Menuchah and Zakar: Remembering Rest

When was the last time you truly took a rest?

Rest isn’t just about taking a nap — it’s about letting the soul breathe. As I continue learning about Messianic Jewish theology, I’ve been drawn to a few Hebrew words that speak directly to the heart.

One of them is menuchah (meh-NOO-khah, מְנוּחָה) — the word for rest or tranquil repose.

Yesterday, during Shabbat, I realized why time seemed to lose its grip on me. Usually, when I go to church, I sing worship songs, stand there quietly, and — if I’m honest — sometimes drift off during the sermon. My dad did it all the time when I was growing up, and I guess I followed in his Sunday tradition of the holy nap.

But Shabbat felt different. I sang, clapped, and let the Hebrew words roll through me, listening closely as the Rabbi taught from the Torah. Somewhere in the middle of it all, I found rest — not sleep, but menuchah, the kind that anchors your soul.

Psalm 116:7 says:

“Return, my soul, to your rest (menuchaychi), for the LORD has dealt bountifully with you.”

As I learned this concept, I couldn’t help but wonder if it also had to do with death. In fact, it does have a connection with death, but not as something dark.

In Hebrew thought, when a person dies, it’s said that they “enter their menuchah,” meaning eternal rest — peace in the presence of HaShem.

So when we say a soul has entered menuchah, it means they’ve returned to the deep Sabbath rest of God — Shabbat without end.

In Messianic Judaism, menuchah carries an even deeper layer: it points to Yeshua Himself.

He said:

“Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

That “rest” is menuchah — resting from striving, sin, and separation, and finding completeness in Messiah.

As I reflected later, another word came to mind — zakar (זָכָר), meaning “to remember.” Shabbat isn’t just about resting; it’s about remembering. God didn’t rest because He was tired — He rested to remember and delight in what He had made. When we enter menuchah, we’re not escaping life, we’re remembering who we are in the Creator’s hands. For me, that’s what Saturday felt like — not a nap from the world, but a remembrance of something older than time itself.

Psalm 77:12 says:

“I will remember (zakar) the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember (zakar) Your wonders of old.”

That verse hit me today. Because remembering isn’t passive — it’s an act of avodah (service, worship). When temptation came, I remembered His commands not to khata (חָטָא) — not to miss the mark or give in to my yetzer hara (evil inclination, the animal instinct within). I remembered that menuchah doesn’t mean giving the flesh whatever it wants; it means letting the spirit lead.

So instead of feeding my yetzer hara, I chose to zakar — to remember His goodness, His patience, His promises. And in doing that, I found rest again.

But this rest — this menuchah — isn’t something we can earn. It’s something that was given. From the beginning, God established the Sabbath as a shadow of what was to come — a sign pointing toward redemption. Humanity lost that rest through khata, through missing the mark. But Yeshua restored it at the cross.

He became our eternal menuchah. On the cross He said, “It is finished,” echoing the seventh day of creation when God rested. In Him, the work is complete. Through His blood, the barrier between God and humanity was torn down. Through His resurrection, He made a way for us to enter that everlasting Shabbat — not one day a week, but forever.

The Gospel, in its simplest form, is zakar and menuchah together — to remember what God has done, and to rest in what Yeshua has finished.

Every time I choose obedience over impulse, I remember that I’m no longer a slave to the yetzer hara. Every time I rest in His presence, I’m declaring that I trust His work more than my own.

And then I thought of Yeshua’s words once more: “Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” That’s menuchah — the rest that doesn’t fade when the sun goes down. But it’s also zakar — the remembering of who we are and whose we are.

In that sacred space, I wasn’t just attending a service; I was remembering the story I’m part of — the story of a God who rested, remembered, and redeemed. Shabbat reminded me that true rest isn’t found in a bed or a break, but in belonging — in being held by the One who finished His work and invites us to rest in it.

If you’ve never experienced this rest, Yeshua invites you even now: Come, and enter His menuchah.

Lay down your burdens, remember (zakar) His mercy, and find your soul’s rest in Him.

Shabbat Shalom u’Menuchah — peace, rest, and remembrance in Yeshua the Messiah.

Author’s Note:

This reflection is part of my ongoing journey studying Messianic Jewish theology as a follower of Yeshua. My hope is that through exploring the Hebrew roots of our faith, others might see the Gospel in its fullness — a story of rest, remembrance, and redemption.