I’ve been thinking a lot about Matthew 11:28-30 over the last decade. Thinking, meditating, praying. I’ve learned a lot about the difference between simply reading scripture and absorbing it, digesting it, searching for what it really means.

I’ve been intentional about doing this with almost every passage I read, but there are a particular few that I’ve given a lot of time to. This passage in Matthew, which are words from Jesus’ own mouth, is one of these.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 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. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

I want to break this down bit by bit and share what I’ve personally learned from it. However, to do so, I first need to establish what rest is: What is rest, as we define it? What is rest in the eyes of Jesus? If they are not the same, then perhaps we need to redefine our understanding and determine how to apply it to our own lives.

Perhaps you are already living a life of proper rest, and it is only I who needs to make this discovery. But based on what I’ve seen—concerning the cultural epidemic of chronic stress, the masses running from one thing to another in a chaotic fashion, and the utter fatigue I see in the eyes of most people that I talk to—I don’t believe I am alone in this. We don’t necessarily need more time in our day to rest. Instead, we need to learn how to live lives of rest. Let me explain.

So, how do we define rest today? For a lot of us, rest is the absence of work. When we think of rest, we think of sleep, the annual one-week vacation to the beach, getting horizontal on the couch and watching a game or a good movie, savoring a hot cup of tea and reading a book - the list goes on.

But for most of us, are we truly resting when we do these things? Or are we engaging in these restful activities while, in the back of our minds, we’re stressing about our current problems or the laundry list of things we have to do? I’m one of these.

As I’m continuing to heal from severe long-term illness, I don’t have the capacity for large blocks of work. I recently had a good friend tell me that I needed to schedule breaks throughout my day so that I could recharge and feel renewed to complete the next task.

“You see, my current problem is,” I said. “If I try to take a break before I finish all my work, I’m not truly taking a break. I’ll just be thinking about everything I still have to do.” If you haven’t figured this out already, I haven’t learned how to live a life of rest, much less perform the action of rest at all. But I have started the process of learning.

We’ve established that most of us see rest as the absence of work, and we can also see that most of us don’t truly rest when we find small slivers of time to do so. So, how do we fix this?

To start, we need to redefine what rest truly is. We need to see rest the way Jesus saw it. When I think about his life, I realize two things: 1) he spent most of his time working, and 2) he was always resting. A bit of a paradox, I know, but allow me to go deeper.

Growing up as a young Jewish boy in a Roman-ruled culture, Jesus was a carpenter. Biblical scholars believe he started the trade as a boy in his early teens. Now I’ve never been a carpenter, but I’ve had many jobs that were manual labor. Landscaping, constructing pools, decks, and patios, mopping floors as a janitor, you name it. But I had the privilege of modern technology: power saws, tampers, jackhammers, electric drills—all of the tools that allow you to sweat less, bleed less, and execute faster. Jesus didn’t have any of this. With only the tools available to the common tradesman two thousand years ago, blisters turned into calluses, a lack of steel-toed boots turned into broken toes, and a job that to this day still requires blood and sweat, required even more.

I also learned that based on where we think He grew up, He had to walk down a large hill every day to get to work, only to saw, hammer, lift heavy objects all day, and eventually walk back up the hill to get home. We (me) can’t even go up a flight of steps without getting out of breath after sitting at our desks in our climate-controlled buildings.

Okay, so this doesn’t sound like a restful life so far. But He only did this type of work until He was 30, and then He took his ministry to the region. Preaching and teaching is easy, right? Wrong. I would argue that once He quit his job of manual labor to preach about the Kingdom of Heaven, His work only got harder.

No, He wasn’t swinging a hammer anymore, but He was constantly walking from place to place (no Teslas in 1st century Judea), healing the sick, performing wonders, preaching the gospel, scolding pharisees, flipping tables and braiding whips, getting tempted by the Devil himself on an empty stomach, tirelessly discipling 12 stubborn dudes that followed Him every where He went, (and dare I forget), constantly running for His life because people tried to stone Him and throw Him off cliffs when they didn’t like what He said.

Sounds at least mildly stressful, right? And he didn’t have a nice Tempur-Pedic mattress to crash on after a long day either. He couch-surfed at friends’ houses, camped out in tents, and slept in the wilderness. The man probably never saw a full 8 hours. We know that in most of his free time, he snuck away to pray [1]. Read the red in the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, & John) and you can see for yourself just how busy he was. So where was the rest?

