First Lutheran Church
July 9, 2023 – Pentecost 6A
Romans 7:15-20, 25a - I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. … Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!
Matthew 11:28-30“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.”
“The Yoke of Christ”
Pastor Greg Ronning
This old heart, is tired and I don’t think I can take anymore
This old heart, is lonely, down and out on the floor
This old heart, is yours now, I surrender, open the door
I don’t understand my own actions, I don’t understand the things I do
There’s a darkness that whispers in my ear
There’s a darkness that knows all my fears
This old heart, is tired and I don’t think I can take anymore
This old heart, is lonely, down and out on the floor
This old heart, is yours now, I surrender, open the door
I used to think I didn’t need anyone, I used to think I was so strong
I was gonna climb that ladder to heaven
I was gonna rise up out of my sin
This old heart, is tired and I don’t think I can take anymore
This old heart, is lonely, down and out on the floor
This old heart, is yours now, I surrender, open the door
Oh wretched one that I am, Who will rescue me from death?
“Come to me,” I hear the voice say
“Come to me, I will show you the way.”
This old heart, is tired and I don’t think I can take anymore
This old heart, is lonely, down and out on the floor
This old heart, is yours now, I surrender, open the door
“Come to me all who 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."
For those of us with tired, lonely, - old hearts, those of us who struggle with life and faith, today’s Gospel is certainly good news – “come to me,- I will show you the way.”
This wonderful promise, spoken by Jesus, found in today’s Gospel, is in many ways a direct response to all the “angst” expressed by St. Paul in today’s epistle from the book of Romans, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate;” finally concluding, “O Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?”
I don’t know about you - but today’s scripture readings resonate deeply within me. I can feel the struggle, the turmoil, the ethical and the spiritual “angst” in St. Paul’s words, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. ….” And so it is that my “tired lonely old heart” longs for rest, for peace, for a “yoke” that that is “easier” and a “burden” that is “lighter” than the burdens I seem to always be carrying around with me.
“I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” I imagine that Paul’s confession rings true for almost all of us as we struggle with everything from the simple everyday things in life, to the more complicated things, and even those things that are more “ultimate” in nature.
Theologian Bruce Epperly writes, “While we may not share Paul’s understanding of sin as a force that possesses us, warring in us contrary to our highest desires, - we recognize the reality of sin, embodied in the interplay of family of origin, genetics, environment, economics, gender and sexuality, and personal decision-making. The heaviness of the past, confirmed by thousands of habitual responses, can seem to overcome our best intentions.”
“We do not do what we want, but we do the very thing we hate.” We want to eat foods that are healthier for us, but we can’t resist the easy foods that jump out at us while we are shopping. We want to embrace a healthier lifestyle, but we can’t seem to find that thirty minutes a day for exercise. We want to spend more time with our families, but the lure of work and other self-imposed “responsibilities”entrap us. And our smart phones make it “too easy” to check just one more email or take that quick look at Facebook which inevitably leads to yet another hour of wandering deep into the digital world of the Internet. We want to stay sober or virtuous, but temptation is constant and overwhelming. We want to reach out to the poor and vulnerable, but we are afraid to give and share too much, we worry about scarcity and security.
The list goes on and on and on. We each have different lists, but we all seem to have that list of “things we do not want to do,” even things we “hate,”things that for many, and often complicated reasons, we cannot stop doing. Epperly concludes, “We are a bundle of ambivalent feelings.”
Yes, St. Paul’s words, “I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate;” are very familiar words that express the human condition. And it’s frustrating, it’s exasperating, it’s aggravating, it’s annoying; and it can become depressing, debilitating, disheartening, - a heavy burden to bear. In desperation St. Paul finally cries out, “O Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” And I know where he’s coming from, I know how he feels, I know what it’s like, because - I’ve been there, I am there, and unfortunately - I will be there again. Perhaps you know that feeling too?
Thankfully Paul’s story does not end “there,” it does not end in self-pity, it does not end in hopelessness, it does not end with a broken heart - that is unable to “dance to the flute” or passionately pursue its vocation “as if it were possessed!” No, Paul’s great “angst” is instead interrupted by a voice, a soft yet strong voice, a still small voice, a familiar voice, the voice of Christ, “Come, - come to me, - come to me and I will give you rest.” “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
“My yoke is easy.” At first glance Jesus’ promise of a “yoke” doesn’t sound attractive, it doesn’t sound like such a good deal. You see, a yoke was a device primarily used to connect two beasts of burden together for the purpose of pulling a plow or a wagon. (Not my idea of light and easy.) The yoke was a symbol of obedience and hard work. And for many it was a symbol of slavery, - perhaps you’ve heard the phrase, “the yoke of slavery.” So “no thanks” on the whole yoke thing, I already feel like a beast of burden, that doesn’t sound like “easy,” it doesn’t sound “light,” and it certainly does not sound like “freedom” from my struggles.
This idea of taking on a “yoke” is especially hard for those of us who have grown up in a society that emphasizes individuality, independence, - and the myth of the rugged individualist who is able to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.“I don’t need anyone,”“I am strong enough to do it all by myself.”
Yet, that’s what Jesus offers us. So, we need to take a closer look at the invitation. And that’s when we once again realize that Jesus is not a simplistic answer,that Jesus is not a magical answer, that Jesus is not a “personal” answer, that Jesus is not a quick fix. No, Jesus, following Jesus, practicing the faith of Jesus, - is actually quite radical and extremely counter cultural. It demands a surrender, in particular a surrender to the American myth of individualism, a surrender to selfish control, a surrender to isolation. It demands a surrender “into” community, into relationship, into dependence on others, into the body of Christ – which is the yoke of Christ. And ironically it is this kind of surrender, the willingness to be yoked in this manner, which leads us to true freedom, that peace that passes all understanding, and a place where life’s burdens are lighter. Lighter because they are shared with each other, lighter because they are shared with Christ.
The yoke of Jesus is an invitation to turn away from our fallen desire to be in isolation - and to put one’s “self” deeply into the family of God. It’s an invitation to reconnect to the body of Christ, - that expression of God powerfully manifest in this world. It’s an invitation to exchange independence for interdependence. It’s an invitation to replace fear with grace. It’s the invitation to place your “self” into a community that will in turn increase your faith, make you stronger, and allow you to more fully live out your great calling in life.
The simple truth is that our hearts just weren’t made to do the hard work of “life” - all alone. Our hearts were not made out of stone but rather a tender vulnerability that needs – that demands - a deep connection. Our hearts were not made to beat alone - but rather to beat in rhythm with others, to share the dance of life, and in doing so - to open us up to the very presence of God, which is the body of Christ. This is the “yoke” we have been invited into, the yoke that is easier, a yoke that shares life, a yoke that, once again, ironically, makes life more abundant.
Once again Theologian Bruce Epperly, sums it up well, “Healing of mind, body, or spirit, is never an individualistic enterprise. We need a beloved community of friends and family and the unmerited grace of God. Paul cries out, “Who will save me?” And, then, responds doxologically, “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” We might also add, “Thanks be to God who places us in the body of Christ and among friends and loved ones who accept and challenge us!”
So let us give thanks to God, to the God who has placed us here in this place, to the Spirit who in the waters of baptism has placed us here side by side as brothers and sisters, and to Christ who has yoked us all together. Yoked together in order that we might know love, that we might understand grace, that we might experience healing, that we might be transformed, that we might be made strong in sharing each other’s burdens, all that we might live out our own unique calling, as individuals and communities of faith. As I like to say - it’s always good to be with “faithful people doing faithful things.” It makes life a little easier, it makes the burdens lighter, and the joy more complete. Amen.