Vulnerability

Ordinary Time, Day 6: Saturday, June 6, 2020

“Come to me, all whose work is hard, whose load is heavy; and I will give you relief. Bend your necks to my yoke, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble-hearted; and your souls will find relief. For my yoke is good to bear, my load is light” (Matthew 11: 28-30, NEB).

I had never noticed the context of those very familiar verses before. They are set at the very end of chapter 11, a chapter that begins with Jesus sending out his disciples to enter the towns round about them, even while he himself went to other towns to teach. Then the narrative turns to the imprisoned John the Baptist who wants to know if Jesus is the “one who is to come,” and Jesus’ answer to tell John of all of the works he has been doing—healings, cleansings, raisings from the dead, and attendings to the poor. The rest of the chapter is devoted to Jesus’ talking to the crowd, first about John the Baptist, then about the Kingdom of Heaven being done violence, then about the generation to which he was speaking and their hard-heartedness. Then he prays, thanking his Father, that the truths he has been saying have been revealed to the “simple’ of the earth (KJV uses the term “babes”) before making a cryptic statement about those who know the Son and the Father are those “to whom the Son may choose to reveal [the Father].” Finally, we come to the familiar invitation to “come.”

And to whom, then, is Jesus speaking? It must be those to whom the Son has chosen to reveal the Father, but those, then, must also be the ones that are the simple ones, the babes, to whom God has revealed truths. The invitation is one of accepting Jesus’ way—taking the yoke, bearing the burden—and, in so doing, find  “relief” or “rest” as we learn from the “gentle,” “humble-hearted” one.

Our world has such a need for this kind of learning, for this kind of spirit. And we surely have a need for the “relief” that Jesus promises. But do we have any idea at all what he means by taking his “good” yoke and bearing his “light” load? I think all of us would attest to the “hard work” and “heavy load” that we all seem to be bearing right now. And so much of the “hard” and “heavy” life is of our own making. It is we in our world who are taking the hard ways, the divisive ways, the unjust ways. And how we fear to give up our ways that to us seem right and just. How much we fear each other who are all brothers and sisters on this earth. So fearful are we who are privileged and who have more than enough. How we grasp at our wealth and our power as if it is ours. Our lives are brief and, when they come to an end, we retain no wealth and no power. Exchanging our hardness and heaviness for Jesus’ goodness and lightness is the only way to bring us the relief.

If we take Jesus’ yoke and burden, however, then it follows that we must learn to be gentle and humble-hearted. How difficult might it be to learn these actions of gentleness and humility? Some of the protesters on the streets of the US seem to have learned these actions—they stand or sit or kneel in silence, letting their very presence speak of the necessity of change in our country. Some of our police officers and military leaders have learned these actions, too. They have marched in solidarity with those who oppose force; they have spoken words of condemnation about the use of force and military might to stop peaceful protests.

To learn to be gentle and to learn to be humble, we must give up our fears, give up our defensive postures, and become vulnerable. “Vulnerable”: such a frightful word! To be willing to be wounded. To lay down any type of weapon, to give up any type of defensive tactic, to surrender any rights we may have, in order to change whatever needs to be changed, to love whoever needs to be loved, to forgive all who may have wronged us, to ask forgiveness for all the wrong we may have done—consciously or unconsciously. Let us learn the actions of humility and gentleness by becoming vulnerable and submitting to that which will bring about the “greater good.” Then, and only then, will the relief come. Then we will know rest. Then we will have peace.