The Rev. Richard W. Budd, Ph.D., Rector
The Church of the Good Shepherd, Richmond, VA
Seventh Sunday of Pentecost, 7-3-05, Proper 9, Year A
Zechariah 9:9-12; Psalm 145:8-14; Romans 7:21-8:6; Matthew 11:25-30
Give it Up . . . Just Give it Up
After struggling for the past several weeks with the costs and consequences of becoming a disciple of Jesus— this morning a message of hope, of peace of mind, of respite in Him—we are invited to bask in glow of His presence, to hear reassuring words from our Shepherd:
"Come to me, all you 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."
Coming in the midst of so many of His hard sayings—“do not think I have come to bring peace, but a sword,” . . . “You will be dragged before courts and judges and kings for my namesake” . . . “He who does not love me more than father and mother and wife and child is not worthy to follow me”—this morning’s Gospel catches us up short.
Can this be the same man, the same Lord, the same Savior? Is it that he didn’t mean all of those other things he said—that he is now inviting us to leap-frog all of that and just go directly to the “good stuff?”
I think not. I think what we have heard this morning is what is on the other side of that hard stuff—once we have learned to forego the worldly distractions and give ourselves over fully to Jesus, then we will find this peace, this rest. As with Christ, there was a Good Friday before an Easter Sunday—one begats the other.
The power and scope of the invitation he offers this morning, is beyond our comprehension. It is so compelling, so overwhelming that it
may blind us to its real significance. These are well-loved words -- perhaps the best known of the promises of Christ. In our Rite I Eucharist
we hear them as The Comfortable Words following our confession. Many churches use them as a call to worship, and they can be found
on the lips of new and more experienced Christians alike.
I want to look at them with you today - in two parts.
The first part is the words Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
All of us here, from the youngest to the oldest, know about burdens. They come in different sizes, shapes and orders of magnitude—
but they are, for us, burdens. When Jesus spoke these words, the burden immediately at mind was the burden of the seemingly limitless
rules of the Pharisaic religion. But we cannot limit its application and meaning; he was most certainly talking about the burdens of care and
f anxiety and of labor that we are all familiar with.
And Jesus calls us-- Come unto me - all you who are tired - all you who are feeling drained -all you who are feeling empty -
all you who are burdened by a sense of disappointment and let down - all you who are exhausted by the struggles of life and weighed
down by your sense of duty and of what is right and wrong-- and I will give you rest. I will cleanse you - I will fill you with new joy - and
establish you in a relationship with God that will give you new life - here and in the world to come.
The real challenge–isn’t it—is in learning how to turn these burdens over to the Lord and to truly leave them there—and the difficulty
in doing that is what earns us those hard sayings of Jesus which we strained against.
The rich young man who deeply desired to follow Jesus couldn’t, in the end, give up those earthly things that Jesus knew separated
him from Christ. That we have failed somehow to give our weighty burdens to the Lord is reflected in sleepless nights, churning stomachs
that gnaw at us ceaselessly, anxiousness, a persistent anger at the world or a covetous envy and depression at the success of others.
Give it up . . . just give it up. Come on to me . . . and I will give you rest.
That is the first part of what Jesus had to say --of what Jesus promised.
The second part is this—take my yoke upon you and learn from me. This almost seems a contradiction -
only Jesus could promise rest from our burdens in one breath and turn around and speak of taking up another burden and another
yoke in the next . . . or so our worldly logic would dictate. After all, a burden is still a burden -- a yoke is still a yoke.
What Jesus was driving at however is that there is no such thing as a burden-free life -- life always has burdens, but what kind of
burden it is that we carry.
As a pastor, I have in my life spent a lot of my time providing comfort to those who lives are overwhelmed with constant activity -
and conflict - providing counsel to those who are weighed down heavily by the burden of dealing with the hassles of others –
the activities of others - hassles and activities with their children - their in-laws - their parents - their spouses - their bosses –
and their own selves.
One thing I have learned in all this, is that life's greatest burden is not having too much to do, nor having too much to care about --
some of the happiest folk I know are the busiest and care the most. Rather the greatest burden we have is our constant engagement
with the trivial and the unimportant - with the temporary and the passing - -with those things that are ultimately unpredictable and beyond
our ability to control.
So the issue in life, then, is not if we shall be burdened - but with what shall we be burdened--it is not if we shall be yoked -
but to what and with whom we shall be yoked.
In Jesus time, a yoke was put on the necks of two oxen so that together they could pull the plough as one. It always takes a pair to
work a yoke. When Jesus invites us to take his yoke and to learn from him, he is inviting us to join him in harness -- to allow him to
take the lead -- to let him help us through difficult places -- to let him show us how it is done. The yoke of Christ is not just a yoke
from Christ but also a yoke with him, to identify ourselves with him: our destiny with his destiny, our vision with his vision and our
mission with his mission. It is to know that we are not pulling the yoke alone and by our own power, but together with Christ and
by the strength that comes from him.
Jesus has no interest in unburdening us so that we can be free or liberated or self-esteemed or self-actualized or any of those other
contemporary infatuations which are themselves debilitating burdens. Jesus is interested in lifting the burdens off our backs that drain us,
that suck the life out of us, so that he can replace them with another that is better suited to us.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me.
He is interested in removing the harness that we forge for ourselves, or the world forges for us with its constant demands and pressures,
so that he can place around our necks his own yoke - his own harness – the yoke, the harness, the burden - that brings to us new life,
new energy, new joy to us – and—even more importantly-- to others through us.
Jesus’ promise to us is not that we will find unfettered freedom, but that he will refresh our souls when we come into his presence --
and that when we venture forth - with him - into the world again, that he will replace the burdens that destroy and exhaust us, with a
burden, and a yoke, that will be life affirming and easier to carry.
His promise is that when we come unto him, when we learn from him, and offer ourselves fully to him, that he will minister to us
and through us – that he will give strength and hope and joy and peace, and patience and love, that he will give us new life -
here and now and in the world to come. Amen