Proper 9: The YOKE

 

Proper 9 

The Sunday closest to July 6

O God, you have taught us to keep all your commandments by loving you and our neighbor: Grant us the grace of your Holy Spirit, that we may be devoted to you with our whole heart, and united to one another with pure affection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the
Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Preface of the Lord's Day

Give ear O heavens and I will speak; let the earth hear the words of my mouth, 

for I will proclaim the Name of the Lord, and ascribe greatness to our God.

What is the Good News for us today? What is the Gospel? What do we want to hear, and what does God want us to hear?

I ask, because what we want to hear and what we NEED to hear are sometimes two different things.

Jesus points that out to us in the Gospel reading for today. 

Jesus is comparing and contrasting the ministries of John the Baptist and himself in Chapter 11 (of Matthew’s Gospel). 

John is in prison and has sent his disciples to Jesus to ask him, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?”

Jesus responds in code, because when times are dangerous, people talk in code.

Like in the days of the catacombs, Christians would have to sometimes meet in secret. They would mark the trail with a little fish symbol (called an Ichthus – Greek for fish). 

It was Christian graffiti and it pointed folks to a safe place. The fish symbol referred people to that big miracle where Jesus fed the 5,000 with a few loaves and fishes. The word ICHTHUS was also handy in that it was an acrostic made up of the letters: Iesus Christos Theou Huios Soter (Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior).

So when John’s disciples visit Jesus, they ask him if he’s the Messiah or if they should look for another, and Jesus responds by pointing them to Isaiah (35:5-6): 

“Go and tell John what you hear and see: 

the blind receive their sight,

The lame walk, 

Those with skin disease are made clean,

The deaf hear,

The dead are raised,

And the poor have good news brought to them.

Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.”

Do you see what’s missing?

Sometimes it’s what you don’t see: that’s the message.

Jesus leaves out a key line: “Release to the captives.”

What John wants to know – one of the reasons, if not the main reason – John sends his disciples to Jesus is to ask his cousin, “Are you going to set me free?” 

That’s in the Messiah Job Description, and Jesus says, 

“No offense, but no.”

When John’s disciples leave, Jesus wants to make it clear that he’s not abandoning John because of anything John has done or failed to do.

“Of all the prophets throughout the history of our people, there have been none greater than John the Baptist. But from his heyday until now, understand this: the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force. Torah and Prophets have guided you until now, but if you’re willing to listen carefully,  he (John) is Elijah who was to come.” (11:7-15 paraphrased).

There’s that coded language. Elijah, who ascended into heaven in that fiery chariot, was expected to return and say, “Here! Here he is! Here’s the Messiah! Here’s the Savior. Him! Him! Look, look, look!!!”

So Jesus looks at the crowd and says, “Let those with ears, listen and hear what I’m saying.” Wink. wink.

So that’s our context. That’s where the Gospel reading for today picks up. Jesus has been comparing his ministry with his cousin’s ministry and all that entails and he says, 

“You know, the problem with this generation, the problem with you folks is you’re never satisfied. You’re like little children down in the town square teasing one another: ‘We played the flute for you, but you didn’t dance.’ 

“‘Oh yeah, well we cried, and you didn’t mourn.’

“You know,” Jesus continues, “John was an ascetic. His diet consisted of honey-roasted locusts and water, and you thought he was insane, so you ignored all his talk of hell-fire and damnation and your need to stop the violence. The Son of Man comes talking about a kingdom of diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (or at least that’s how he might put it today), and yet you think he’s a drunken low-life!

“Let me answer this way: Wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”

In other words, it’s not what you think that matters. It’s what you see happening. People are seeing God at work in their midst. John says, “Change, for God loves you too much to leave you the way you are; so change, for heaven’s sake.” 

Jesus says, “Come, for God loves you too much to leave you where you are; so come, for heaven’s sake.”

That’s the good news. God believes we can change. God wants us to come close. But how do we do that? That’s the question we wrestle with today.

Saint Paul understands what we’re up against.

He shares some of his own life story. He complains he does things he knows he shouldn’t and fails to do things he knows he should. He knows it, and he says there is something all twisted up inside that makes him that way. He calls it SIN, an umbrella term for everything that alienates us from God, our neighbor, and our very own selves.

