Pentecost 7, Proper 9, Year A

Zechariah, 9:9-12
Romans, 7:21-8:6
Matthew, 11:25-30

I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you.

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Is there a more constant, nagging feature of human existence than restlessness? Fr Ronald Rolheiser describes it:

We are born dis-eased, erotic, full of tension, relentlessly restless, full of fire. To be a human being is to be on fire for a consummation, a restfulness, a love, a symphony which, in this life, perpetually escapes us. In every cell of our bodies and in every area of our minds and hearts there is a fire, a restless ache, a burning for someone or something we have not yet experienced. . . Our lives seem always to be too small, too petty, too domestic, too unimportant. ⁽¹⁾

Human existence always has feelings of dis-ease, dis-satisfaction, disappointment. We feel under-appreciated, under-utilized. We always find fault with our circumstances. Our families and friends and responsibilities are not worthy of us, not sufficiently exciting. We greedily crave "the right experience - the right partner in love, the right job, the right city, the right friends, the right recognition." ⁽²⁾

Our culture - the "world," of course, dangles before us the attractive lie that perfect fulfillment is possible, that you can never be happy until you are restful, until all your longings, all your desires satisfied. The world warps our sense of reality, filling us with fantasies of contentment, with non-Christian ideals of where we get rest and peace. It's nonsense.

If we have any life in us, we are always going to be at least somewhat restless. That's the way it is, and that's the way it ought to be. Our longings, our aching and searching for more, is our desire for transcendence, our desire for God. Our restlessness has a spiritual origin. Indeed, it's the basis of spiritual life. It's our spiritual energy. Fr. Rolheiser quips, "the difference between animals and human beings is that animals munch grass contentedly in meadows while human beings smoke it discontentedly in bars." ⁽³⁾ Our spiritual life leads us to search for more in life.

Restlessness is unavoidable for those who have life in them. The question is where to do we direct our restlessness, toward God or toward ourselves. Do we move outside of ourselves or seek to make ourselves the center? Are we restless to do more for God or to achieve our own importance? Our restlessness spurs us to escape our ordinariness, our obscurity, our mediocrity, our insignificance, and the only true way is God.

Today's gospel is this paradox. Rest doesn't come through inactivity, but through joining with Jesus in his labors. Jesus gives us rest, but only through taking up his yoke. What is his yoke?

Today's gospel implies two yokes: the yoke, the burden of the Jewish law and the yoke, the ease of Jesus. The ancient Jews experienced God and transcended their ordinary lives through their observance of the Law of Moses. It provided identity and purpose to their lives. But Jesus strenuously objected to the way many Jews observed the law. Jesus accused the scribes and the Pharisees of "[binding] heavy burdens hard to bear, and [laying] them on men's shoulders." (Mt 23:4) In every age, people sometimes use God's law not to liberate, but to oppress other people. Serving God should lead to perfect freedom - real, existential freedom. It shouldn't be unpleasant or a heavy burden.

The Jewish law, like any moral law, can become unpleasant and a heavy burden when it's interpreted without humanity, without compassion. Jesus objected to observing the letter of the law but not its spirit. Although Jesus specifically said that he came to fulfill the law and not to destroy it, he clearly believed some parts of the law were more important than other parts. "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice, and mercy, and faith." (Mt 23:23) Tithing is not essential in itself, but only inasmuch as it helps us to be just, forgiving, trusting. We keep the little rules to help us to be just, forgiving, trusting. It's not keeping all of the little rules that matters. It's our character that matters.

We find that teaching applicable in every age, the benefit of distinguishing between what is of the essence of holiness and what is not. The question is not so much, "What would Jesus do?" The better question may be, "What did Jesus feel?" It is a question that takes us to his motivation, that is "his deep longing for the consummation of everybody and everything in one community of love and peace." ⁽⁴⁾ That's what God wants for us; that's what we work for; that's his rest.

To have rest, we take up the yoke of Jesus, the yoke of love. It's the new law: "You shall love the Lord your God with all of your heart, and all of your soul, and all of your mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, You shall love your neighbor as yourself." (Mt 22:37-39)

Every time we come to mass we take up his yoke. Later this week, I am going to S. Mary's Parish on Staten Island to celebrate the 10^th anniversary of Fr Major's priesthood and to say a few words at his anniversary mass. As I ruminate about priesthood, the centrality of the mass comes back to me again and again. The most distinctive differences between the ordained and un-ordained is that ordained Christians celebrate the mass. At our baptism, however, every person becomes part of Christ's body and so to a large extent shares in Christ's priesthood. God calls every Christian to share in Jesus' priesthood.

One of Pope John Paul's final writings was a letter to priests released on Maundy Thursday, a few days before his death. ⁽⁵⁾ Maundy Thursday, of course, is the day Jesus instituted the mass. The Pope wrote about the prayer of consecration, the canon of the mass, and he said that it had to be more than a formula of consecration, but a "formula of life." That's true not only for ordained priests, but for every Christian. The mass expresses the yoke of Jesus.

First, the mass is Christ's self-giving. Nothing expresses more powerfully the love of the cross. As Jesus gave himself for us on the cross, as Jesus gives himself to us in his body and blood, God calls everyone of us to offer ourselves as a gift, placing ourselves at the disposal of the larger community and at the service of those in need. Only in self-giving may there be unity, harmony, rest.

Second, the mass is an act of thanksgiving. John Paul wrote, "At every mass, we remember and relive the first sentiment expressed by Jesus as he broke the bread: thanksgiving." John Paul pointed out, "Gratitude is the disposition which lies at the root of the very word 'Eucharist.'" The Greek verb eucharisteo means 'to be thankful.' The mass cultivates in us "a constant sense of gratitude for the many gifts [we] have received in the course of [our lives]." If we want happiness, if we want rest, then we cultivate gratitude. Everyone of us has more to be grateful for than we can imagine or appreciate.

Third, in "repeating Christ's venerable words"at the mass we "become privileged heralds of this mystery of salvation." The mass gives us the hope and knowledge that God is with us, that God saves us, that God changes us. God's love, his life, his salvation, all of which we experience at the mass cannot help but inspire us with missionary fervor, with a desire to share God's love, his good news.

At every mass, we take up Christ's yoke, the gentle yoke of love: self-giving, thanksgiving, gospel-giving. It renews us, directing our restlessness away from the narrow, heavy burden of worrying about ourselves and toward the light, pleasant yoke of love.

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

1. Ronald Rolheiser, Forgotten Among the Lillies, Doubleday (2005), p. 24. The first four paragraphs derive from his first chapter - 'Restlessness, Spirit, and the Martyrdom of Obscurity,' pp. 1-26.

2. Rolheiser, p. 25.

3. Rolheiser, p. 25.

4. Rolheiser, p. 26.

5. Letter of the Holy Father, John Paul II, To Priests, For Maundy Thursday, 2005. The late Holy Father applied these points to ordained priests. I have applied only a few of his points to all Christians.