“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”
These words from Jesus, as we find in Matthew’s Gospel today (MT 11: 28-30), have consoled me and many others in times of confusion, loneliness, grief, and depression. The invitation to consolation is heart-warming and comforting, especially in the midst of experiences of pain and suffering.
The violence of the last two weeks in this country has deeply disturbed all of us. We have been shaken to the very core of our beings regarding the senseless harm and death that we inflict upon one another. I know I shudder at the recognition of my own image in this mirror of calamity. I want healing for all those who have been hurt in this – and it is indeed everyone who has been hurt, who is hurting in all of this. I seek consolation, resolution, the “fix,” the answer, something that will move us forward in a healing and merciful way that does not dismiss anything that has been done, but creates a truly NEW context or environment wherein we can begin to REALLY see each other, to REALLY hear each other, and really LOVE each other. I pretend no knowledge in the way to do this. So I attempt to listen with my heart and act in ways that create space and make room for me and others – US – to truly live together.
As Jesus is acknowledging in today’s Gospel, when we are burdened, we do seek rest quite naturally. I find, though, that many times I miss perhaps the more important aspect of this beautiful and challenging Gospel – the yoke! A yoke is a cross bar that is attached to two animals, joining them together for the purpose of pulling something, e.g., a plow. The structure is designed so that the animals must work together to accomplish the task of pulling the plow, or “carrying” the burden. It is seemingly a constraining apparatus.
So is this what Jesus is inviting us to do in order to find “rest” – take his yoke upon our shoulders to learn from him? I find it important to realize in this image that we are “yoked” to Jesus, joined to Him in the project or task of carrying the burden that we absolutely cannot carry on our own. But what is it that we need to learn by doing this, and how can this grant rest? Jesus tells us “I am meek and humble of heart and you will find rest for yourselves.” On face value, this seems odd to think that we could find “rest” by helping or assisting another in the carrying of a burden. But it seems clear that this is what Jesus is saying here.
So, we have the paradoxical image of finding rest from our burdens by being yoked or joined to another who apparently also has burdens, and actually in this image, the very same burden! And the attitude that Jesus hopes to teach us in this, according to Matthew’s Gospel, involves meekness and humility.
Quite naturally, given what we see or experience ourselves in the world, this sounds like almost a justification for enslavement and oppressive force into a project that deprives us of freedom. We know and see up to this day the horrific repercussions that occur when we carry out actions that seek to enslave, oppress, deprive, exclude and indeed kill others. I am not convinced that this scripture is intended for that interpretation.
In my heart’s image of this story, I see a plow that is attached to a wooden yoke placed on the shoulders of Jesus and me. We begin to pull the plow forward. The upturned soil, rich in nutrients, flows in waves behind the plow as we continue forward together. There is comfort in knowing that I am not pulling this plow by myself. This comfort is founded in the knowledge that I indeed cannot pull it forward by myself and that there is Jesus beside me helping me to do this. I am aware of the closeness and how this relationship is helping me move forward. I glance back over my shoulder to see the fresh earth being broken open by the force of our movement of the plow. I am pleased and content.
Then I glance over at Jesus next to me in the yoke, and am startled to find that it is not Jesus next to me at all, but someone I don’t recognize – somebody else. Has Jesus slipped out of the yoke and someone replaced him? I am somewhat afraid and then become indignant. Who is this person next to me? I don’t know this person. I stop dead in my tracks, the other side of the yoke with this stranger swings forward, the plow goes off track and comes to a halt. I struggle to be free of the yoke, but I cannot break free. Where is Jesus? I cannot move – I become paralyzed with fear and confusion. I don’t know what to do. After a while, I calm down a bit, and chance looking at the person next to me. They appear frightened too. We stand in the yoke together. The plow is still in the earth.
What is the real burden we carry? Can it be easier when it is shared? How do we do that? Can sharing the burden translate into plowing a field together in preparation for planting seeds for a great crop? Isaiah (IS 26: 7-9, 12, 16-19) beautifully describes it in this way…
As a woman about to give birth writhes and cries out in her pains, so were we in your presence, O LORD. We conceived and writhed in pain, giving birth to wind; Salvation we have not achieved for the earth, the inhabitants of the world cannot bring it forth. But your dead shall live, their corpses shall rise; awake and sing, you who lie in the dust. For your dew is a dew of light, and the land of shades gives birth
Today marks the memorial of St. Kateri Tekakwitha, a young Mohawk woman from the 17th century who lived during a time of great upheaval, oppression, and violence in North America. Set within the chaotic context of North American tribal conflicts, the North American wilderness, and European aggression and oppression (political and religious), this young woman suffered greatly, and yet was open to being transformed into a strong mystical presence that transformed the lives of others. This was a “newness” that came about through strength in humility and meekness.
It is an uncomfortable prospect….this Newness. But it has already started, wherever “meekness” or what I call the strength of openness and inclusion is happening. It is already taking place when we conduct ourselves with “humility” by authentically listening with the heart.
The plow is in the earth. Let us continue…please!
Peace
Thomas