11/17/57

Scripture: Matthew 11: 7-30.

Text: Matthew 11: 30; “Take my yoke upon you ... My yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

I wonder what you would think about the viewpoint of a man who, some years ago, was asked to join a church in his city. His reply was this: “I’m just too busy. I simply cannot take on another obligation now. I have almost no free time and when I have an open weekend, I feel that I owe it to myself to get away into the country.” Such an answer, given by a man who felt burdened (or so he said) -- too burdened to take on another responsibility -- though that of Christian responsibility, may set one to thinking. Before we think, further, upon some words which Jesus once said, which seem to apply to such a situation, let us think about the setting in which Jesus and his hearers lived.

Palestine is a hot, desert-like country during much of the year. Its roads were dry and dusty and weary. The sun beat down on the traveler then and now, with relentless intensity. And dust rose about man and beast along the way. Sleepy-eyed camel or patient donkey plodded along as if about to drop; and drivers of the loaded animals trudged wearily beside them. Women carried bundles or water-pots on their heads; bearded men looked old before their time. The whole day-time scene was often one of drudging weariness.

Add to this the fact that Palestine was a satellite country in the time of Jesus. His fellow countrymen were bent under a three-fold burden. Their labor was hard and unprofitable to themselves. For the meager fruits of their work were drained off in oppressive ways. The people were subject to a form of taxation which no one could resist. Dishonest Roman agents who were often traitor folk of their own number, fleeced the peasants with Roman taxes plus their own heavy cut.

Then add to this the temple tithes levied by ecclesiastical officials. Jesus’ countrymen were bowed under the burden of unprofitable labor, heavy government taxes and almost endless temple assessments. It was to hearers from this harassed people that Jesus cried out: “Come to me, all 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.”

Please note that Jesus was not getting rid of the grinding burdens. He lifted no rebellious hand to overthrow oppressive government, though he did commend to those people of influence who heard him, the virtues of mercy, compassion and fairness. He arranged with the followers in his band to pay the taxes, both civil and ecclesiastical, that were demanded of them.

At first reading, it sounds as if he just proposed to add another burden to anybody who would listen to him, come to him or follow him. “Come to me.” “Take my yoke.” My burden is not so bad; it is “light.” It sounds paradoxical. It is the sort of thing from which some will turn away -- like the man mentioned at the outset of this discussion who was just “too busy” to join a church. It sounds strange to hear that the Master of Life offers people a yoke to rest them!

We are accustomed to seeing Jesus portrayed on the cross, or in the agony of some other earlier suffering. The major emotion of many toward the Christ, is one of sympathy or pity. We should not forget that, when Jesus walked the earth, he was one to whom others came for comfort and encouragement. There was something so strong, youthful, vital about the Nazarene Teacher that young children ran to play with him; so socially winsome that folk wanted him at their weddings; something so assuredly strong that mourners and Magdalenes, poverty-stricken widows and worried young men of wealth, burdened people, grieving army officers and oppressed civilians, all came to him for assurance and help.

All of this placed a burden of responsibility upon him that amounted to a super-human task. He was constantly striving against overwhelming odds. And he bore it all with an evident vitality that caused the weary, and the anxious, and the heavy-laden to seek his secret of composure. Jesus was immensely burdened with a mysteriously easy yoke. “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

In recent years there has developed an informal fellowship of some folk who take the yoke as a symbol of their relationship to Christ and to one another. I think that it was the Quaker philosopher and teacher, Elton Trueblood, who started their custom of wearing a small gold pin fashioned in the shape of a yoke. You may have seen or had occasion to inquire about the emblem.

Now let us take a further look at the paradox of Jesus’ yoke that he says is so light. It is symbolic language, of course, based on something easily understood. Jesus had spent long years in the carpenter shop where first Joseph, and then doubtless he himself, had made yokes for the local beasts of burden. A yoke, to be strong enough to pull a load behind it, had to have the weight of wood that could bear the strain. The art of making the thing that was placed over the necks of a pair of beasts was apparently to fashion it so that it would fit well and smoothly upon their necks without undue chafing as they put their weight into the load to be pulled.

Jesus speaks of the spiritual yoke which he offers to already-burdened people as light -- perhaps even lifting. What is his yoke like? 1) First of all, what he offered was a yoke of love rather than a yoke of law. So much of the law of his time was so severe, so elaborate, and so unfeelingly enforced, that it was an undue burden even on well-meaning people. Jesus did not recommend abolition of law, but he did urge an attitude that lives beyond the minimal requirements of law.