Sure, he acknowledged the Sabbath and didn’t toil in the sense that we would define it. But he still performed Kingdom Work, such as miracles (a point of slight contention with the Pharisees and religious leaders [2]), He still went to weddings, celebrated feasts, and had dinner parties. But these weren’t everyday events, and to be honest, they don’t sound restful to me. Every time I get back from a wedding or a birthday party, I’m worn out. Happy, but tired. So where was his Netflix time? His golf outings, weekly wings and darts with the boys? He didn’t have time - he was busy. Yet he lived a life of rest.

So let’s (finally) take a look at this verse and break it down bit by bit.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

I had read this verse many times in my life, but it didn’t truly hit me until I started getting severely ill in January of 2016. My health suddenly went from very bad to horribly worse. I was tired, sick, and sick of being sick and tired. I felt like I had run out of gas five years prior, and I simply wanted to rest.

But I can’t rest until I’m healthy, I thought. There is no rest in suffering; it’s a struggle, a war. I tried surrendering the struggle, I tried coming to Him, as he commanded. I found no rest. I couldn’t get past the thought that I had to be free before I could rest. Lord, give me freedom so I can rest in you, were my thoughts and prayers.

Labor and heavy laden. Yes, bingo. I could resonate. I felt as if I had been carrying a boulder around my entire life. The boulder being my struggles with my mental and physical health from early childhood onward. I saw the animated adaptation of The Pilgrim’s Progress as a young boy and I couldn’t get the image of Paul Bunyan’s main character, Christian, carrying around a large rock on his back, symbolizing the burden of sin and death. I couldn’t help thinking of the Myth of Sisyphus, pushing the boulder all the way up the hill only to have it roll back down again, destined to repeat this process eternally. Never finding completion in his toil. An endless curse. Can anyone relate?

Do you labor? Are you heavy laden? Have you known suffering? Do you still know it?

Maybe you’re one of few who has seemingly gone unscathed from hardship your entire life. Maybe things for you have been easy relative to others. But I’m sure you still feel heavy laden. Few don’t these days. Maybe you’re running around taking the kids everywhere, working two jobs, or even one job that requires 60+ hours a week. You go from appointment to appointment, paying the bills, doing the laundry, task after task after task after task. If this is you, you qualify. And if you qualify, there is a promise. A promise of rest.

So, how do we get it? I sure didn’t know for a long time, but I think I’m starting to. To begin, I believe the coming to Him action is a two-part process:

1) Approach Him with humility (I need You. I’m not enough to handle this alone). Sounds easier than it is. I can’t speak for the women, but the men? Haven’t we been taught that it’s weak to need help? Shouldn’t we be tough enough to handle problems on our own? If you can’t deal with it, you’re soft. That’s the narrative. That right there is a big one that I had to work through. Remember when I said I was trying to surrender and I still found no rest? Well, I wasn’t truly surrendering. I wasn’t humbling myself. You see, I wanted His gift of rest, but I didn’t want His help. I thought I was too tough to get help. I was suffering; oh yes, quite terribly. But I just wanted to power through on my own strength until I got the healing, which I mistakenly believed to be rest itself.

If this is you, work to drop this mindset; take the short way home. Humble yourself, recognize that you’re only human—you’re not a Marvel character. You need help from the King of the Universe, and you’re no less of a man for taking it. In fact, I’d argue you’re much more of a man if you do. It may sound contradictory, but it takes a man to recognize his lacking, and it takes even more of one to ask for help with said lacking. Please, I implore you; do this. I took the long road home and I warn you, it is much more difficult. I had to be beaten down to a point where I realized that it didn’t matter how tough I was. I needed help. Help greater than I ever could be, and I needed it desperately.

2) Cast your cares on Him [3]. Not only can He handle it, He wants it. He wants to help you, He wants to give you rest. But you cannot receive rest if you’re holding on. You cannot receive rest if you do not surrender your pride and your problems. Are you tired? Give Him your fatigue. Are you suffering? Throw it on Him. He already paid for it on the cross. Are you stressed? Tell Him; tell Him why, ask for discernment and wisdom.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden. Approach with humility and give Him whatever is weighing you down.

Great. Done. My problems are still here. Where is the rest?

We’re getting to that.

Let’s go back to the concept of rest. It’s not necessarily an activity, such as a spa day with cucumber slices on your eyes; it’s a way of living—a Jesus lifestyle.

