Listen and Watch Sermon
Pastor Tom Johnson, July 5, 2020
Jesus’ message is for the weary. He is speaking to those whose backs are weighed down with the many worries, troubles, and distress of this world. Just a few chapters earlier in Matthew, Jesus has compassion on the crowds because they are harassed and helpless like sheep without a shepherd (9:36). Jesus offers himself as the antidote. He says, “Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens.” This message is not for those who are self-sufficient. Jesus does not speak to those who are going through life fueled by their own strength. It is for the weary—of body, mind, and spirit.
How many of us are not sick and tired of sheltering in place and maintaining our distancing and isolation these months? Where are those who are not fed up with all the political rhetoric, arguing, polemics, and increasing animosity? Is there a person who is not fatigued by the news of another person—another child—shot dead in the streets—or sleeping or watching television in their homes? Who among us is not exhausted by our seemingly fruitless attempts to get through these difficult days? This is the message for the faint of heart and squeamish among us. I am weary by all the division we see in our society, the violence, isolation, fear, pandemic, economic decline, dependence on technology, and struggle to keep up with technology. I don’t have the strength to watch another heartbreaking video. Maybe some of us carry heavy burdens deep within our minds, our souls, and our past. We might be afraid to unload these burdens because we have never found a place or a person where we have felt safe. That is too much for us to hold. Jesus is that safe place for us to unload all our embarrassment, our guilt, and our shame.
Jesus speaks to us who know ourselves as vulnerable and weak—as unable, by our own reason or strength, to come to him. These are words for us who search through the archives of our own souls and only find despair and hopelessness. Jesus breaks out and thankfulness and praise: “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants: yes, father, for such was your gracious well.” This is is the wisdom of Christ—to discover God’s mountain of strength through the dark valley of our inability and poverty of soul and spirit.
When Solomon becomes king of Israel, he confesses to God, “You have made me king although I am but a little child. I do not know how to go out or to come in.” In Solomon’s bold and vulnerable confession God gives him unparalelled wisdom. Oh that we as a nation and as God’s people would live up to lady liberty’s welcome to the nations which may be plagiarizing but is certainly echoing Jesus’ invitation:
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
“Come to me all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens.”
If we all come together in our weakness and poverty of spirit—if we all come to Jesus, we unite around the common good and against a common enemy. Our weariness becomes a gift. Our weakness is a teachable moment—to lead us to him who is stronger than we. We have the highest call of all—to come under the yoke of the King of kings and Lord of Lords, Jesus, at whose name every knee will bow and confess! Jesus says his yoke is easy; his burden is light; we will find rest for our souls. Jesus was the son of a carpenter. I imagine Jesus learning to move great and heavy beams of lumber. I see his stepfather Joseph playfully teaching his adopted son to take the yoke upon him. I see Joseph with his broad and strong shoulders arms and legs doing all the work. I see the child Jesus come underneath the yoke, locking arms with him. They do the work together by the strength of the father. So we are, as we come to Jesus as his little children. Jesus’ yoke means we do it by his strength not ours.
I vividly remember my father playing “marionette” with me when I was learning to walk. It is one of my earliest memories. He took each of my hands in his. He put my toddler feet on top of his. I walked by his strength—by his balance. It brought laughter and joy to both child and parent. So it brings joy to Jesus—so it will bring joy to us when we come to Jesus—when we accept his gracious invitation—journey forward by his might. We will find rest for our souls. He has made his promise: his yoke is easy; his burden is light.
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
“Come unto me and rest;
Lay down, O weary one,
Lay down your head upon my breast.”
I came to Jesus as I was,
So weary, worn, and sad;
I found in him a resting place,
And he has made me glad.
“I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say” (LSB 699, v. 1)
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