Spotlight
Remember the Sabbath
By Michael Juntunen
Sabbath is from the Hebrew word Shabbat, which means to cease, desist, or rest. Most people familiar with the term Sabbath tie it to Sunday, our day of rest, when we take a day off work to enjoy time with the family, attend church, or “veg out” watching a football game.
However, God looks at the Sabbath as more than simply a day off work. We find in Exodus 20:8-11 that God established the Sabbath as a special day that we are to keep holy or set apart. Therefore, we are instructed to make the Sabbath different from other days and assign it greater importance. This passage also says that God blessed the Sabbath, indicating that there are some benefits that come to those who keep this special day.
Since God placed so much emphasis on the Sabbath, I wanted to explore the subject to see if I could gain a better understanding of it. I discovered some concepts about the Sabbath that have helped it become more meaningful to me, which I want to share with you.
First, the Sabbath is a matter of lordship.
God tied the Sabbath to His work of creation (Exodus 20:11). He made all of creation in six days, and on the seventh day He rested. Divine rest was a common idea in ancient literature. According to ancient tradition, when the work on their temple was completed, a deity’s rest was obtained, and they would inhabit the temple to take their place as lord to rule over and maintain order in their world.
Isaiah 66:1 (NKJV) says, “Thus says the Lord: ‘Heaven is My throne, and earth is My footstool. Where is the house that you will build Me? And where is the place of My rest?’” Could it be that the six days of creation represent God’s work in building His temple? The seventh day, then, would be the day in which He takes His place on His throne to rule and reign over His creation, establishing Himself as Lord over His Kingdom. Examples of this might be found in Exodus 40:34-38 and 1 Kings 8:10-11 when the work on the tabernacle and Temple of the Lord were completed. The cloud and glory of the Lord filled the buildings, and God came to “rest,” to take His place as Lord over the nation of Israel.
I believe, then, that God wants us to make the Sabbath distinct from any other day to provide an opportunity for us to pause from our regular activities to recognize Him as Creator. It also is a time when we can renew our commitment to Him and surrender our lives to His lordship, a time to allow our Creator God to fill our lives again with His glory and take up residence as our Sovereign Lord.
Second, the Sabbath is a matter of identity.
In Deuteronomy 5:12-15, we see that God connects the Sabbath to Israel’s deliverance from Egypt. When the Israelites were slaves in Egypt, their only responsibility was making bricks. Their value to Pharaoh was in their ability to make bricks. If they could no longer make bricks, they were no longer valuable. As a result of the exodus from Egypt, God delivered them from emotional bondage as well as physical bondage. By giving them a day of rest during which they no longer had to produce, God was saying that their value was not in what they did but in who they were – His people.
Today, we still tend to tie our value and identity to what we do. We work hard to gain approval from our parents, employers, or others whose opinions we value. We want to be productive so we can be seen as successful or at least competent. If we do not perform well or are not as productive as we think we should be, we see ourselves as failures and our value as a human being as diminished.
By giving us a Sabbath rest, God is providing us an opportunity to step back from our busyness and rest in Him. It is a time when we can allow God to speak to us and let us know that our identity is not based upon what we do, but rather on who we are. He values us even on days when we are not producing. God loves us, not because we do things for Him, but simply because we are His children.
Third, the Sabbath is a matter of freedom.
While the Israelites journeyed through the wilderness, God told Moses that He would provide them with manna from heaven every morning (Exodus 16:11-30). The people were to gather only enough manna each morning to feed themselves and their families for that day. They were to do this for six days, but on the seventh day they were not to gather manna for it was to be a Sabbath day. God promised them that on the sixth day they would be able to gather twice as much as on the other days, and they could keep it overnight without it becoming infested with maggots.
The same principle is found in Leviticus 25 when God introduced the Sabbath year and the Year of Jubilee. The Year of Jubilee, however, was declared not only a Sabbath year but also a year of liberty. During the fiftieth year, all lands or homes that were sold due to indebtedness were to be returned to the original owner, and anyone who was forced to sell themselves as a slave was to be released. This is a picture of God’s redemption and restoration of all things as He originally intended them to be.
