A man standing in front of a lake

Exchanging Yokes

ESPERANZA LUTHERAN CHURCH https://myesperanza.org

Pentecost 6A2023
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

Typically, when I hear the word “yoke,” I think of oxen, the wooden piece laid across the shoulders of two oxen, meant to keep them together in order to accomplish farm work. But in first century Mediterranean culture as well as the 19th century here in the US, yokes were also borne by humans. In Laura Ingalls Wilder’s first book, Little House in the Big Woods, part of the Little House on the Prairie series, her family lives in northern Wisconsin. Her grandfather sets a wooden yoke on his shoulders as he goes to pick up buckets of maple syrup from the maple trees on his 40 acres. In this way, he is able to carry two large buckets of syrup, one hanging from each side of the yoke. A heavy burden, to be sure.

In today’s gospel, Jesus invites the crowd to exchange their heavy yokes for his light and easy one. The yoke of their heavy burdens includes high infant mortality, oppressive taxes, a hand to mouth existence, mystifying illness, and an honor-shame culture that forbid stepping out of line, all in the context of Roman imperialism. To these crowds, Jesus says: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, 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.”

We too carry heavy burdens. Probably not literal heavy burdens like those buckets of maple syrup. And likely not heavy burdens of military occupation or devastating poverty. But we are probably familiar with the feeling of that yoke across our shoulders, our bodies stooped under its force, weighed down by the difficulties of this day. Maybe laid across our shoulders is worries about our reputation, what other people will think or say about us. Maybe our anger or our intolerance of others—those on the other side of an issue, perhaps—are fracturing our relationships. Maybe our anxiety about our changing world is infecting our ability to live with joy. Maybe the heavy burden is simply fear, fear from which we cannot extricate ourselves. To us, Jesus says: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”

Jesus invites us to take his yoke upon us. We may quite rightly question its ease for Jesus’ yoke involves his commands. Love God. Love your neighbor as yourself. Judge not lest you be judged. Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. And many more. How can this yoke, weighed down with nearly impossible commands, be light and easy? How will we find rest in carrying this yoke? But where Jesus says: “Learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart,” I feel a lightness.

Years ago while talking with a friend, she said to me, “What I really want is to be gentle.” My friend is a follower of Jesus. She has read the Bible cover to cover many times and actively utilizes her reading to inform her daily choices. She has worked with adults with developmental disabilities, with people with severe mental illness, and right now works in a group home with kids abandoned by their families, all jobs she has loved because she gets to be with people, especially people others struggle to love. For what she really wants is to be gentle. A couple years ago, my friend was caught up in a very sticky legal situation with someone she believed loved her. Again and again, she heard in court and saw in written testimony straight up lies about her conduct. Even in the midst of tumult, my friend told me she just wanted to move on and had decided to forgive the person. For what she really wants is to be gentle. My friend has a sharp mind and the capacity to challenge questionable words that pass out of my or anyone’s mouth. She listens deeply and attentively to others and, due to her study of philosophy, sees the larger frame of almost any line of thought. But her intelligence does not make her a snob; in fact, she is eager to hear others’ views. For what she really wants is to be gentle.

My friend has put on Jesus’ yoke, a yoke gentle and humble. Jesus’ yoke is no joke. Humility that allows us to serve without defensiveness or attitude. Forgiving those who have legitimately harmed us. Openness to new ideas and opinions. Perhaps that sounds like a heavy yoke…until we put it on. Until we try it. Jesus’ gentle, humble yoke, when borne, is light and easy.

One of my seminary professors shared a story about a congregation he served where, on Maundy Thursday, the congregation had never communally stripped the altar. The stripping of the altar had always been handled by a couple of women from the altar guild. It was the way they had always done it. My seminary professor, their pastor, spoke with the council about the stripping of the altar and suggested that anyone present at the service could come up and receive an item from the altar, much like we did here at Esperanza this past Maundy Thursday. You can probably guess, he was met with staunch refusal—because it was new. But their pastor convinced them to simply try it once. Maundy Thursday arrived. He had spoken with his wife and daughter prior to the service, prepping them that they would likely be the only people to help strip the altar. As expected, towards the end of the service, my professor ceremoniously removed the first item from the altar and placed it in the hands of his wife. He turned back to the altar for the second piece and placed it in the hands of his daughter. You must understand that my professor is legally blind so has very limited vision. When he removed the third piece from the altar, the hands in which he placed it were unfamiliar to him. He then looked up and realized for the first time that the whole congregation had formed a line, awaiting their turn to help strip the altar.

The congregation tried on Jesus’ yoke, gentle and humble, in their willingness to try something they had never done before, something that turned out to be profoundly moving.

As comforting as Jesus’ words are today, we don’t get the lightness and ease without setting down our heavy burdens of anger, fear, anxiety. To put on Jesus’ yoke implies we are releasing our own, our own heavy burdens and our own broken ways of being in the world. When we stop making ourselves the ultimate authority of our lives, when we say: okay, we’ll try forgiving that person who’s wronged us, okay, we’ll try something we’ve never done before, God, because you said so, okay, we’ll try gentleness instead of being right all the time, the yoke becomes easy and light. When we pick up Jesus’ yoke, when we try it, when we live with gentleness and humility, aahh, that’s, that’s when the rest comes. Thanks be to God! Amen.