supervising the construction of a magnificent cathedral in London. A journalist thought it would be interesting to interview some of the workers, so he chose three and asked them this question, “What are you doing?” The first replied, “I’m cutting stone for a shabby 10 shillings a day.” The next answered, “I’m putting in 13 hard hours a day on this job.” But the last said, “I’m helping Sir Christopher Wren construct one of London’s greatest cathedrals.”
It is among popular “Christian” belief that an abundance of material and other blessings follow those whose hearts are truly after God and that those who seem to consistently struggle to that end, cannot possibly be in God’s perfect will. I want to submit to you a realization I had about this very thing. I think we might have it all backwards.
A National Geographic article published a few years describing a real celestial event which took place at the time of the birth of Jesus reminded me of Risto Santala’s explanation in his book, “The Messiah in the New Testament in the Light of Rabbinical Writings”. He wrote about a conjunction of major planets that took place which could have led the wise men from the east, to Israel.
The Shema is recited every Shabbat in Israel and throughout the world: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.” The emphasis is on hearing—not just with our ears but our hearts. That same emphasis runs through the Gospels, where Yeshua (Jesus) repeatedly says, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” This isn’t just a phrase; it’s a life-changing command.
Many families across the U.S. are gathering today to celebrate “Thanksgiving.” But let’s take a moment to turn our hearts to the ultimate source of thanksgiving: God Himself. Psalm 100 is often called the “Psalm of Thanksgiving,” and it’s a perfect guide for how we should approach God—not just during Thanksgiving but every day.
For nearly twenty years, Romans 13:12 has been my signature verse on every email I send. For me, it’s a constant reminder that the long, dark night of this world is almost over, and the Day of the Lord is just about to dawn.
The testing of Abraham’s faith was repeated by YHVH throughout the patriarch’s entire life. The tests grew greater as his life advanced, and through every one, whether Abraham passed or not, YHVH proved Himself to be his friend over and over again. Every test or “trial” involved a serious challenge or threat in which Abraham had to trust that the LORD knew what He was doing, asking, or requiring, and that His goodness and faithfulness were unquestionably reliable.