Jesus tells us, “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” (Matthew 11:28-30, NKJV). He is inviting all of us to stop laboring to please God through our “good works,” to stop working so hard to prove that we are valuable and to quit placing our security and survival on what we can do.
Throughout each of these passages, God stressed that obedience played an important part in receiving blessings, redemption, and freedom (Exodus 16:27-30; Leviticus 25:18-19). The introduction of the Sabbath seemed to be a test to see if God’s followers would trust Him enough to obey Him or if they would feel that their survival depended on what they could do. The writer of Hebrews illustrated this concept by attaching Sabbath rest to Israel’s faith and obedience. Believers are warned not to follow Israel’s example of rebellion against God’s Word. The author stated that because of their disobedience and lack of faith, Israel was not able to enter God’s rest (Hebrews 3:18-19; 4:2).
It is easy for us to be critical of Israel for their lack of faith. But if we are honest with ourselves, are we not guilty of the same thing? Won’t we find that instead of trusting God, we are relying on our own efforts for our provision, security, and survival? When we are confronted with our own financial giants, battling health issues, or facing any number of life’s problems, do we worry about how we are going to work things out? Are we afraid that we may not survive, or do we submit our problems to the Lord and rest in Him, trusting that He will lead us to the right solution?
Jesus tells us, “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” (Matthew 11:28-30, NKJV). He is inviting all of us to stop laboring to please God through our “good works,” to stop working so hard to prove that we are valuable and to quit placing our security and survival on what we can do. Instead, He is asking us to put our faith in Him and follow His yoke (teachings). If we can learn to do that, we can rest – be free from worry and fear.
It is important to designate a day specifically for the Sabbath rest, but Sabbath is not limited to one day. For me, the Sabbath is a mindset that permeates every part of my life. The Sabbath means that I daily recognize God as my Creator and Lord, surrender to His lordship, and invite Him to establish His throne in my life. It also means that I don’t have to try to earn His love and favor by doing things for Him. I can rest in the knowledge that He values me because I am His child and my identity is wrapped in my relationship with Him, not in how much I produce or how successful I am.
As a result, Sabbath also means that I can obey God and follow His path for my life fully trusting that He will protect me and provide for all my needs. My security, success, or survival depends on Him and not on me. Therefore, I am free from worry, fear of failure, or the feeling that I must always perform well to prove my value. I can now rest in the assurance that I am His son, and He is well pleased with me. Sabbath means living in FREEDOM!
About the Author
Mike and Nancy Juntunen pastored churches in the Central and Mountain Plains regions of Open Bible for over thirty years before going to the mission field. They were the directors of INSTE in Hungary for ten years and also assisted in the Open Bible Church in Gherla, Romania, for two years before coming back to the U.S. The Juntunens, currently serving as pastors of Church of the Open Bible in Hardin, Montana, have three grown sons and seven grandchildren.
Ruth Brauer spent decades wondering about the brother she never got to know. Born with Down Syndrome in the 1960s, he’d been sent away with little explanation, and she was discouraged from asking questions. After years of dead ends, a series of connections only God could have orchestrated led to the reunion she’d been praying for. Sixty years after his birth, Ruth finally saw her brother for the first time.
It was March 1960. Ruth was about to turn seven when her baby brother was born on March 8th at Iowa Methodist Hospital. The excitement of finally having a brother to join her and her three sisters quickly turned to confusion as she was unable to meet him. Later, she learned he had Down Syndrome and that doctors had advised her parents to place him in a care facility at the nearby Woodward State Hospital.
“Back in the sixties, that’s just what you did,” Ruth shared. “But I know it tore my parents apart.”
Questions about Alan were shut down. Ruth didn’t know where he was or even his exact birth date.
“I always wondered about him, but I’d get in trouble when I asked.”
