07 A God Of Rest And Redemption Series

Palm Sunday is a day of paradox. Crowds shout “Hosanna!” but miss the King they’re praising. Palm branches wave in celebration of the freedom they hoped Jesus would bring, but He rides in on a donkey, not a war horse. The people longed for deliverance from Rome, but Jesus came to deliver their souls. They wanted rest from oppression, but He came to offer a deeper rest than they could ever imagine. It’s as if everything they hoped for was almost right … but not quite.

And maybe that’s where some of us are today–even on this Palm Sunday. You’re looking for peace, but it keeps slipping through your fingers. You’ve found moments of relief, but not the kind of rest that anchors your soul. You’ve prayed for freedom, but still feel like a prisoner to fear and anxiety; sin and shame. You’ve waved your own kind of palm branch—asking God to show up, to intervene, to fix something. But like that crowd, maybe we’ve misunderstood what kind of King Jesus really is … and what kind of salvation He came to bring.

You see, He didn’t ride into Jerusalem just to make life more manageable.

He came to make it new.

He didn’t come just to give us a break from the routine of life.

He came to give us true rest in Him.

Not just from work, but from the deeper weariness beneath it all.

Not just from slavery in Egypt, but from the bondage in our hearts.

Not just to cancel debts, but to redeem us back to God Himself.

And that longing in our hearts—that ache for something more than this world can give—is not something to hide or push away. It’s something Jesus came to fulfill.

Only Jesus gives the rest we long for and the redemption we need.

What we see in the final chapters of Leviticus is a picture of God’s heart for His people—a sacred rhythm of rest, redemption, and restoration that points beyond the land of Israel to the Kingdom of Christ. The commands about Sabbath years and Jubilee redemption weren’t just agricultural and social policies; they were divine signposts, pointing forward to the kind of peace and freedom only God can give.

On this Palm Sunday, as we remember the King who rode into Jerusalem to lay down His life, we’re reminded that His mission was always about more than temporary relief. It was about fulfilling this very promise of God—bringing lasting rest and ultimate redemption to weary, broken people like us.

Let’s begin with the first truth we see in Leviticus 25. As God’s people, we are:

I. Resting in God’s Provision (Leviticus 25:1-22; 26:1-13)

Let’s turn to the book of Leviticus, chapter 25, where God begins to lay out this rhythm of rest for His people. Leviticus 25, beginning in verse 1:

The Lord then spoke to Moses at Mount Sinai, saying, “Speak to the sons of Israel and say to them, ‘When you come into the land which I shall give you, then the land shall have a sabbath to the Lord. Six years you shall sow your field, and six years you shall prune your vineyard and gather in its crop, but during the seventh year the land shall have a sabbath rest, a sabbath to the Lord; you shall not sow your field nor prune your vineyard.

Now look down at verse 20 …

But if you say, “What are we going to eat on the seventh year if we do not sow or gather in our crops?” then I will so order My blessing for you in the sixth year that it will bring forth the crop for three years. When you are sowing the eighth year, you can still eat old things from the crop, eating the old until the ninth year when its crop comes in.

And now turn to chapter 26, beginning with verse 2 …

You shall keep My sabbaths and reverence My sanctuary; I am the Lord. If you walk in My statutes and keep My commandments so as to carry them out, then I shall give you rains in their season, so that the land will yield its produce and the trees of the field will bear their fruit. Indeed, your threshing will last for you until grape gathering, and grape gathering will last until sowing time. You will thus eat your food to the full and live securely in your land.

God established a rhythm of rest for His people—not as a burden, but as a blessing. Every seventh day, every seventh year, and ultimately, every fiftieth year, the Israelites were commanded to stop striving and trust in the provision of God. The Sabbath year and the Year of Jubilee were radical resets rooted in God's character and care. They were tangible reminders that everything belongs to Him—land, labor, and life itself.