What he meant by the rule or yoke of love rather than of law may be simply illustrated from family life. Here is a home in which there is a young son whose father has high expectations for him. The father appears constantly to measure the lad by adult standards of perfection. No matter what the little fellow does, it is never good enough, and he always falls short of his father’s pattern. If the father is continually condemning the lad for his shortcomings, the boy becomes tense and anxious; and possibly depressed with a feeling of guilt. He is weighed down, not only by the duty laid upon him, but also with the heaviness of heart that comes from feeling that he is not pleasing his father.

Contrast this with another home where there is also a young boy, and a father with high hopes for his son. But the father does not condemn the ten-year-old boy for not being as mature as a 40-year-old man. He judges the ability and the achievements of the boy on the basis of his age and attainments, making allowances for his immaturity. The father does not condone the boy’s misdeeds. And if the boy comes short of even the standards for a ten-year-old, the father explains it to him. Soon the lad discovers that his father is giving him credit when he is doing his best; and he finds his father encouraging him even though he has made some mistakes. He realizes that his father has faith in him, not only for what he has been, but for what he can become. And so the boy’s heart is lifted, and his relationship with his father is one of confidence and friendship.

Something like this is the change that Jesus worked in the relationship between his followers and their Heavenly Father. The Scribes made people feel that, no matter how many laws they tried to keep, and how many tithes they paid, they could not be sure of pleasing God. With all the sacrifices they offered, they were still burdened with a sense of guilt. Then came Jesus telling them that their Heavenly Father is like a good parent, making allowance for their immaturities; judging them by the spirit of their motives and actions, rather than by the exactitude of their many religious rules. What a load is lifted from the heart by Christ’s assurance that one is justified by his faith!

This is not to say that we are expected to stay as immature as little children in our faith and philosophy. Quite the contrary. The Christian standard of growth is breath-taking in its challenge to become more and more mature, as we are able. “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Heavenly Father is perfect.” [Matthew 5: 48]. But the yoke of Christ is such that we have encouragement, rather than condemnation, along the way of our endeavor. We may never feel fully justified by the works that we accomplish. They are never quite good enough. But the God who judges us understands us and has faith in us. In Christ’s yoke we have hope and confidence. It is a yoke of love.

2) A second reason for the lightness of Christ’s burden-bearing with us is that his yoke fits man’s deepest needs. Human nature is made for yoking. Man is a physical animal, but he is not made to run wild. He often thinks he is! Quite a few of “him” will be taking to the woods this weekend on deer-hunting expeditions. Some will drink to excess. Some will shoot illegally. Most will expect to find recreational enjoyment in the out-of-doors away from the usual demands of duty. But even here, it is interesting that so many hunters like to start out in pairs or parties -- yoked to each other in fun as well as in vocational duty. But the yoke fits quite a different need as well. Believe it or not, man has a need for the zest of responsible accomplishment. This leads some to rebellion; and some to new vision.

Sinclair Lewis rebelled against the restricting experiences of small town life. He made the leading character in his book Main Street a rebel against the dullness and ugliness of Gopher Prairie. The “small town virus” which he had in mind made the little community almost contemptible. But a few years before he wrote his book, Vassar College history professor Lucy Maynard Salmon published a monograph which she called “Main Street.” In it she said: “Main Street may not rival in beauty Unter den Linden or the Champs Elysees, but it is possible that it surpasses them in inherent interest. If beauty is undefined, even an undefinable term, may not beauty be interpreted as including interest, and thus in a very true sense may not Main Street be the most beautiful street in the world?”

Why the difference between Miss Salmon’s Main Street and that of Sinclair Lewis? Was it not that Lewis looked at the restrictions that hold people in, while Miss Salmon saw the responsibilities that call people out?

That is a basic difference between the yoke of rules and the yoke of Christ. His yoke is easy because it is a response to responsibilities rather than a restraint by rules. A person is so made that he finds zest and satisfaction in responsibility. A man or woman likes to have a job. Parents like the activity of raising little children. Old and young like the feeling of accomplishment. Human nature is made for yoking. Altruistic impulses are as deeply rooted as selfish desires. And the church works at real service to folk in appealing to them not on the basis of what they can get from God out of it, but what they can do for God.