How can the carpenter turned Rabbi who never seemed to stop be so at rest that He sleeps through a storm on a boat? [4] I can’t even sleep on a plane. Well, Pete, if you think about how busy He was, it would make sense that He’d be so tired that he could sleep anywhere. True, but I believe it was much more than that. I think He was able to sleep through a storm so terrifying—that even His weathered fishermen friends were scared—because He was at rest. He had peace.

Not peace in the situation, but peace in Who was in control. Peace in the fact that no matter what happened, it was in the hands of His Father. Maybe Jesus knew that the storm wouldn’t harm them. Perhaps He knew it was only there so that He could show His Father’s glory and power by calming the storm [5].

But what if He didn’t? I believe He still would have been sleeping. Resting. The way He lived the rest of His life gives evidence of that. He lived His life with a lack of fear. The opposite of fear is peace and security. In peace, there is rest. His peace came from His faith. You of little faith, why are you so afraid? [6]

So you come to Him and give Him your troubles, and then have faith in The One you gave it to.

Please understand me clearly. Faith in The One you come to, not just faith that he can fix it. Don’t get me wrong, when we ask—when we pray, we should pray in faith. We ask because He can. We believe He can fix it; if we don’t, then we also do not believe He is omnipotent. But just because He can doesn’t always mean He will. This life isn’t a vacation. It’s not paradise - we’re (followers of Jesus) promised that later. We won’t always get what we want. You may still get crushed by the storm, but if you put your faith in the One who controls it [7], then you can trade your fear [8] for rest.

This is where I believe the rest comes from. Come to Him, give Him your burden, have faith in Him, knowing that everything (yes, even your horrible situation) is for His glory [9].

Let’s keep going.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me

This isn’t just a command; it’s an invitation. Remember the Jesus lifestyle I was talking about? Part of it was living a life of faith and trust in the Father, but in this line, Jesus is offering to teach us how to work the way He worked. To toil, grind, perform, (even suffer), all completely at rest.

There are so many religions and life hacks out there that promise this. Buddhism teaches a life of non-attachment so that you can live at peace and rest and ultimately reach enlightenment. Daoism teaches you to live in natural harmony with the universe and just flow with it. Here, try this meditation technique, this new stretching routine, this way of compartmentalizing and thinking, blah blah blah.

I’m not knocking many of these life hacks; there is utility in them, and I even use some of them for myself. But Jesus is saying something different here. Let me teach you how to work at rest. Let me work alongside you.

We have all these fancy farming machines nowadays, but for most of history, to plow, farmers would take oxen, put them side by side, place a wooden bar (a yoke) across their necks, and they would pull the plow together. He paints an incredible picture here; I’ll tell you why.

You don’t have to be alone in your toil. Again, surrender; ask for help. Jesus wants to work with you. He wants to share the load.

It sounds beautiful because it is. But when you’re in the thick of it—stressed out of your mind, suffering horribly, feeling like you’re drowning [10], you may feel like you’re alone. You may feel like the load is all on you and that your plow partner (Jesus) isn’t carrying the weight He promised. I understand. You cry out for help - beg, plead. And yet you feel abandoned— “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” [11]

Here’s what you need to understand. He may not be giving you the relief you need at the current moment, but He’s the one giving you the strength to get through it. He is working with you, more than you know. And let us not forget, He already suffered what you’re going through on the cross. He feels what you feel. He has overcome it so that one day every sad thing will come untrue [12]. Rest knowing that He isn’t just sharing the load. He’s taking it all on and leading you right beside Him. Rest knowing that one day you can put your sword down and never have to fight again [13]. But until then, fight the good fight [14]. Fight at rest. Yes, another paradox, but Jesus was full of them [15].

Share the load, and if you learn from Him, you will not experience a wrathful tyrant. Instead, you will encounter a King with a patient and gentle heart [16].

rest for your souls

I want to reiterate that just because you yoke yourself to Him, it doesn’t mean your physical bodies will always feel at rest. This is a different type of rest—a deeper rest. Soul rest. We’ve seen that Jesus was physically toiling, worn out in His flesh. But the Jesus lifestyle, as well as many essential aspects of His message, focus on shifting attention from your flesh to your soul [17].

As Christians, we know that one day our physical bodies will fade away, and in Heaven, we will receive eternal bodies—No sickness, toil, nor danger [18]. What matters here in this life is your soul. Yes, we need to be good stewards of our bodies [19], but the soul is the priority. The spiritual war is a battle over souls, the need for a savior is due to soul-sickness, and the work He does in you is at a soul level.