Even without knowing him, Ruth had always felt drawn to him. That compassion shaped much of her life. After being invited to Journey Church in 2016 by a friend, Ruth was especially moved by the church’s outreach events for children with special needs. As a barber, her favorite clients were those with special needs, and she also volunteered for years with the Des Moines Special Olympics.
That’s where the first breakthrough came.
One day, she struck up a deeper conversation with a fellow volunteer named Ray. He mentioned he had worked at Woodward State Hospital starting in 1959. Ruth’s attention snapped into focus.
“My brother was there in 1960! His name was Alan Politsch.”
Ray’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened and he began to walk away.
“Wait—what did I say?” Ruth called after him.
I had my hand on the table, and suddenly he was holding it.
“I’m not allowed to talk to you,” he replied. “Your parents banned me from talking to you.”
Still, she pressed him for one thing: a birthdate.
“Please, my parents are gone. I just want to find my brother.”
Before the day ended, Ray quietly gave her the month and day. It was enough to start, but not enough to get through the wall of privacy protections. Every group home she contacted turned her away.
Years passed.
Then another door opened—this time at a food pantry. Ruth shared her story with a volunteer named Bob, who offered to connect her with someone in the state department.
“They may not even call you,” he warned.
But they did.
The woman on the phone didn’t give her name, but simply said, “Bob said I needed to hear your story.” Ruth told her everything she knew: names, dates, places, family history. Weeks later, the phone rang again.
“Hi, this is Michelle,” the voice said. “I’m Alan’s guardian.”
Tears falling, Ruth began to speak.
“I don’t want to take anything from you. I just want to know he’s okay… maybe see a picture. And someday, maybe meet him.”
As she spoke, Ruth’s phone began to ping. Michelle was sending photos.
The call came in 2021, but it would take almost two years to build enough trust for a visit.
In August of 2023, Ruth was invited to a staff meeting at Alan’s care facility. As she sat in the room with nine other employees staring at her, Michelle walked into the room, Alan beside her, and guided him to the seat right next to Ruth.
I always felt like he was close by,” Ruth said. “I just didn’t know he was five miles away my whole life.
“He kept looking at me, nodding, with this little crooked smile,” Ruth said. “I had my hand on the table, and suddenly he was holding it.”
A nurse watching over video spoke up: “He knows you’re his sister.”
The bond was immediate and mutual.
“I always felt like he was close by,” Ruth said. “I just didn’t know he was five miles away my whole life.”
Since that day, they’ve spent birthdays and holidays together.
“He’s the best,” she said. “He fits right under my arm—he’s tiny. He loves Santa, the color red, Coke, and sunglasses.”
But the reunion has come with weight, too. Now 66, Alan’s health is declining, and Ruth has been asked to help plan his funeral.
“I just found him,” she said. “And now I’m helping plan his funeral… But he’s mine. He’s my baby brother. The one I waited for when I was seven.”
Looking back, Ruth continues to uncover the fingerprints of God. Ray, the man who first gave her Alan’s birthdate, later shared that he had cared for Alan during his first sixteen years at the hospital.
What are the odds?
When asked what this journey has taught her, Ruth doesn’t hesitate:
“Patience, persistence, prayer, and people.” That’s what it took to find her brother, and it’s what the Lord provided along the way.
Some stories don’t unfold quickly. Many of them take time, and it’s only later that we realize how God was working in our waiting. Ruth’s story serves as a reminder that no prayer is forgotten, no relationship is beyond reach, and that even in life’s chapters that feel long or uneventful, God is still writing.
About the Author
Hannah Bemis currently serves as the editor and director of Message of the Open Bible. She always wanted to do too many things when she grew up, and God has been kind enough to let her do most of them in different seasons. After seasons of mothering, teaching, writing, and staff pastoring, Hannah’s most recent adventure is planting and pastoring College Street Church in Newberg, Oregon, with her husband, Jordan. After Jesus and all her favorite people, she spends the remainder of her passion on pizza and dark chocolate in equal measure.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV).
