The Sabbath, Sunday, and the Rest We Find in Christ

Few biblical subjects create as much confusion as the Sabbath. Should Christians observe it today? If not, why do so many Christians worship on Sunday? And is Sunday somehow the Christian version of the Old Testament Sabbath?

The best place to begin is not with tradition, history, or what we have always heard. It is with Scripture.

Genesis tells us that God rested on the seventh day after completing His work of creation. But while Genesis records God's rest and the sanctifying of the seventh day, it does not record a command for Adam, Noah, Abraham, or the other patriarchs to observe a weekly Sabbath. The Sabbath becomes a covenant command when God establishes Israel as His covenant people.

The Sabbath was a meaningful part of that covenant. It reminded Israel that God was their Creator and their Redeemer. Deuteronomy connects the Sabbath specifically with their deliverance from Egyptian slavery, while Exodus calls it a sign between God and Israel.

So the Sabbath was not simply a day off. It was a covenant reminder:  We belong to God. He created us, He redeemed us, and He has called us to Himself.

That raises an obvious question:  If Jesus kept the Sabbath, shouldn't Christians keep it too?

Jesus certainly did observe the Sabbath. He was "born under the law" (Galatians 4:4), and He perfectly fulfilled the Law. But Jesus also declared that He was "Lord of the Sabbath" (Mark 2:28). He was not merely showing people how to observe the Sabbath; He was revealing that something greater was coming.

That something greater was Himself.

The Old Covenant was never God's final destination. Through Jeremiah, God promised a "new covenant" (Jeremiah 31:31). Jesus announced that this covenant was established through His blood (Luke 22:20). At the cross, the sacrificial system, priesthood, and other elements of the Old Covenant reached their fulfillment in Christ.

Paul gives us an especially helpful way to understand this when he writes that certain Old Covenant observances, including "sabbaths," were "a shadow of things to come, but the substance is of Christ" (Colossians 2:16–17).

A shadow is not something bad. A shadow tells us that something real is approaching. But when the person arrives, we don't continue staring at the shadow. We look at the person.

The Sabbath was a shadow — Christ is the substance.

This also helps us understand Sunday.

Christians do not gather on Sunday because God moved the Sabbath from the seventh day to the first. The New Testament never gives such a command. Sunday is significant for a different reason:  Jesus rose from the dead on the first day of the week.

The early church gathered on the first day (Acts 20:7), Paul gave instructions concerning their collection on the first day (1 Corinthians 16:2), and John referred to "the Lord's Day" (Revelation 1:10). The first day became associated with the risen Christ and the gathering of His people.

So Sunday is not the Sabbath moved to another day — It is the day on which we remember that the tomb was empty.

And perhaps that leads us to the most important point of all.

The Sabbath ultimately pointed beyond a day of physical rest toward the deeper rest that God offers His people. Jesus said:  "Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."  — Matthew 11:28

Notice that Jesus did not say, "Come to a day." — He said, "Come to Me."

Our deepest rest is not found on a particular day of the week. It is found in trusting Christ and resting in what He has already accomplished for us.

That does not make the Sabbath unimportant. Quite the opposite. It helps us understand why it was important. It was part of God's unfolding plan, pointing His people toward something greater.

And now that Christ has come, we don't need to keep looking for the shadow — we look to Him.

The Sabbath pointed toward God's completed work of creation. The resurrection points toward God's completed work of redemption.

The Sabbath offered rest from physical labor. Christ offers rest for weary souls.

And that is a rest worth finding — not just once a week, but every day.

Christ Jesus or Jesus Christ? Does the Order Matter?

 As you read through the New Testament, you may notice something interesting. Sometimes a writer refers to "Jesus Christ," while at other times he writes "Christ Jesus." Is there a difference, or are the two expressions simply interchangeable?

The answer is both yes and no.

The first thing to understand is that "Christ" is not Jesus' last name. It is a title. The Greek word “Christos” means "Anointed One," or "Messiah." Jesus is His personal name, while Christ describes His God-given role as the promised Savior and King foretold throughout the Old Testament.

When a writer in the New Testament says "Jesus Christ," his emphasis is often on identifying Jesus of Nazareth as the promised Messiah. It is something like saying, "Jesus is the Christ." This concept was the central message of the apostles' preaching.

One of the apostles, Peter, expressed this truth when he declared, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God" (Matthew 16:16). And again, the Apostle John told his writers that he wrote his Gospel "that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God" (John 20:31).

Now, on the other hand, the expression "Christ Jesus" often places the title first, then draws attention to Jesus' exalted position as the Messiah before mentioning His personal name. This word order appears especially often in the writings of the Apostle Paul.

For example, Paul wrote, "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners" (1 Timothy 1:15). Beginning with the title reminds Paul’s readers that the One who came to earth was God's Anointed King and Redeemer.

