spirit of the heartland

Spirit of theHeartland

A Sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
Johanna Morrigan

Psalm 145
Zechariah 9:9-12
Romans 7:21-8:6
Matthew 11:25-30

"Come"

"Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give ye rest." I cannot say that verse without going back to the King James version of my childhood. To say it any other way just - never seems right.

"Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give ye rest." For me that is one of the most compelling verses in all of scripture.

Jesus, at his tenderest – at his most loving, inviting all of us who are tired and discouraged and burdened - inviting us to just let go and come to him - and through him to come to the loving arms of God. A God who wants nothing more than to be allowed to show us how much we are loved. How different life would be if we just walked with God, in the warmth of God's love - instead of usually insisting that we know the way better than God does.

There's a wonderful old legend about the quiet years of Jesus - the years before he began his public ministry. The legend claims that Jesus the carpenter was one of the master yoke-makers in the Nazareth area. People came from miles around for a yoke, hand carved and carefully crafted by Jesus, the son of Joseph.

We might imagine a customer arriving with his team of oxen. The man waits patiently under an olive tree until the carpenter is finished with his task. Then Jesus approaches the animals slowly and gently - so as not to startle them. He whispers softly as he measures them - their height, their width, the space between them, the size of their shoulders. He works very slowly and carefully - taking his time - until he is satisfied that he knows the animals well - knows where their strengths are - and where they might be vulnerable to pressure or too much weight. Jesus tells the man to return with his oxen in a week's time.

When the man returns, Jesus again approaches the oxen slowly and quietly. They have learned in such a short time to trust this gentle man. So they allow him to place the new yoke over their shoulders. He checks carefully for any roughness that might chafe or rub. Removing the yoke, he smooths out the edges. Again he takes his time. It's essential that the yoke fit perfectly if this team is to be able to do its work well. And so when he is done, the yoke is an exact fit for this particular team of oxen.

Jesus invites us to come to him to find rest. But it seems a rather odd notion of rest - doesn't it? He wants us to wear a yoke on our shoulders. Oh, he assures us that his yoke is easy. Yet somehow, the idea of wearing a yoke doesn't sound all that easy to me. But if we look at the Greek word for "easy", we find that it can also mean "well-fitting."

When I think about something that fits well - I think of things like well-oiled gears or a tailor-made suit. I think about harmonies that blend so delicately when a small group sings Hildegard Von Bingen's Canticles of Ecstasy. I think about the intricate balance of life on this planet earth - where everything is created to fit in a particular place, in a particular way. I think about how God made each one of us, knitting us in our mothers' wombs...making us to God's exact specifications.

And I think about being a child trying so valiantly to fit in. Most of us grow up trying so hard to fit in - trying to do things well - trying to be successful - trying to make others proud of us - trying to find the good life where ease and comfort are accompanied by peace and tranquility. Our society has spent billions of dollars trying to find that good life - each year we are offered bigger and better things guaranteed to make our lives easier - electronic answering machines, meals in a box, improved cell phones, and lap tops. We're invited to go on longer and more exotic vacations.. Medical research tells us yet another thing we can do to lengthen our life span. and on and on - and on it goes....

And each year we become more and more tangled up in our efforts to keep up with it all. The burden becomes heavier and heavier, and the harmony that we ache for becomes more and more elusive.

And Jesus says, "Come unto me..."

It's as though he's saying,

"Stop trying to find the way by yourself.
Stop stumbling around in the darkness, getting lost and frightened.
Come - and discover the person that God created you to be.
Come - and walk on the path that's been waiting for you all along.
Come - and take this yoke that I've made for you.
Come - and see how I've fashioned it so carefully so that it will neither chafe nor rub.

Come - and share this yoke with me - for I tire of carrying it alone."

AMEN


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