There is a quiet invitation woven through these words – an invitation into constant, total dependence on God. We often imagine maturity as having our act together, managing our lives with unshakable strength. But in God’s kingdom, maturity looks nothing like self-reliance. It looks like surrender.
… in God’s kingdom, maturity looks nothing like self-reliance. It looks like surrender.
Just as valleys are watered with rain and become fruitful while lofty mountains remain dry, so it is with our hearts. The low places – the humbling, honest valleys – are where God’s grace pools and grows us. The heights of self-confidence, the illusions that we’ve got everything under control, stay barren.
Grace is not just God’s favor; it is His love set in motion toward us. When Paul begged God to remove the thorn in his life, God didn’t take it away. He gave Paul something far more powerful: grace. Sometimes relief comes by His removing the burden, but sometimes God strengthens the shoulders that carry it.
This past year, I’ve walked through my own valleys in ways I could never have anticipated. An abnormal mammogram led to surgery, which revealed breast cancer. By God’s miraculous hand, the tumor was removed completely, with clear margins and no spread although the tumor was dangerously close to my lymph nodes – a reminder of God’s perfect timing, protection, and faithfulness.
But the challenges didn’t end there. Amid cancer treatment, autoimmune flare-ups, and the toll on my body, I experienced alarming numbness on the left side of my face, suddenly losing strength in my left arm and leg. A trip to the ER revealed a nearly blocked right carotid artery, a tear likely caused by a fall I’d taken months prior, and a blood clot that could have caused a massive stroke.
Yet in the middle of chaos as we prepared for worst case scenarios, God’s grace showed up. Within a day of their being detected, scans revealed that both the clot and tear were gone. Every doctor involved was astonished. I was walking, speaking, and moving with minimal effects – a miracle too clear to dismiss.
In these moments, I’ve learned that we don’t truly trust God’s grace until we first admit we are insufficient. It’s easier to believe in grace for the past or the future. But grace for this moment, right here, in the pressing reality of fear, pain, and uncertainty, requires a present-tense, radical faith.
God didn’t just supplement my strength; He became my strength. He reminded me that the thorn doesn’t defeat us; it becomes the doorway through which His glory steps in. My husband, family, friends, and the countless prayers lifted on my behalf became vessels of God’s love, reminding me that what looks like an ending is often where He does His best work.
… the thorn doesn’t defeat us; it becomes the doorway through which His glory steps in.
Through lingering numbness and nerve pain in my face (Trigeminal neuralgia), vision issues in my left eye, and the exhaustion of hospital stays and oncology appointments, God has been teaching me to release my grip on self-sufficiency. Every test, every scan, every unknown has been a lesson in dependence, a sacred invitation to rest fully in Him. He meets us in both the dramatic and the mundane.
As we face uncertainty and continue to navigate treatments, recoveries, and the unknown, the same promise remains: His grace is sufficient. His power is made perfect in weakness. My valleys have become fertile soil, and in surrendering, I’ve discovered strength I never possessed alone.
To anyone reading this, let this be a challenge and an encouragement: don’t wait for the mountains to feel secure. Step into your valley. Admit your insufficiency. Rest in grace. Let God’s power carry you through the moments you cannot handle on your own. Because in the valleys, in the weakness, God is not just present – He is gloriously, powerfully enough.
About the Author
Sarah Holsapple serves on staff at her church in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, as the Creative & Spiritual Development Director. She serves alongside her husband of almost twenty years, Harris, who is the lead pastor at First Open Bible. Sarah has been teaching and preaching for several years. She’s passionate about discipleship and women’s ministry and served as the Regional Women’s Director for Open Bible Central Region. One of her favorite things in life is being a mom to her two incredible children, Hudson and Lynnley Jo.
The last several years for Sarah have been the hardest of her life. She truly knows the depths of heartbreak and what it feels like to wrestle through healing. She has seen God move in miraculous ways and has experienced great comfort in knowing that we serve a faithful God. Sarah feels great joy in sharing encouragement from the word of God, seeing lives changed and people set free!