Many Bible students have noticed this pattern. "Jesus Christ" frequently emphasizes the historical Jesus as the promised Messiah, while "Christ Jesus" often emphasizes the risen and reigning Messiah. It is much like saying "King David" or "David the king." Both refer to the same person, but each places the emphasis in a slightly different place.

At the same time, we should be careful not to make more of this observation than Scripture itself does. This is not a grammatical rule, nor is it a doctrine on which beliefs should be built. The New Testament writers sometimes use the expressions interchangeably, and there are a few exceptions to the pattern. The distinction is simply an observation that often helps us appreciate the emphasis of a particular passage.

Something to think about whenever we study the Bible:  not every pattern is intended to establish doctrine. Sound doctrine comes from the clear teaching of Scripture, not from subtle differences that may or may not be significant in every context.

Even so, noticing these expressions can bring some richness and depth to our reading. They remind us that the man Jesus of Nazareth is also the promised Messiah, the risen Lord, and God's chosen Redeemer.

Whether Scripture says "Jesus Christ" or "Christ Jesus," it points us to the same glorious Person. The order of the words may sometimes highlight a different emphasis, but the message never changes:  Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, who came into the world to save sinners and now reigns as Lord.

Paying attention to these details helps us become more careful readers of Scripture. But our confidence rests not in the order of two words, but in the One to whom they both refer.

The Boys Jesus Never Grew Up With

In Matthew's account of Herod's massacre we see one of the darkest moments in the story of Jesus’ birth. We often pass over it quickly, eager to move on from the manger to the ministry of Jesus. But, I think Matthew records the event for a reason.

"When Herod saw that he was deceived by the wise men, he was exceedingly angry; and he sent forth and put to death all the male children who were in Bethlehem and in all its districts, from two years old and under..." 

(Matthew 2:16)

Think about it for a moment. What that event meant.

If Jesus later returned to Bethlehem as a child, He may have found something hauntingly different from what most children experience. The boys who would likely have been His playmates—the children who might have raced with Him through the streets, climbed the hillsides, or learned trades alongside Him—were gone. Herod's soldiers had taken them.

Now, I can’t say with certainty that every boy Jesus would have known was killed, but it is certainly possible that many, if not most, of the boys close to His age were among Herod's victims. Bethlehem was a small village. Historians estimate its population may have been only a few hundred people, meaning the number of young boys was likely small, but the tragedy devastated an entire community.

Imagine growing up in a town where nearly every family had an empty place at the table.

Imagine mothers who could never hear a child's laughter without remembering the one they had lost.

Imagine fathers whose dreams for their sons had vanished in a single terrible morning.

Jesus was spared because God warned Joseph in a dream, and the family fled to Egypt before Herod's soldiers arrived (Matthew 2:13–15). God's plan of redemption depended on the Messiah living to fulfill His mission. Jesus was preserved because He had come to become the sacrifice that would one day conquer death itself.

Those little boys died because another king feared losing his throne.

Jesus would later die because He willingly gave up His throne's privileges to save the world.

Suffering Was Not Foreign to Jesus

There is another lesson here that is easy to miss. From His earliest days, Jesus lived in a world marked by violence, injustice, and grief. We sometimes picture His childhood as peaceful and untouched by sorrow. But even before He could speak, hatred pursued Him. Before He ever preached about suffering, suffering had already touched His family.

Mary and Joseph became refugees in Egypt. Families in Bethlehem buried their sons. Rachel, as Jeremiah had foretold, was pictured as "weeping for her children" (Matthew 2:18; Jeremiah 31:15).

The shadow of the cross stretches all the way back to the cradle.

There is one more thought worth considering.

Those children remind us that following God's plan does not always shield innocent people from pain. We live in a broken world where evil rulers make evil choices, and innocent people often suffer the consequences. The massacre at Bethlehem is not evidence that God was absent. It is evidence that humanity desperately needed the Savior who had come.

Ironically, Herod accomplished the opposite of what he intended. He sought to stop God's plan by killing children. Instead, his cruelty became another witness to the truth of Scripture and another reminder that no earthly king can overturn God's purposes.

The little boys of Bethlehem are never named. History has forgotten them.

But God has not.

Their story quietly reminds us that Jesus did not come into a perfect world. He came into our world—a world filled with sorrow, injustice, fear, and death. And He came precisely because that is the kind of world that needed saving.

The children Jesus never grew up with point us to the Man who would one day grow up to lay down His own life so that death would not have the final word.

When Desire Meets Discipleship

I think one of the more confusing ideas in our culture today is the belief that if someone is “born” with a certain desire or inclination, then that desire should automatically be accepted and embraced without question.

The reasoning usually goes something like this:  “If this is natural for me… then it must be right for me.”

And if anyone suggests restraint, self-control, or moral boundaries, that person is often viewed as hateful or uncaring.

But when you really stop and think about it, that idea falls apart pretty quickly.

The truth is, every one of us is born with tendencies we are not supposed to simply give ourselves over to. We all have weaknesses. We all have desires that pull us in wrong directions. That is part of being human in a fallen world.