Rest for your souls. You may be running around the rest of your life trying to make ends meet, working to provide for your family. You may be like me, battling sickness and pain day in and day out. But your soul? My soul? It can still find rest.

I can’t stop thinking of people who are stuck in North Korean prison camps, the Gulag, sex trafficking, and those in the underground Churches being tortured and imprisoned for their faith, starving, overworked, and abused. There is no physical rest for them. But how about their souls? Can they find rest? Absolutely. I’ve heard stories of survivors from these situations who talk about being at peace and rest despite their circumstances. Meditation wasn’t the answer. Positive thinking wasn’t the cure. It was Jesus and being yoked to Him—sharing the load and being led day by day. Trusting that He is sovereign, knowing that He already won, and surrendering their fates to the infinitely loving God. If they can do it, why can’t we?

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light

I struggled with this one for a long time. I’m suffering so terribly, and you could help me if you wanted, but you won’t, I would think. This situation is anything but easy or light; we clearly have two very different definitions of what easy means. But what I didn’t realize at first was that my situation wasn’t His yoke. My suffering wasn’t His burden on me. It was the burden of a fallen and sinful world. Was He, and is He, allowing it to happen to me? Oh yes. But that is an entirely different conversation that ends with me surrendering to a good and just God whose thoughts are not my thoughts and whose ways are not my ways [20]. My job is to simply have faith and be obedient, not to understand.

The yoke of a fallen world may be burdensome, but His yoke isn’t. The burden of chaos and suffering may be heavy, but He is gentle and His burden is light. Zeus may chain you to a rock and let an eagle eat your liver every day for all of time [21] , but the Lord will take your betrayal and offer you grace in return.

Not only is his yoke absent of wrath and punishment, but He does not require much of you. He doesn’t want perfection; you won’t attain it anyway. We are made perfect in Christ [22]. He simply wants your heart. The whole thing. He wants your soul: every nook and cranny. And when you surrender that to Him, accept the free gift of grace, die to yourself daily, and follow Him, you will find that the work is easy and the burden is light, because you have a gentle God whose work for you is led and shared by Him.

So, how can we not find peace with a Savior who makes this statement in Matthew 11? How can we not live lives of rest despite our troubles when we turn them over to a sovereign God who has already secured the victory? How can we not persevere when we know we are not toiling alone?

Let go of the worldly burdens. Give them to Him. Take up His burden. It’s light—really, I promise. He’s done 99.99% of the work for you already. You don’t have to figure out how to navigate on your own; He’ll lead you. Secure your life of rest, no matter how chaotic things seem from the outside. Jesus worked non-stop and rested non-stop simply because His soul was at rest.

Above my front door on the inside of my house is a small piece of paper stuck to the wall by painter’s tape. I wrote on it in pen: Pacem Intrantibus Opto. A Latin phrase, closely translated to Peace to all who enter here. That’s what I want for my home. But can I take the yoke of Jesus upon myself and carry that peace into the rest of my life? Can you?

Go read Matthew 11:28-30. Seriously. Think on it; pray on it. Maybe you’ll get more out of it than I ever did, and I am still learning from it. I won’t lie and say I’ve entirely found that rest yet. I’m still battling, still surrendering, still trying to learn to do it His way. But learning from this passage has given me more peace and rest than I could have ever dreamed of, and I will continue to surrender and learn how to labor and rest the way Jesus did. Restfully work, restfully fight, restfully suffer. If our souls have found rest in Jesus, then what can the world or man do to us [23]?

FootNotes

  • [1] Mark 1:35, Luke 5:16, Luke 6:12

  • [2] Matthew 12:10, Luke 13:12-17

  • [3] 1 Peter 5:7

  • [4] Matthew 8:24

  • [5] Matthew 8:26

  • [6] Matthew 8:26

  • [7] Isaiah 51:15, Psalm 107:25, Matthew 8:27

  • [8] John 16:33

  • [9] Romans 8:28

  • [10] Psalm 69:1

  • [11] Psalm 22:1, Matthew 27:46

  • [12] Return of the King, J.R.R. Tolkien

  • [13] The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, C.S. Lewis

  • [14] 1 Timothy 6:12

  • [15] Mark 8:35, Mark 9:35

  • [16] Exodus 34:16

  • [17] John 3:3

  • [18] Poor Wayfaring Stranger

  • [19] 1 Corinthians 6:19

  • [20] Isaiah 55:8-9

  • [21] The Myth of Prometheus

  • [22] Colossians 2:10, Hebrews 10:14

  • [23] Psalm 118:6, Psalm 56:11

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