Should America “Stop in the Name of God”?

Jonathon Cherne March/April 2026

Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...

The idea of “Sabbath rest” is experiencing something of a cultural renaissance. Could Sabbath keeping offer benefits beyond just personal renewal?

When Turning Point USA founder Charlie Kirk began sharing his new practice of honoring the biblical Sabbath—setting aside the seventh day of the week to rest and spend time with family and God—it caught the attention of many Christians. Known for his political commentary and forceful debates that made him a standard-bearer for the Christian right, Kirk’s public embrace of Sabbath observance stood out as a rare countercultural move within evangelical culture.

Much of Christianity has regarded Sabbath observance as peripheral—“one of the least of these commandments”—or dismissed it as legalism or “Old Covenant” theology. It therefore surprised many when Kirk, already known for defending traditional conservative positions such as the sanctity of life and biblical marriage, began publicly defending God’s command to rest. He argued that “working seven days a week without pause is not just unhealthy—it is an act of spiritual arrogance.”

According to Kirk, observing God’s weekly Sabbath transformed his life. It revitalized his relationship with Christ, strengthened his marriage, and deepened his connection with his children. Kirk was so enamored with the renewal he experienced that he wrote a book entitled Stop, in the Name of God: Why Honoring the Sabbath Will Transform Your Life (Winning Team Publishing, 2025).

The book was released in December—just four months after Kirk’s highly public assassination at Utah Valley University. In the weeks following his death, preorders of the book surged, sparking renewed national interest in the biblical Sabbath. Christian leaders, political figures, and even commentators on prime-time news programs urged Americans to purchase Kirk’s final work and apply its principles of “rest” to their lives.

What began as a personal spiritual testimony, however, soon expanded into something far more ambitious.

A National Remedy?

Kirk’s vision for Sabbath rest did not end with individual renewal. In the conclusion of his book, he shifts from describing the personal spiritual and relational benefits of Sabbath keeping to imagining its collective impact on this nation. He asks readers to picture what the country would look like “if America began to honor the Sabbath again—not merely as a personal spiritual practice but as a national cultural rhythm” (p. 259).

“The Sabbath,” he writes, “would become not just a private act of worship but a public act of restoration. . . . And slowly, the soul of our nation—tired, frayed, and divided—could begin to heal” (pp. 260, 261).

Regardless of one’s view of Kirk’s politics, this idea of a nationally observed Sabbath raises a profound constitutional question: How could a uniform day of rest fit within America’s longstanding commitment to religious liberty?

Kirk is not alone in suggesting that a uniform weekly day of rest could restore American life. The Heritage Foundation, in its 2026 interim report Saving America by Saving the Family, similarly argues that “a uniform day of rest” could help repair the nation’s social fabric. The report proposes encouraging state and local Sunday blue laws and even offering tax credits to businesses that close on Sundays. According to its authors, a shared rhythm of rest could reverse “spiritual homelessness” and “foster social habits necessary for communities to cohere and flourish.”

These proposals prompt a deeper inquiry: Does America need to be “saved”? And if so, saved from what?

From a theological standpoint, of course, it is not America that needs salvation, but individual Americans. The choice to serve God, or not, is an entirely personal one. Nations cannot accept God’s gift of salvation, and no one can claim a place in the kingdom of God by virtue of their earthly citizenship.

Yet for the sake of argument, suppose America does need saving. Suppose further that a nationally observed weekly Sabbath could contribute to that renewal. Should all Americans—regardless of belief, conviction, or conscience—be required or pressured by the government to “stop and rest” to achieve this noble goal?

Answering that question requires confronting the relative value of freedom itself. Is individual religious liberty foundational? Or may it yield to a perceived common good defined by political or religious majorities?

The Declaration of Independence answers this question. “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.”

From the beginning, the American experiment rested on the conviction that liberty is an unalienable right—granted not by government, but by God. Government exists to secure that liberty, not to define its theological contours. James Madison articulated this principle with striking clarity: “The duty which we owe to our Creator and the manner of discharging it can be directed only by reason and conviction, not by force or violence.”

Even God does not compel men to worship Him. He invites it. “If ye love me,” Jesus said, “keep my commandments” (John 14:15). Obedience divorced from love is not obedience at all—it is mere compliance. Scripture consistently teaches that God values sincerity of heart over outward form.

Form Versus Substance

Proposals to encourage Sabbath observance through tax incentives or public policy risk confusing form with substance. The Heritage Foundation suggests rewarding businesses that close on Sundays with tax credits “to encourage greater observance of a weekly day of rest.” But does compliance motivated by financial inducement cultivate genuine devotion? Or does it merely produce external conformity?

History suggests that when incentives fail, pressure often follows. If political think tanks and policymakers sincerely believe that a uniform day of rest is necessary to “save” the nation, the temptation to move from encouragement to coercion may prove strong.

We need not look centuries back to the era of Constantine to see how appeals to the common good can expand government authority into intimate religious realms. During the COVID-19 pandemic, governments across the country offered doughnuts, beer, and lottery tickets to encourage vaccination. When those incentives proved insufficient, mandates followed. Many Americans faced agonizing choices between vaccination and termination, or the ability to participate in community life. It is easy to see how the growing idea that a uniform day of rest could “save” America could follow the same path.

