
“But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,
‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;
we wailed, and you did not mourn.’
“For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds….”
At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will.All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.
“Come to me, all you who 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.” (New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition)
Exchanging one yoke for another is really a rather radical act. It is akin to dying to self, so that there can be new life in Christ.
In our anxiety-laden society, filled with multiple fears, worries, and frustrations, we are being invited by Jesus to lay it all down. In other words, every one of us must unequivocably die to self.
Perhaps this might best be illustrated by expressing my own struggle with the pharisaical yoke and the Jesus yoke:
A year-and-a-half ago, I abruptly had to leave my job as a hospital chaplain due to deteriorating health. I am now retired, not because I chose retirement, but because retirement chose me.
So, for the past eighteen months, I have struggled with this reality of no longer being a Chaplain. As hard as I thought and pondered, I’ve gained no understanding as to why I am no longer serving patients, their families, and hospital staff.
What’s more, I have no insight as to why – during my tenure as Chaplain – I experienced an awful time with a gaslighting boss for three of those years. This boss continually made nonsensical decisions, and defied any understanding, even though I sought it out. (I might add that it is super-creepy that the current U.S. President is so eerily like the former boss, as if I’m still under the abuse!).
If I was a good Chaplain doing good work (which I believe I was) then why was I treated so oppressively? Why did my employer turn a blind-eye to it all? Why would God almighty sideline me in such a loathsome health situation. Why must I keep experiencing the awful effects of incompetent political leadership? Why all of the nonsense? It is a terrible yoke for me to carry.
Likely, none of this has to do with me needing to understand any of it. It could be that it is more akin to Abraham being told to sacrifice the son of the promise, Isaac.
It was a completely nonsensical command from God. It defied any sort of understanding on Abraham’s part. And yet he quietly obeyed, with the text of Genesis 22 telling us nothing about any talk-back nor questioning from Abraham. Only obedience. It appears that Abraham was able to exchange yokes, from the oppressive one to the easy one.
In telling Abraham to sacrifice his son, the real death taking place was Abraham’s, not Isaac’s. Abraham was to die to anything that may compete or be likened to some sort of idolatry before God. For even the very good things, like families and jobs, can become idolatrous to us.
I don’t know about your situation, but maybe for me the point is that I must allow the old life to die, and to let a new life grow out of it. Maybe it’s time for a change of yokes. After all, one cannot have a new resurrected life without first experiencing a crucifying death to the old life.
Death is an integral part of life. To exchange yokes is to experience a death. I’ve wanted badly to return to chaplaincy in the hospital. But I am being commanded to sacrifice it on the altar of God. I am being told to die to myself, so that I may live a new life to God.
Any sort of mere earthly hope must die within us, that an unselfish and godly hope may arise anew. And that happens when we deliberately switch-out one yoke for another.
Chaplain Tim, in a way, is dead. I now accept that which is already true of me. It is a death to self. And I am now patiently awaiting my resurrection.
I do not understand this weird liminal space I’m inhabiting; and I need not understand it. I’m deprived of the object of my former job. And so, I let go of it. I will cling no longer to the old life.
What I seem to be currently experiencing is a severe mercy – the mercy from God to not make Christianity wholly understandable, nor boil it down to pharisaical laws of which I can clearly either follow, or not.
Instead, I allow following Christ and taking up his easy yoke to maintain it’s true mystery and grace. If I have died with Christ, I shall also live with him.
Only in hopelessness can we entertain hope. God loves me enough to let me feel the awful severity of Divine nonsense, so that I may experience the real nature of Christ.
I suppose, then, that I am really dead to having to understand everything, and am instead alive to hope. And hope will not disappoint me.
Through dreams and visions, O God, you broaden the horizon and hope of your people, so that they may discover the meaning of your covenant, even in the midst of trial and exile. Increase the number of those who believe in your word so that all people may joyfully respond to your call and share in your promises. Amen.




