5th Sunday after Pentecost
July 9, 2017
Matthew 11:25-30
Before the seasons of Advent and Lent each year our
Bishop hosts a Bishop’s Day Apart for clergy. This past February, before Lent
began, Bishop Easterling invited her former seminary professor, the Rev. Dr.
Zina Jacque, who titled the day, “Lent and Other Four-Letter Words.” I borrowed
the idea for my Lenten sermon series last spring, turning our membership vows when
you join the church into four-letter words. It was a lot of fun. Apparently, I
still have it on the brain, because looking at this morning’s Gospel, and those
well-known verses at the end of it, what stood out to me were the four-letter
words. And not just that they were four letters, but that we often treat them
as curse words. Yoke? Really? Who wants to be tied down? We live in a society
that’s all about changing jobs, changing houses, changing spouses when the
previous one doesn’t work for us anymore. The idea of rest is just as bad. We
tend to value busyness and accomplishments more than we value rest. It’s
probably not surprising that Matthew 11:28-30 is a favorite passage for so many
people because Jesus speaks about rest
for our souls. Rest for our souls. What does that look like? What does that
feel like? Do you find it on a weekly basis? One day a week is supposed to be
Sabbath, kept apart, a day that is holy for God, a day when you don’t work,
however you define work for you. Whether it’s not your day job or not vacuuming
the house or maybe a day when you don’t have to get in the car, one day a week
is to rest. That’s in addition to
each night (or each day if you work nights). After six days of creating, God
took a day and rested from the work of creating the heavens and the earth. And
Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy burdened, and I will
give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and
humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and
my burden is light.”
Did you notice the very first four-letter word there? Before Jesus talks about rest or
yokes, Jesus says, “Come. Come to me.” It’s an invitation. It’s hospitality. It
means you can say no. Or if it’s an evite or a Facebook invite, you can say
maybe. Regardless, it’s an open invitation, because who doesn’t feel like the
recipient of that invite? Come to me, all you who are weary, heavy burdened,
tired, struggling hard, worn out, burned out, laboring for what does not
satisfy. Whether physically, or mentally, or emotionally, or spiritually, at
some point we all hit a time of struggle, a time of wondering if we can really
handle this, if there really is light at the end of the tunnel. When you are
there, wondering if you can make it through and how to deal and considering
other tonics, Jesus says, “Come to me. I will give you rest.”
Now,
it’s Sunday morning. Maybe you’re not feeling weary. Maybe you don’t stay up
Saturday night. Maybe you don’t have kids or pets or a bladder that wakes you
up during the night. Out of curiosity, is anyone feeling really well-rested
this morning? I’m not asking to be jealous; I’m asking so that we can be happy
with you that you’re rested! That is an occasion to celebrate! When my son was
a baby and my daughter was 2 and constantly getting ear infections, I remember
asking my sister once, “Please tell me you had a good night’s sleep last night.”
And she said, “Yes,” a little incredulously. I said, “Good. I need to know
someone is. I need to know that a good night’s sleep does exist.” It can be possible to be so weary that rest becomes
not just a passing oasis, a moving target, but a mirage in the desert. Does it
even exist anymore? Or do I need to resort to alternating between caffeine and
Benadryl, or whatever your preferred stimulant and narcotic are, in order to
function when I’m supposed to function and sleep when I’m supposed to sleep? Everyone
needs rest. Land needs rest, that’s why you let it lie fallow every seven years
or whatever interval. Even Jesus needs rest. You remember the story of when the
disciples are in their boat on the sea and there’s a big storm and Jesus walks
to them on the water and Peter tests his faith by trying to walk on the water?
Jesus walks to them on the water
because he wasn’t with them 24/7. He
had taken some time apart by himself.
Even our tablets and smart phones need
rest. They act up if you don’t turn them off every once in a while.
Resting
is a bit countercultural, because it’s time to just be, not to do.[1]
Yet we tend to fill up our time off, fill our vacation days with activity after
activity, we don’t dare rest, or take time to rest. We’re afraid stuff won’t
get done, or … we just don’t know what to do with ourselves without an
activity. Rest gets associated with being unproductive because there aren’t
always visible results, other than maybe fewer bags under your eyes or less
stress in your jaw. We’re afraid to get behind. We don’t want to miss anything.
We don’t want to be thought of as lazy and work is a socially approved
addiction. It is hard to unplug. St. Augustine tells God in his confessions
that “our hearts are restless until they find rest in you.” Jesus offers us
rest, and yet just like the invitation to come, it is up to us to accept the
gift. It’s an offer we shouldn’t
refuse, and yet so many of us do. Rest. Make time for your favorite hobby.
Spend time with your favorite people. Go to your happy place, the place that
relaxes your soul, the place where you can usually hear God. Come to Jesus, and
he will give you rest.
Yet
the story doesn’t end there. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? But noooo, Jesus
keeps going. “Take my yoke upon you.” Wait, what? A yoke? A burden? A heavy
load? Wait a minute, Jesus, you just said if we had heavy burdens we were to
come to you and now you’re going to give us another heavy burden?! I think the source of the yoke makes all the
difference. Sometimes we take on heavy loads that we were never meant to
carry. We may think we’re helping someone when all we’re doing is hurting
ourselves, and that other person. You may not be the person God has in mind to
carry that load. Sometimes we take on too much. It’s not that God gives us too
much; sometimes we give ourselves too
much. There’s a children’s story about a man whose job it is to carry one
stone up a hill. And he can do it, he can carry that stone by himself, it’s not
too heavy. But on his way, a friend asks him to carry his small pebble, too.
And then another friend finds out he’s going to the top and asks if he can take
something for him, too. And you know where this is going. The man ends up
carrying too much, the load becomes too heavy, and he cries out to God and God
asks him about his original stone. That was the only thing God had asked him to
carry up the hill. Yes, we are to help bear one another’s burdens. When you’re
sad, I’m sad, too. When you’re well-rested, I’m happy for you. But each person
is still responsible for their own load. Jesus says, “Take my yoke upon you and
learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for
your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Jesus doesn’t say
there will be no burden, no yoke. He says, take my yoke. In a couple of the
newest translations, Jesus says, “I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on
you. Put My yoke upon your shoulders—it might appear heavy at first, but it is
perfectly fitted to you.”[2]
It’s a burden you can carry.
And
you know, that’s not the end of it. Jesus also invites us to learn from him.
Walk with him. Work with him. It’s not a drop-off, here you go, bye! It’s here,
this is my yoke, now let’s walk together. It’s take up your cross, only your cross, and follow me. There is
a job God has that is specific to you. It is humble service. It is the costly
way of discipleship that Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote about. It is a life of
freedom and joy. If, instead, it’s feeling like bondage and oppression, if it’s
sucking all your joy, if it is life-draining, then it is probably not your job.
And you are probably denying someone else the opportunity to serve God in that
way. Jesus’ yoke is easy, and yet it is still a yoke. It is life-giving. It is
work, but it is not busyness. It is putting others first, and yet not at the
expense of your own health. Jesus says that with his yoke, you will find rest
for your soul. You will recover your life. You’ll learn to live freely and
lightly. It’s a promise. And we know God is faithful and keeps promises.
Come.
Rest. Take my yoke. God wants what’s best for you. God wants life for you, and
not just life but abundant life. Health and salvation. A life of discipleship.
Take time to come and rest every day, every week. The day you don’t work, take
time to discern if the burden you carry is indeed the one God has given you,
and if it’s not, let it go! That Frozen song comes in handy. It’s a little more
well-known than a tune in your hymnal that says, “Take your burden to the Lord and
leave it there.” [3]
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