Make a New Normal

When we can’t carry it anymore

a photo a man, holding his glasses while rubbing his eyes.
a photo a man, holding his glasses while rubbing his eyes.
Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash

We shouldn’t be super surprised when Jesus calls people out. Even in a case like the one we get this week (Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30) when he seems to call out everyone. At least everyone alive right then. Which is a whole other thing.

So what is the frustration about? Not the particulars. And also not “sin”. These ways we whittle it down to the most specific concept possible. Or the most vague concept possible. These give us the widest latitude to do whatever it is we want. Or what we’re already doing.

Jesus is frustrated because he feels used. That they expect him to serve them. Perform for them.

He’s frustrated at the way they dismiss John. And find ways to pretend they have no part to play.

Halfway through this gospel, and I’m already feeling like we’re being called out for the way we read this passage!

There are two other messages.

The first is a prayer of thanks…for hiding the truth from a lot of people.

And then we have an invitation for people to lay their burdens on Jesus.

What are we supposed to do with all of this?

What we do kind of doesn’t matter.

The critique Jesus makes at the beginning (and again in the middle) is that people take advantage of him. Ignore the mission. And, in general, are not worthy of understanding the purpose.

We can take this and make the uplift from the relaxing of burdens into a good note. A kind of, “good thing we don’t need to know.”

Or we can choose to see that as part of what we essentially miss.

But this is the challenge we have every week. To deal with hard things and somehow let the hardship of it go.

It is definitely not the same as making lemonade out of some lemons or seeing the bright side of a cloudy day. This isn’t the feel-good teaching we often come to church hoping to hear. It is something a bit more morose and distressing.

It’s kind of like seeing the outcomes of climate change and still choosing to fight for the future. There is a kind of existential angst in the hearing, then.

That’s what we try to avoid in the pews, demanding something that makes us happy. Demanding the preacher will dance for us. Things to brighten our day—and avoid the pain.

We’re to be honest. And thankful.

Rather than expect. Demand. In our ignorance.

We are to be honest. Thankful. And hopeful.

Because this is the work of Jesus. Not to carry our burdens like a bellhop. The hired help. A slave. Demanded and demeaned.

Like a savior. When we can’t carry it anymore.

Here are some ways I approach this text:

Past Sermons: