Leaves into Coconuts

Matthew 11:28-30      Jesus said, “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."

How many of you need more rest than you are getting?  I suppose this is a ridiculous question, because since the beginning of time life has worn people out.  When the words from today’s gospel text were written, they were probably intended for a group of Jewish and Gentile Christians who had been newly dispersed to the countries surrounding Israel after Rome sacked the city of Jerusalem.  They were weary; weary from persecution, from dislocation, weary from having to start their lives over in new countries where they may not have been altogether welcome.  Even though our context is very different from that, we too are tired.  I see one of you who attends school full time while also working full time; others of you are working parents, others are exhausted from the stress of needing a job.  Although sometimes the words of the Bible can seem incomprehensible to us, these particular words are as welcome today as they were when they were written: “Come to me, all you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”  We’re in. We accept.  We love these words.

But the next thing Jesus says is confusing.  He asks us to take his yoke upon us and learn from him.  I’m not a farm person, but even I know that a yoke is one of those uncomfortable harness contraptions that you put on oxen and horses and such to get them to carry heavy burdens.  As far as I can tell, a yoke is, precisely, not restful. So what is Jesus talking about? In those days this was a term of art that was used to describe rabbis who made disciples; putting on the yoke of a rabbi meant taking his teachings upon oneself – becoming his disciple.  So this text is really about Jesus inviting people to become his disciples. Well, that’s a little bit better.  But this text is from Matthew’s Gospel—Matthew, where Jesus teaches things like “love your enemies”—not restful.  In Matthew Jesus says that not only can we not commit adultery, but that if we look at a person with lust we have committed adultery with that person already.  Good luck with that.  So the teachings of Jesus—the yoke we are being invited to take on—is not only not restful, it’s downright impossible.  So what can Jesus possibly mean? How can becoming a disciple of Jesus be a restful thing?

When I first looked at the text of today, in preparation for this sermon, I was thinking of a yoke as a harness that I put on myself and pushed against, exerting lots of effort to pull something heavy. But a yoke can be single or double.  I think Jesus is inviting us to recognize that we are not bearing heavy burdens alone: that Jesus has come alongside us and is bearing our burdens with us.  This is the beginning of a life of discipleship to Jesus: the recognition that we are not alone in our burdens, that God in Christ has come alongside us.

Let me tell you a story about when I experienced this for myself.  About ten years ago I was in training to become a spiritual director.  I didn’t really consider myself a Christian at that time, but I loved spirituality in general.  I waited tables at night and studied and took classes for spiritual direction during the day.  So one day, there was a knock at my door. A woman who I knew not very well from my social circle was standing at the door with a big photo album in her arms.  I had not invited her to my house nor had she called me to ask if she could come over.  Before I could invite her in, she entered my house, walked straight to my couch, sat down, and asked me to sit down next to her.  Then she opened this huge photo album, which was full of pictures of a person she loved who had died.  She started telling me stories about this person in the pictures, about all the events they had experienced together.  She was mourning and grieving, and she was inviting me into that experience with her.

I am ashamed to tell you that I didn’t feel much compassion for her.  What I felt in that moment was irritation.  I was irritated that she hadn’t called ahead of time to ask if today was a good day for her to process some of her loss with me.  I was angry that she didn’t seem at all aware of the passage of time.  I didn’t have the good sense to gently and respectfully set a boundary, and ask that we get together at another time. I just sat there and listened as courteously as I could, but inside, I was furious.  After six hours, she finally left.

In my spiritual direction training course, my teacher – a wonderful Jesuit priest named Matt Linn—asked me to write about someone I was angry with, and so I chose to write about this woman.  I wrote that I was so angry with her that if we were the last two people on earth, and we were stranded together on a desert island, that I would climb a coconut tree and eat coconuts indefinitely instead of hang out with her.  My teacher Matt Linn wrote a comment in the margins of my paper. He said, “I imagine Jesus up in the coconut tree with you. I imagine that he is turning leaves into coconuts so that you can stay up there longer, until you are ready to come down.”

Well, that is the last thing I expected him to say, and it was also about the most compassionate thing I have ever heard.  I felt encountered, loved, forgiven, and healed by the risen Christ, in whom I didn’t even believe.  Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that Jesus is here to enable us to remain resentful isolated selfish people.  What I am saying is that before we are worthy, before we are able to follow the way of Jesus, before we are capable of being released from being curved in ourselves and oriented to love the neighbor—it is precisely there that Jesus meets us, loves us, and bears our burdens. 

The text from today is about Jesus inviting people to become his disciples.  And so it is about the foundation of discipleship to Christ, the foundation of following the way of Jesus.  It is about the rest of recognizing that God in Christ encounters us when we are incapable of good things, and God loves us and bears our burdens in that state. The people of St. Matthews have identified eight spiritual practices that are our particular understanding of following the way of Jesus: story, prayer, simplicity, discernment, hospitality, reconciliation, generosity, and gratitude. These are beautiful practices and they are authentic ways to follow Jesus. But they are patently impossible to sustain as a way of life unless and until we are encountered by the risen Christ who bears our burdens.

I don’t know what particular yokes you have.  I don’t know what leaves you need turned into coconuts.  I do know that all of us carry burdens, that all of us need rest.  You might be dealing with the endless rounds of laundry, dinner, and diapers, or you might be dealing with the stress of trying to make your company profitable in spite of interfering investors who don’t understand your business plan. You might be struggling to find a job or struggling because you have a job that is sucking the life out of you.  You might be stuck in a toxic relationship that you can’t seem to escape, but that is exhausting and difficult.  I don’t know if you consider yourself to be a follower of the way of Jesus, or if that’s something you’re not sure about.

Regardless of what your particular yoke is, I invite you to hear the words from today’s text as if they are addressed directly to you—because I believe they are:

Come to me, all you who are weary and 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.  Amen.