A Yoke Made Easy

This Sunday’s readings from Zechariah and Psalm 145 together offer a portrait of a gentle king rather than a warrior ruler. The prophet Zechariah wrote during a period of national rebuilding. Almost a century before, the Babylonian empire had destroyed Jerusalem and its temple and forced Israel into exile. Zechariah wrote long after this catastrophe, when some of the exiles had begun to return home. A new ruler, Cyrus of Persia, had overpowered Babylon and released all captives and granted them freedom to return to their homeland.

The Israelites who returned, however, faced an economy that was suffering due to crop failure. There was insufficient food and the people were increasingly disillusioned by new leaders as well as the prospect of a hopeful future. This Sunday’s passage from Zechariah, though probably a later addition to the prophet’s original writing, responds to this disillusionment by describing an ideal ruler arising in Jerusalem, one who will be faithful to the covenant and restore prosperity and hope. The prophetic text describes this king as a “just savior” who is “meek” (Zec 9: 9), one who will “proclaim peace to the nations” (Zec 9:10). Similarly, Psalm 145 extols a heavenly king who is “gracious and merciful, slow to anger and of great kindness” (Ps 145:8). In addition, this kingly Lord is compassionate, lifting up “all who are falling” and raising “up all who are bowed down” (Ps 145:14). Both readings pave the way to what Jesus will offer in the second half of this Sunday’s Gospel.  

This Sunday’s Gospel passage from Matthew has two parts. In the first three verses, we eavesdrop upon Jesus’ intimate prayer to his Father. These lines offer a glimpse of Jesus’ theology in which his understanding of God is expansive. He begins by praising God his Father as “Lord of heaven and earth” (Mt 11: 25). For Jesus, the Holy One he calls Father is not merely confined to the remote realm of heaven but is utterly accessible, present, among us here on earth. In addition, Jesus praises God for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom not to the learned, the wise, or the elite scholars whom society would expect or earmark as the deserving recipients. Instead, the mysteries of the kingdom are revealed to those on the ground residing among the people, “the little ones,” probably meaning the disciples, who are dealing with humanity in all its neediness, brokenness, and bewilderment. Further, Jesus affirms the deep kinship between himself and the Father, as well as the common knowledge they have of one another, making clear he can reveal the Father to anyone he wishes.     

The second half of this Sunday’s Gospel passage, which resonates with this Sunday’s readings from Zechariah and Psalm 145, turns attention to the kind of kingdom over which Jesus, on behalf of his Father, will rule. It will be a domain where all who are burdened and labored can find rest. He invites those who are struggling to take his yoke upon them. In the time of Jesus, “yoke” referred to a heavy wooden beam that tethered two work animals together, often oxen, to pull carts or agricultural implements for field work. The shared wooden frame distributed the work between them for these weighty tasks. Sometimes Jewish teachers would refer metaphorically to the Torah as a “yoke” that joined the believer to the various practices of the Law and its many and sometimes burdensome interpretations. Matthew’s Gospel follows Jesus’ offer of his yoke with two stories set on the Sabbath: his hungry disciples plucking corn and a man with a withered hand that Jesus cures. In both encounters, the Pharisees critique Jesus and his teaching. It may be that Jesus’ invitation is directed to those whose lives are burdened by excessive or even unbearable interpretations of the Law.

Jesus’s offer of his yoke, however, is also addressed to those of us today who, for whatever reason, are faced with challenging or even crushing burdens. Sudden job loss, terminally ill children, struggles with depression, devastating weather that destroys property, political strife that threatens life, the list of these overwhelming afflictions is endless. Jesus invites us to “Come.” He wants us to come with an openness, a longing, and a trust in what he can provide. He wants us to come to him and not to those who promise political security by warfare, or who promise financial wellbeing with economic predictions, or unknowingly and without compassion assure that all will be well in the face of devastating illnesses or other kinds of loss. Instead, Jesus says come to me and “learn from me” (Mt 11:29). Indeed, he is our teacher. 

In addition to Jesus’ words, his life is the most instructive content with which he teaches us. While compassion and love for others guided his life, it still culminated in a violent Crucifixion. He knows our suffering. Yet how he lived is the very embodiment of life’s blueprint that provides refreshment for our souls. Further, after his Resurrection, when Christ met his disciples, he showed them his hands and his side. If in his risen state Jesus had not continued to bear his wounds, he would have little to offer those who struggled then or who struggle now. Instead, Jesus still shares our wounds even as we share his victory over death. His yoke, to which he invites us, unites him with us in our burdens and, thus, becomes a source of comfort. He is the one we can depend upon, embracing us with meekness and humility while offering rest from what burdens us. There are no false promises, quick fixes, or pretense here; instead, the one who offers himself is the one who bears the wounds. Thus, he knows how to comfort us, offers to hold us, to be present with us, to provide peace as he shares the burden with us.