My wife, Leona, was at an eye exam, and I was waiting in the lobby when a good-looking couple walked in. Thinking they were Hispanic, I greeted them in Spanish. With a look of surprise, they responded that they didn’t understand. Noticing their accent, I asked what language they spoke. “Arabic,” they replied. They were from Cairo, Egypt.
“I was just there!” I exclaimed. We introduced ourselves, and when they asked about my trip, I explained that I had gone to teach at INSTE Global Bible College. As we talked, we discovered common ground—Youssef and Fatima are both college professors, and Leona and I also work in higher education.
When the conversation turned to food, my Italian roots—revealed by my surname—caught their interest. I asked them what their favorite Italian dish was. “We love eggplant parmesan,” they answered.
“Would you come to our house for dinner if I made that?” I asked. They gladly accepted. When Leona’s appointment ended, we compared calendars and set a date to host Youssef, Fatima, and their four sons.
At home we talked about what to do with our dog Barney. Living in a townhome, we couldn’t put him outside. Knowing that Muslims traditionally view dogs as unclean, we decided to banish Barney to our finished basement during the visit.
Before dinner, we explained our custom of thanking God for our food. They understood, appreciating that we blessed them also in our prayer. Conversation flowed easily as we shared the meal. Afterward, the younger boys, full of energy, spotted the basement stairs. Leona explained about Barney, assuring Fatima that he was friendly. With her permission, the boys bounded downstairs to play with one very happy dog. The older boys preferred the TV room to watch football, while we lingered at the table with Youssef and Fatima, enjoying the chance to connect as fellow educators. Our first dinner together was a success.
As Fatima and Leona washed the dishes, the conversation was salted with quotes from the Koran and the Bible…
That Thanksgiving, we invited the family back to share in a traditional holiday meal. Barney had a sleepover at Leona’s sister’s house this time. We set the table for a 1:00 p.m. feast, but our guests were delayed returning from Wisconsin and arrived closer to 5:00. Once gathered, we enjoyed another rich time together.
Leona and Fatima washed dishes side by side, as Youssef and I chatted in the living room. All four boys bundled into the TV room to watch sports. Later, gathered by the fireplace, Youssef asked, “Does the Bible talk about the end of the world?” He was genuinely interested in comparing Christian and Muslim viewpoints on the end times. We had a very interesting conversation that evening! It was 11:00 p.m. when six-year-old Ahmed sleepily stumbled from the TV room, asking, “Can we go home now?” Shortly thereafter, we said good night to our guests with gratitude for another memorable evening.
Months later, Youssef and Fatima invited us to their home for the Muslim celebration of Eid, marking the close of Ramadan. Fatima had prepared the traditional feast of Egyptian dishes. We arrived in time to count down to sunset, and then the banquet began. As Fatima and Leona washed the dishes, the conversation was salted with quotes from the Koran and the Bible as Fatima explained Eid. The rest of the evening was filled with relaxing conversation, along with plans to get together for the Fourth of July.
Friendship and food opened doors for evangelism.
Our last gathering was at Christmas. Once again, we shared a meal, meaningful conversation, and plenty of laughter. Wanting to give them New Testaments in a respectful way, we sought guidance from friends experienced in ministry to Muslims. Following their advice, we wrapped the books beautifully, adding a heartfelt note expressing our joy in their friendship. We presented the gifts as they left that evening. Though we haven’t heard from them since, we often remember Youssef, Fatima, and their boys in prayer. Friendship and food opened doors for evangelism. We learned that sensitivity to cultural and religious differences keeps those doors open, and above all, we were reminded to live out 1 Peter 3:15: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect…” (NIV).
About the Authors
Leona K. Venditti, EdD, and Nicholas A Venditti, PhD, met in Madrid, Spain. In 1982, Leona was sent by Open Bible’s Department of Global Missions to start a training program which has since grown into INSTE Global Bible College. It has expanded to more than forty countries and eighteen languages. Together, the Vendittis continue to “make disciples and develop leaders” both nationally and globally as they mentor many cross-cultural followers of Jesus.