I wish that people, outside and within the church, could be convinced that Christian faith is not a straight-jacket to restrict them with burdensome rules, but a call to play a responsible part in fashioning a better world. In responding to a call of Christ, people find zest and satisfaction in fulfilling their true nature! That is another reason why Jesus said: “Come unto me, all ye who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.”

3) Christ’s yoke is easy for a third reason. It steadies us. It may still be hard for our generation to appreciate the Biblical figure of the yoke. But some of you may have lived, at one time or another, on a farm or ranch, as I did in childhood. If so you may recognize what I remember in the time when a gay and carefree colt was judged old enough and big enough to take his place at horses’ work. When my father broke a colt to the harness, it was done by teaming the young one with an older and steadier horse. The colt would charge ahead, or lag behind; perhaps even buck or rear a little, chafing over the unaccustomed harness and bit. But the steady teammate helped the colt to learn its place and keep its course in fruitful work.

It is not unlike that with human beings. A wise parent is not satisfied alone to say “follow me” or “do as I say.” The mother yokes herself with the child so that the little one learns by doing things with the mother. A wise father assists his boys in their growth in the same way. Education, from kindergarten to graduate school, is largely accomplished in the same way. Many a Ph.D. gets that way because of the patient, inspiring, critical capable cooperation of some teachers and a professor who gives him a lot of time and self.

The Master Teacher, likewise, observed that many of us wear our nerves and our tempers ragged, impatiently chafing at our restraints, sometimes plunging ahead too fast, sometimes falling back dispiritedly or stubbornly. And he said: “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.” Christ sought to develop in his disciples an adjustment to a divine pace.

When people got excited and impatient at the delays in the kingdom’s coming, he told them the parable of the tares, or weeds, sown in a farmer’s field by his enemies. When the farmer’s servants wanted to rush to the field and pull out the weeds, he restrained them with a warning lest in rooting out the tares, they pull out all the wheat with the weeds.

The yoke of Christ is easy because it teams the wearer with one of unflustered temper and steady tempo; who takes his stride from centuries of history rather than from the isolated hour or minute; who controlled his fretting over reverses and delays in the confidence of eventual victory. It’s a great thing to be yoked with him!

One of our needs right now is persistent, persevering patience. Lest we be paralyzed by perfectionism, let us be willing to wok with imperfect instruments like the United Nations, with neighbors who may themselves be short-tempered and sometimes desperate in their urgency. We need the yoke of Christ to steady us in the long hard pull toward a peaceful world.

4) There is still a fourth reason why Christ could say, “My yoke is easy.” It lifts us. Augustine, a saint of the earlier church, once likened the yoke of Christ to the plumage of a bird -- an easy weight of feathers which enables it to soar into the sky.

One of the oddities of life is that some weights do help us to rise. Is not many a father kept from yielding lightly to some irresponsible temptation by the thought of his family responsibility? The very fact that he knows his actions and decisions may bring credit or shame to wife, children, parents, or brothers may be the weight that lifts his choice over some cheap temptation.

A fellow who, years ago, attended Princeton University told alumni later of his experience. He did none to well his first three years. And because of his irregularity and dare-deviltry, there was some question as to whether or not he would be graduated at the end of the Senior year. One day the president of the University, who at that time was Woodrow Wilson, called him in and told him that the faculty had appointed him to a position of responsibility on the campus. The weight of that responsibility saved that student’s career. Rising in response to it, he finished his college course with credit.

Jesus used this principle in straightening people up. To volatile and unsteady Simon he said: “You are Peter and on this rock I will build my church.” And Peter rose to responsibility.

Of course the lifting power of Christ’s yoke involves more than the stimulus it gives to the wearer’s own exertion. It calls into play one of life’s deep laws, namely, that the biggest and best things in life yield their highest uses to those who will surrender self to them. Music, home, love, are found most truly by those who have surrendered to them.

And so, to the man mentioned at the beginning of this sermon, who refused to join the church because he was too burdened to take on any more obligations, and to all the rest of us who, in one way or another resemble him, cannot one say what Jesus said to the burdened of his day?

“Come to me -- and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me.” Christ rests us with his yoke because it is a yoke of love, it fits our deepest needs, it steadies us, and it lifts us. It is a call of strength!

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Dates and places delivered:

Wisconsin Rapids, November 17, 1957.

Rudolph, WI, Moravian Church, November 3, 1968.

Kalahikiola Church (Wednesday), March 26, 1969.

Waioli Hiu’ia Church, April 8, 1973.