In Luke 6:1–5, Jesus and his disciples are walking through a grainfield on the Sabbath. They pluck heads of grain, rub them in their hands, and eat—simple, human acts of hunger and provision. But to the Pharisees, this was a violation. They deemed it “work” (beware when the powerful try to box you in with their definitions).
“Why are you doing what is not lawful on the Sabbath?” they ask. Instead of staying in their box, Jesus answers with a story. He reminds them of David, who—when hungry—entered the house of God and ate the bread reserved for priests. Then he says something even more provocative: “The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.”
This moment is more than a defense of behavior—it’s a revelation of authority, and an invitation into something deeper: Grace.
At The Way of Mission, we talk a lot about Grace—not just as forgiveness, but as the empowering presence of God that meets us in our real lives. Grace is not opposed to effort; it’s opposed to earning. And Sabbath, rightly understood, is a rhythm soaked in Grace.
It’s not about proving our worth by perfect rest or perfect work. It’s about trusting that Jesus—Lord of the Sabbath—has already done the work that sets us free. Sabbath becomes a space of holy resistance: not just a break from labor, but a break from striving. It’s where we remember who God is, and in doing so, remember who we are.
When Jesus says he is Lord of the Sabbath, he isn’t casting off the practice. He’s reclaiming it. Reclaiming it from legalism, and restoring its original purpose: restoration, mercy, communion, and joy.
In a culture that worships productivity and efficiency, Sabbath is a countercultural act. It’s a gentle rebellion against the powers that say you are only as good as what you produce. It’s a declaration that Grace gets the final word.
So, make space for Sabbath—not just to stop, but to receive. Let it be a day, or rather, a way, of delight, of trust, of breathing in the unforced rhythms of Grace. After all, the one who calls himself Lord of the Sabbath is also the one who says, “Come to me, all you who are weary… and I will give you rest.”