“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.” (Matthew 11:28-30)
Ever since I was a young child, this popular Gospel verse has baffled me. I learned in grade school what a yoke was — that wooden beam that allowed a team of oxen to pull a heavy load on a cart. How was it possible, then, that Jesus, using this same metaphor, could have a light and easy burden?
All of us have gone
through periods of our lives when we are heavily laden with burdens and
understand that “all you who labor” includes not just our daily work schedule,
but the interior labors of hardship and difficulties we also carry. It’s why
this verse is so beloved and a comfort to many during their struggles.
As obvious as the meaning
behind finding rest in Jesus may be for some, I never got the part about a
burden being light or a yoke being easy. Yes, God is God, which means He is
all-powerful and can do anything. But why use that image to say a heavy load is
not actually heavy at all?
Recently, I’ve gone
through another very dark spell that has affected every facet of my life:
spiritual, emotional, mental, physical. My burden has been beyond heavy, my
onus unbearable and suffocating at times. I have found no rest or solace – not
in prayer, not in the desperate lamentations I sigh heavenward, not in Scripture
or conversations with friends or hymns or Mass. Nothing.
Then, I went to
Confession. It is a constant on our family’s monthly schedule, but I’d gone
about six weeks before dragging my weary body to church in the early evening
hours. I was more than ready to give Jesus my burdens and lay them down at His
feet.
Our Labors and Burdens
What are those labors and
burdens referenced in these verses? The footnotes in the New American Bible
state that they are about the scribes and Pharisees, who were burdened by the
law. Could it be that some of our rigid religiosity actually binds us, rather
than frees us to natural conversation and meditation with God?
Sometimes our burdens are
self-imposed. Sin does this to a soul, and it afflicts the mind and body, too. Looking
at the totality of our lives, when one aspect is out of sync, the rest will
suffer alongside it. We can’t escape the truth that living an authentic
Christian life means that we will struggle with the burden of our tailor-made
crosses. They will be heavy, and at times, we will be crushed under their
weight. When it seems that God has, indeed, given us more than we can handle,
we beg Him to send us a comrade that will make it more bearable.
Finding Rest
Most people I’ve met have
shared that they long for more rest in their lives. The word they often choose
is peace. I think what modern-day Catholics are desperate for is a pace that is
slower, a way to maintain the spiritual serenity gifted by the grace of God. We
need to be refreshed. Because of our finite nature, we must take regular
periods of restorative sleep to revitalize not only a weary body but a stricken
soul, too.
In these verses, Jesus
wants us to find rest by acquiescing to His will by way of holy obedience. It
is when we are constantly fighting against Him, unrelenting and without any
resolution, that we wear ourselves out. While it can be healthy to wrestle with
God in times of uncertainty and in the aftermath of loss, we can’t stay in a
state of constant resistance to His will. Obedience may just mean surrendering
to the mysteries we all face. That is where true rest begins.
Jesus Lightens the Load
I was brutally honest in
my most recent Confession. I told the priest I was angry with God, that I felt
in some ways I was losing my faith. I had taken a huge risk in this openness,
because I have had confessions in which the priest interrupts me or constantly
reprimands me. It can be shaming. I knew that was a possibility this time, but
my desperation and inner pain were bursting to be acknowledged.
I could not hide from
myself, and especially not from God.
Thankfully, the priest was
a true reflection of Christ in his gentle demeanor, his nonjudgmental
responses, his kind and tender tone of voice. My penance was to pray for
strength, which I did immediately. I let the tears cascade down my face as I
openly sobbed in front of a handful of strangers.
The sense of finding rest
or having my load lighter didn’t happen that day. But when I awoke the next
morning and began my daily routine, I noticed my heart did not feel as crushed.
I wasn’t constantly sighing. I could see life through the lens of gratitude, and
God’s peace was awash in my soul.
As I prayed while the sun
peeked through the silver maples in our backyard, I instantly thought of this
verse and realized that Confession lightens the load. When we come to Jesus
with the humility that honesty demands, He does not hold back from us. He
grants us the reprieve we need, even if it is just barely enough to give us
strength to carry on for one more day.
Sometimes that is all we
need.
