While most of our Gospel reading this morning will be found in Luke as well as in Matthew, the last three verses–the ones that evoke comfort, rest, and the lightening of burdens–are only found in Matthew. What did Matthew have in mind here? 

 In a nutshell, much of this passage speaks of wisdom–a type of wisdom apparently elusive to the so-called “wise and intelligent” formally educated elites of Temple authority and empire–but grasped by the “infants”, those at the margins who join in Jesus’ vision of the Dream of God. The “infants’” wisdom is the true wisdom that Jesus seeks. 

Then Matthew appears to digress in describing Jesus’ teaching about yokes and burdens. But when we look closer, it’s not a digression; we see that he is actually making a particular point about the wisdom of the Dream of God. 

We’re used to hearing Jesus use agricultural imagery in his teachings because this was what people in a largely agricultural society understood; Jesus spoke of farmers and seed, shepherds and sheep, threshing and harvesting. The yoke was another agricultural metaphor. Literally a yoke is a kind of harness used by animals, often oxen, to help them do work, like pulling a plow or a wagon. Often two animals are yoked together. In speaking of an easy yoke and light burden, Jesus may have been offering a comfort that his audience would easily understand; the idea that following him and doing the work of the Kingdom would be relatively undemanding and uncomplicated. 

[Pregnant pause…]

Does this sound like the Jesus of “take up your cross and follow me?”

Yes, there are times when this passage and the idea of Jesus helping us to lighten and bear our burdens is attractive–even necessary and healing. I have offered, and even taken, comfort from these words at times; “Come unto me, all ye that travail and are heavy laden and I will refresh you…” That’s why the 1928 Prayer Book actually calls them “comfortable words.” But the metaphor of the easy yoke is deeper than it seems. 

For Jesus and his audience, the image of the yoke was not a simple agricultural metaphor like that of shepherds and sheep or wheat and weeds. The yoke that Jesus spoke of was the “yoke of Torah” –the Jewish teaching that life as a person of faith was best guided by Torah observance and practice. The Rabbis understood that a yoke used for manual labor was intended to make work easier by distributing the weight being pulled in such a way that the burden was carried, not by the smaller muscles of the neck and the jaw–as with just a bit and bridle–but by large muscles better suited to a weighty task. The work could be done without a yoke but was made easier with it. And even easier still if two worked together. 

The important thing, though, about a yoke, is that it must fit well and not chafe or rub, causing sores. There’s no point in having a yoke if it is going to injure the wearer. So, the maker of the yoke needs to make sure that it is “easy” –not in the sense of being effortless–the Greek is better translated as “good” or “kind” — rather, easy in the sense of being bearable or well fit for the task. 

So, there is a two-way relationship involved with a yoke. The bearer of the yoke is trusted to do the work faithfully and effectively, and the maker and guide of the yoke is trusted to assure that it is easy or “kind”, that is, well-fitting and bearable. 

The yoke of Torah, then, is a relationship between God and God’s people–a tool that helps to accomplish the work of the healing of the world. That work could be done without Torah, but Torah makes it more manageable–makes the burden lighter than if it were attempted without it. 

Matthew wanted to emphasize that following Jesus, like a life of Torah observance, was to do the work that God called God’s people to do as co-creators of God’s Dream; bearing the weight of that work with a yoke of mutual trust between the Maker and the bearer.

What does that mean for us as Christians? For both Jews and Christians, the issue is that of living a life of faith and faithfulness. The difference is in how we articulate the image of the yoke. For the Jewish household, the yoke is Torah and Torah observance. In hearing Jesus’ call to take his yoke upon us, how does this translate for us in living a life as a follower of Christ?

I am wearing a yoke. This stole, given to me and to all who are ordained to Holy Orders, is a symbol of the yoke of Christ. It is a symbol of my vow of obedience; to God, to Scripture, and to the authorities of the Church, specifically my bishop.

A yoke. Of obedience. We don’t talk very often about obedience, although we should. Because obedience is easily misunderstood. 

When I first began the ordination process in North Carolina, I was asked by member of the Commission on Ministry how I felt about obedience. I’m not sure what he expected, but I said, “I believe in obedience, just not blind obedience.” That may have been the first speedbump on my road to ordination. But not for a second do I think I should have answered it any other way.

The most common example of how we perceive obedience is almost as a four-letter word; I must do whatever you tell me to do because you have power over me. You, in your position of power, are in control of expectations and consequences, both positive and negative. I do not question. I certainly do not refuse. 

This is an extreme example on a broad continuum, but it illustrates an underlying attitude toward the concept of obedience–that it involves a disparity in power relationships too often exploited by those with more power than others. Blind, unthinking and uncritical obedience isn’t obedience at all–it is coercion. We can see the consequences of it all around. The holders of political, economic and social yokes have no care for ease or fit, and the bearers are blistered and sore. Most dangerous is when the bearer of an ill-fitting yoke is deluded into thinking that a cruel yoke-maker is actually benevolent and that the yoke fits just fine even though the load is faltering and the wagon is running off the road.

What does this perspective mean for our theology? If this toxic view of obedience colors our view of obedience to, and our relationship with, God, how might this reflect upon our family, social and political relationships? If everyone sees others in terms of how they can be used, no matter the consequences?

There is an enormous difference between how principalities and powers view (and require) obedience, and how Jesus does.

The core of true obedience–the yoke of Jesus– lies in the wisdom born of trust, mutuality, and holy listening.

My yoke is easy and my burden is light.

The Rule for the Society of Saint John the Evangelist, an Episcopal Benedictine monastic order, speaks eloquently about obedience. Throughout the text we read of trust, mutual discernment, cooperation, and listening–to one another, to the superior authority, and to the Spirit–all of these are required to work as a community–yoked together–in order to accomplish the Society’s goals as co-creators of God’s Dream. 

This, according to the Rule, is what a life of obedience looks–and doesn’t look– like: 

Where obedience is still immature there will be passivity, complaining, resentment, reluctance to be held accountable, rigidity, and lack of candor. Where obedience is emerging from a growing freedom [which comes from willing for ourselves what God wills for us] we will recognize the fruits of the Spirit in frankness, initiative, generosity, and flexibility. 

Frankness, initiative, generosity, flexibility. I have those words on a sticky note above my desk. These are the fruits of a trusting relationship with the One who calls, but does not coerce.

My yoke is easy and my burden is light.

There is much at stake. The yoke of Jesus calls us into deep and holy listening to God, and to attending to the movement of the Spirit as She nudges us forward in our task of healing the world. We are co-creators with God and, if we choose, we are yoked to one another in the unfolding of a world yet to be, but even now in danger, travailing and heavy-laden, and crying out for our help. Obedience needn’t be a four-letter word. Let us choose to take up the yoke of Jesus and answer the call to join in his work.