Kirk himself wrote, “It makes sense, that in an apocalyptic age defined by spiritual deception and false worship, the Sabbath would reemerge as a sign of fidelity.” Indeed, Scripture describes this exact scenario, where a forced worship stands in contrast to true worship. Revelation chapter 13 speaks of a time when the question of faithfulness to God and the biblical Sabbath becomes a decisive question.¹

Ironically, however, a nationally incentivized or prescribed Sunday rest would undermine the very concept of fidelity. Faithfulness requires choice. A uniform, government-sponsored day of rest risks producing mass hypocrisy—outward conformity without inward conviction.

True Sabbath Rest

One of the main problems with promoting the idea of a uniform day of rest—using state power to synchronize American life around Sunday—is that it misunderstands the primary purpose of the Sabbath. It is true that there are physical, mental, and spiritual blessings that result from setting aside one day of the week to spend with God and family. Sabbath means rest, something we all need to be able to function and think. We need rest from work, or we get burned out. We need rest from school, or we lose focus. We need rest from exercise, or we get exhausted. The Sabbath gives us a rest each week during which we don’t have to worry about our homework, checking our work email, scrolling through our social media feed, or worrying about our current BMI. If we truly observe the day as it was meant to be kept, unplugging from the world and plugging into God, we experience physical, mental, and spiritual renewal. Indeed, as Christ told us: “The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27, NKJV).² In a society in which many of us are stressed, anxious, discontented, and depressed, a weekly rest makes sense.

Yet the Sabbath is more than a wellness strategy. If its primary purpose were physical or emotional restoration, any one day in seven would suffice. But Scripture does not present the Sabbath day as interchangeable. God rested on the seventh day, blessed the seventh day, and sanctified the seventh day (Genesis 2:2–3; Exodus 20:10–11; 31:17). The biblical text employs a definite article—the seventh day—underscoring specificity.

In Genesis 1, the other days are simply numbered: first day, second day, third day, and so on. Only the seventh receives a name: Sabbath. God blessed the day itself, not merely the concept of rest.

The fact that God Himself rested shows that the Sabbath was something more than just physical and mental rest. God did not rest because He was weary. “The Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, neither faints nor is weary” (Isaiah 40:28, NKJV). God could have simply ceased His work of creation after six days. Instead, God was setting up a weekly memorial of who He is in relation to who we are. The seventh-day Sabbath was designed to be a weekly reminder that we are the works of God’s hands. “For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested the seventh day” (Exodus 20:11, NKJV; see also Genesis 2:3). “Sabbathing” on another day of the week misses the main purpose of the Sabbath.

Scripture also explains that the Sabbath is the reminder of God as Savior as well. “I … gave them My Sabbaths, to be a sign between them and Me, that they might know that I am the Lord who sanctifies them” (Ezekiel 20:12, NKJV; see also Exodus 31:13). Indeed, when Christ completed His act of salvation at Calvary, He rested from His labors in the grave on the seventh-day Sabbath.³ Thus, God rested both after completing His work of creation and after completing His work of redemption. The primary purpose of resting on the seventh-day Sabbath is to acknowledge God as Creator and Savior. The Sabbath is therefore theological before it is therapeutic.

A Dangerous Proposition

Understanding the Sabbath’s theological depth clarifies why government involvement is so problematic. The Sabbath is not primarily a productivity hack, a family-strengthening technique, or a cultural glue. It is a covenant sign between God and His people.

Attempts to organize national life around Sunday—whether through tax incentives, revived blue laws, or social pressure—not only miss the point of the biblical Sabbath but raise troubling questions about the proper relationship between religion and state.

If the states or federal government adopt policies favoring a uniform day of rest, some citizens may indeed benefit from slower rhythms. Families might spend more time together. Some Americans might get more sleep or exercise. But none of that can regenerate the human heart toward God.

And in seeking to “restore” the nation, such policies risk eroding one of America’s most cherished principles: that the state must remain neutral in matters of religion, and that every person must be free to choose how, when, and whether to worship.

The American commitment to religious liberty protects not only majority Christians but also Jews, Muslims, atheists, Seventh-day Sabbatarians, Sunday observers, and those who observe no day at all. The genius of the First Amendment is that it leaves matters of conscience where they belong—in the conscience.

Charlie Kirk was right about one thing: America is weary. Families are strained. Communities are fragmented. Souls are restless. The biblical seventh-day Sabbath—sundown Friday to sundown Saturday—offers a profound remedy for those willing to receive it freely. But freedom is the necessary precondition of faithfulness.

A coerced uniform day of rest will not revive America’s soul. If the Sabbath is to transform lives, it must be chosen—not compelled. America does not need enforced uniformity to flourish. It needs citizens who are free to follow God according to conscience.

And that freedom—hard won and carefully guarded—is worth preserving.

1 For a scholarly exploration of the meaning of Sabbath within the book of Revelation, see Larry L. Lichtenwalter, “The Seventh-day Sabbath and Sabbath Theology in the Book of Revelation: Creation, Covenant, Sign,” Andrews University Seminary Studies 49, no. 2: 285–320.

3 Luke 23:52-56.

Article Author: Jonathon Cherne

Jonathon Cherne is a religious liberty and estate planning attorney who practices in California and Tennessee. He serves as “Of Counsel” to the Church State Council, representing workers who have suffered religious discrimination in the workplace. He also serves as associate director of American Christian Ministries, formerly known as American Cassette Ministries.

test for sheldon