What Jesus Asks of Us
The passage I bring to you today is actually a command: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me” (Matt. 11:28-29a).
Only One Thing
This is actually one of the hardest things to do in the entire New Testament. Most of the time, when we think of the commands of God, we think of moral commandments: Do this, don’t do that. But all those action items are, in fact, meant to be boundaries and doors through which, out of our obedience and God’s work in our life, we begin to become the man or woman God intends us to be.
This call comes quite early in the Gospels. It is Jesus’ invitation to do nothing but to be with him and to learn from him. That’s the essence of what is being asked of us. Somebody asked me about what happened with me and to me on my 2019 sabbatical. One of the things that became crashingly clear, and I mean “clear” as in “upending my life,” was the invitation just to go and to be with Jesus. To sit with; to in fact, do nothing but to submit; to find a way to be at home in his presence; to allow my mind, which races pretty fast, to gear down.
Pay attention to what Jesus means when he says, “There is need of only one thing” (Luke 11:42a). That’s what he says to Martha when she complains, “Mary’s just hanging out, and I’m doing all the work.” Jesus says, “Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her” (Luke 11:42b).
A Difficult Path
This “better part” is a difficult path because we have the real sense that what gives meaning to our lives is usefulness. And therefore, we are a people geared toward being useful and accomplishing. And because those are the things that shape so much of how we order our calendar and what we do in our relationships, the whole idea just to come and sit with Jesus feels wrong.
We’re tempted to take an attitude like “Well, if you have time for that sort of thing. But I’ve got Martha things to do, as it were, thank you very much.” And/or you say, “Well, that’s for people who have time to be like monks, and people who don’t have a lot to do except to pray.”
Or maybe we’re a little nervous about the idea of just coming and being with Jesus because we’re afraid of what might happen to us, because we have a misshapen notion that what God is going to do if we sit with him is to somehow get after us. If we have this idea, it’s because there’s a moralism in our lives that prevents us from receiving his love and the tenderness he has for all of us. Or maybe we’re afraid of being changed by it.
You see, if I know myself relatively well, I can do a relatively good job of mastering me. But if God is going to begin to break in to do different things in my life, that mastery is going to be challenged. And well, I know how to kind of get my life in order in terms of the parameters that I have. And the last thing I want to do is have anybody come and upend that, including Jesus.
A Better Way
But amidst all of that, there really is a better way.
Yes, we will be changed. Because to be in his presence is to be changed. It is to be tenderized. It is to be loved. It is to be reshaped in a way that actually allows us to see ourselves, other people and life from a perspective, different from our own, that looks more and more like him. And that is to see people in a different kind of way, to think about our lives in a different kind of way that in the end actually begins to fuel us for a Spirit-empowered activism that we will never discover so long as we are masters of our own lives.
It is, in fact, one of the curses of our very accomplished friends and neighbors, that we can get a lot done without stepping into the presence of God and allowing that transformation and that refueling to begin. And so we think we’re doing pretty well. And unfortunately, what that means is that God has to upend us in some way or another to show us the limitations of our own very well-honed accomplishments and skills so that we realize there’s something drastically in need of change. And it is, in fact, my capacity to master myself.
And out of that, the invitation of Jesus comes because there is a hunger inside of you and me that he has placed there that cannot be satisfied by self-mastery or accomplishment. And that’s the fuel, the prevenient grace that he works in us that finally allows us to begin to say, though often with fear and trembling, “OK, Lord, I want to know something about this better way, where I’m learning to come to you and to be with you.”
Our Response
It’s not easy. His yoke is easy, but learning to discover him and what that yoke is can, in fact, feel like a tortuous journey. Because there’s so much I must learn to lay down.
But if we really want to walk in his way, to be yoked with him, he will move heaven and earth, including the great mountains and valleys in our own hearts, to draw us to himself. He will begin to work in us this very different kind of a Christian life, a life that is not bowing down to the demonic gods of personal accomplishment. Instead, this life is inviting us in a way where we begin to serve and give from his perspective, out of his power, and in a grace that both breaks our heart and allows the power of the Spirit to flow through us in a way that changes the lives of other people.
That’s the invitation of this verse. What ought we to do? Pay attention. And dare to have the courage to say, “OK, Lord, make me ready for this.”
What is your greatest challenge in practicing “the one thing”? Share this blog and your response on Twitter. Please include my username, @revgregbrewer.
(This post is an adaption of Bishop Brewer’s sermon on July 18, 2019, in the Diocesan Chapel of the Diocesan Office, Orlando).
Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.