He’s talking about that twisted little something inside that tells us that little things don’t matter, or that other people think a certain way and act like that too; if it’s OK for them, it’s OK for us. 

But Capital S SIN isn’t that little devil on one shoulder debating with the little angel sitting on the other shoulder. 

It’s just the capacity to know what we should do, and not doing it. Or knowing what we shouldn’t do, and doing it anyway because, frankly, that’s what we really want to do. It’s that thing inside that says, “There is a God, and I am he or she!”

Paul says, “I know these impulses are at war within me, and I know that I am a prisoner of war. I know it is a war I cannot win, because I haven’t got it within me to fight and win. I’ve got a traitor in my ranks. I am my own worst enemy. But thank God, I do have a way out under the fence and beyond the concertina wire. Jesus is my tunnel. Jesus is my shovel and my wire-cutters.”

This takes us back to the Gospel. How is Jesus our tunnel, our escape hatch, our shovel, our wire-cutters?

“Come unto me all you who travail and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you.”

Do you remember that? That was the first of the Comfortable Words that followed the confession and led up to the Offertory before Communion back in the olden days. It was taken from today’s passage:

Hear the Word of God to all who truly turn to him.

Come unto me, all you who travail and are heavy laden, and
I will refresh you.    Matthew 11:28

God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son,
to the end that all that believe in him should not perish, but
have everlasting life.    John 3:16

This is a true saying, and worthy of [all] men to be received,
that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.
1 Timothy 1:15

If any man [one] sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus
Christ the righteous; and he is the perfect offering for our
sins, and not for ours only, but for the sins of the whole
world.    1 John 2:1-2

They’re called comfortable words, not because they’re easy-chair comfortable. The word “comfort” means “easy” today, but the prayer-book understanding of the word means “with strength” – com (with) forte (stronghold). 

It’s like the scene in The Lord of the Rings when the people flee the invaders and fall back into Helm’s Deep. Things look grim, but the high solid walls of Helm’s Deep have never failed to protect them. 

Many times in life we feel we are being overwhelmed by the world around us. The political landscape is a nightmare. The economy and the national debt threatens to crush us. Threats to Social Security and healthcare are taking a beating. Alliances that have kept the world safe for 75 years are coming unglued. 

Life at home has its own challenges. We’re getting older. The things we used to do without a second thought are becoming more and more of a challenge, but we carry on. We keep on keeping on as hippies of yore used to say.

All will be well, says the Lord.

The other day I stepped out of the car when I went to Haggens to pick up some groceries and I looked down and saw a penny lying there on the ground. A penney. They’re so worthless the government has stopped making them. I’m 75. My back and knees are shot. I confess I used to always genuflect fully when approaching the Altar before Mass. 

It was a way of bringing my body into line with the spirit, reminding me I am here to worship; I’m here to serve.

Well, I don’t genuflect any more, but I DID bend down and pick up that penney. And I thought, I’ll bend down for a Lincoln copper, but not for God and worship. That’s sad.

So, I brought that coin and tossed it into the plate this morning when I got here. I may not be able to genuflect without falling over, but I’ll do what I can do, because that’s all God asks of me and of us. 

“Ceremony is important,” says God, “but do what you can, and leave the rest to ME.”

Jesus says, “Come. I know you’re anxious, tired, loaded down with the cares of the world. Come here; you’ll find a place of rest, peace, shalom, and comfort.”

We aren’t farmers. Most of us don’t have teams of oxen to plow our fields. But Jesus was a master carpenter, and he knew a thing or two about crafting yokes to help distribute the power of the oxen.

Jesus says, “Come here. Stand by my side. Walk with me. Pull with me. Work with me. You’ll learn the going will be easier, and gentler, and kinder, and the work will be done with more joy, because we’ll be pulling together.”

Jesus says we don’t have to carry our burdens alone. Not the burdens of our past. Not the burdens of the future. Just take care of what’s in front of us today, and leave the rest to God, and God will provide the rest we need.

God cries with us. God dances with us. God delights in us.

We may think the yoke’s on us, but really, the yoke’s on God.

Amen.

Delivered by the Rev. Keith Axberg to the congregation of Christ Church (Anacortes, WA) July 5, 2026