One person may naturally struggle with anger. Another with pride. Another with selfishness. Someone else may battle greed, jealousy, lust, dishonesty, or addiction.

The Bible never teaches that every natural desire is good simply because it feels natural.

Not All Bubbles Rise the Same: Strength That Helps Others Grow

The next time you are near an aquarium, don’t watch the fish, pay attention to the bubbles. I’m convinced you will notice something simple and surprisingly meaningful, but something you’ve never taken the time to think about. All the bubbles rise—but not all in the same way. 

Some bubbles are large and move quickly, almost effortlessly. Others are small and drift around on their way upward at a little slower rate. Some rise in a straight line, while others slide along the glass. And every now and then, a bubble gets caught on a plant or decoration, pausing for a time before finally continuing upward.

When you think about it, that’s a lot like the Christian life.

All believers are moving toward Christ, but not at the same pace or in the same way. Some Christians appear strong, steady, and confident. Others struggle. Some hesitate. A few get “stuck” along the way. And that raises an important question:  What should strong Christians do with the weaknesses of others?

The Bible’s answer is both clear and challenging:  help them rise.

When Our Past Gains Weight

I recently learned that German culture has an interesting word that sounds funny to Americans—Kummerspeck. It comes from Germany, and it literally means “grief bacon.” 

The word describes the weight someone might gain during a season of sorrow. Often, when grief settles into our hearts, it shows up in our habits, energy levels, and even on our bathroom scales.

That word reminds us of an important truth:  what we carry inside eventually shows up somewhere.

The same thing can happen to us spiritually.

What Does a Bread Machine Teach Us About Worship?

I enjoy using my bread machine. There’s something quietly satisfying about pouring in the ingredients, closing the lid, and letting it do its work. A little flour, some water, sugar, a packet of yeast—and before long, the whole loaf begins to change. That small amount of yeast works its way through everything. You don’t see it happening, but there is no way you can miss the results.

That experience has helped me think more carefully about a conversation I had with a friend who said it didn’t really matter whether the bread used in Communion was leavened or not. On one level, I understand the sentiment. God cares about the heart, not the recipe. But Scripture also shows us that God teaches through symbols—and when it comes to leaven, the Bible is remarkably consistent. And—if you’ve ever watched yeast do its work in making bread, that consistency starts to make a lot of sense.

Forgiveness is the Sweetest Word in the World

You know, sometimes the best ideas for sermons don’t arrive while you’re staring at a blank page—they sneak up on you in the middle of someone else’s sermon. That’s what happened to me last week while listening to my brother-in-law preach. He said something simple, almost in passing, but it hit me like a hymnbook falling off the back of a pew:  “Forgiveness is the sweetest word in the world.”

Now, I’m not usually one to steal material… but I am willing to borrow it aggressively, so . . . 

Why Baptism Is Necessary According to Scripture

Baptism has been a subject of a lot of discussion among sincere believers. Some see it as simply a symbol of faith, while others understand it as being an essential part of responding to the gospel. But have you ever asked, “What does Scripture actually teach?”

The Upside-Down Kingdom: Living by the Values of Jesus

When I was younger, I remember hearing a story about how hunters used to catch monkeys in parts of Asia and Africa. It’s really kind of simple. They take a hollow gourd, tie it to a tree, and cut a small hole in the side. The hole is just big enough for a monkey’s open hand to fit through. Then they drop a piece of fruit or something shiny inside. The curious monkey reaches in, grabs the treat, and suddenly finds its clenched fist is too big to pull back out. All it would have to do to escape is let go of what it is holding. But it doesn’t. It stubbornly holds on to what it wants, and that keeps it trapped until the hunter arrives.

We can smile at the foolishness of that little monkey—but we shouldn’t laugh too hard. Spiritually speaking, we do the same thing.

Singing From the Heart: God’s Way of Worship

When you think about worship, what comes to mind? For some, it’s the sound of a choir, the swell of an organ, or the strum of a guitar. For others, it’s the simple, unaccompanied voices of Christians singing together. But instead of asking, “What do I prefer?” or “What sounds good to me?”—the better question is:  “What does God want?”

Jesus as Lord and Savior: Faith, Struggle, and True Success

As Christians, when we say that Jesus is our Lord and Savior, we are really acknowledging two sides of an incredible relationship. As our Savior, Jesus rescues us from sin and offers us eternal life through His death and resurrection (John 3:16; Romans 5:8). As our Lord, He calls us to live under His authority, surrendering our lives to His guidance and leadership (Luke 6:46; Philippians 2:9–11). Both are essential. Receiving Him as Savior gives us hope for eternity, but recognizing Him as Lord changes how we live every day.

Think of the lifeguard at the beach. If you are drowning and the lifeguard pulls you out of the water—that’s salvation. But if the same lifeguard then tells you, “Don’t go back into that dangerous current,” following his instructions is an act of obedience to his lordship. Jesus doesn’t just save us from death; He leads us into a new way of living.