Don't Let the Yoke Become a Burden (14.A)

I get annoyed when someone knocks priestly celibacy by saying an unmarried man can’t know anything much about marriage. That’s silly. A priest may not know marriage from the inside out, but he knows countless marriages from the outside in.

So even though I don’t preach often about marriage, I feel capable enough when I do.

But I’m not so sure of myself when it comes to preaching about suffering. I’ve suffered very little in my life so when I speak to others about their suffering, I tread very carefully.

A dear friend encountered great suffering this week, suffering of a kind that I’ll never face. I hope to see her in a day or two, so I was wondering what to say.

Of course, I knew enough to consider the good option of saying nothing. Sometimes there just nothing we can say to help. Just being there may be the only thing possible.

But what if she comes to Mass today or tomorrow? What would I want to say to her about the Gospel we’ve just heard?

I would want, somehow, to explain that these words of Jesus are not hollow—that they’re not meant to invite pious feelings in pious people. If they don’t contain some deep power to help and to heal, they’ll do her more harm than good.

At a time of deep pain, how can we respond to this invitation to come to Jesus with our weariness and our heavy problems?  In particular, how can his yoke lighten our burdens? That sounds like adding even more weight on our shoulders, already bearing the burden of our sorrow or distress.

Can you see the danger I see here? It wouldn’t be hard for me to make things worse for someone who is suffering, by suggesting that they need only put on the Lord’s yoke and carry on. Follow the formula, and all will be well.

If we're not careful, we can make the yoke seem like another burden. Small wonder I’m careful when I speak about suffering or to the suffering.

But despite these challenges, we can—and sometimes we must—get to the heart of what Jesus is saying here. So let’s try.

The first thing to notice is the unusual location of our Lord’s call to come to him for rest. Without any explanation or context, these words follow immediately after his passionate prayer to the Father. One minute, he is talking to God, the next he is taking to us, particularly those of us in pain or distress.

One scholar says today’s Gospel passage takes us into the soul of Jesus. We see the depth of his relationship to his Father expressed in words of gratitude. And then we are invited to the same unity with the Father through the Son.

We find rest for our souls not in the temporary relief of our pain, but in leaving it behind as we become one with Jesus in love—moving into an intimacy where our pain is his pain.

I said when I began that being there is sometimes all we can for a friend who is really suffering. When Jesus offers to ‘be there’ with us, it takes the ministry of compassion to a whole new level. Unlike any human friend, he knows exactly what we’re going through, and exactly how the Lord of heaven and earth will heal and console.

I don’t know exactly what my friend is going through, and I don’t know exactly how the Lord will heal and console her.  Maybe that’s why Jesus speaks about a yoke—clearly a two-person yoke that brings us right beside him as we plough on despite our burdens.

Maybe Jesus is just asking us to get close enough to hear him speak loving words of hope and encouragement that can bring our souls the rest they need.

The powerful image above is by Christian artist Maria Lang.  You can see her work and read her reflections here.