“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Matthew 11:28-30, (context, vv. 25-30)
I have thought some on these two verses; I’ve come to the conclusion that it really must be understood as a holy ‘invite.’ A gracious bidding to come to Him, to find much needed rest, and discover meaningful work. This is a gentle summons to blend both rest and work and then live it out in our lives.
Jesus is aware of my weak and faltering steps. I stumble a lot, I weave and trip often. Yet He never criticizes me, He finds no fault, but matches His steps to mine. On His own, Jesus could do the work much faster. But He insists we stay yoked, connected with each other. This amazes me.
The moment we do this we’ll understand that the combination of these two will always balance and correct us. It will pour out of us love, grace and gentleness. The fruits of the Spirit can be seen, and we become salt of the earth.
He invites us to come and be yoked, and to enter into true rest, and true work.
“Thou hast created us for Thyself, and our heart is not quiet until it rests in Thee.”
“The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is justified by her deeds.”
Matthew 11:19, (context, vv. 16-19)
What part does excessive “eating and drinking” don’t we understand? It doesn’t seem entirely ‘religious,’ especially in the thinking of us who observe the life of a pastor or a shepherd. We demand a certain restraint, a standard of separateness from common sinners. That’s seems to be our personal view anyway.
Is gluttony wrong? Is getting a bit tipsy also unacceptable, especially when it comes to “true” religion? Quite often it seems, we have a pious approach toward what we think is ‘true’ faith. We often believe that truth equates to being an ascetic, separate from common sinners. We believe if we are truly holy we will segregate from the ungodly.
It seems that Jesus doesn’t relate to, or accept this viewpoint. He’s single-mindedly serving the Father, in perfect holiness and in true connection with Him. And yet we see Him cavorting with tax-collectors and sinners. We observe Him actually sitting with those we reject as ungodly or unholy.
I must say this before you start looking for rocks to stone me with!
Scripture clearly tells us that we’re to live holy lives. We’re to be wise and have self-control in everything. We should always remember our own ‘black hole’, and begin to see our new life as really incredible. We must allow the “fruits of the Spirit” to grow inside us. And lived rightly, it’s a place of real holiness; and certainly not the ‘pretend’ righteousness of the Pharisee.
Listen very carefully: The Pharisees reject and label those who seem to flaunt the religious norms, but broken believers will truly forgive others, like those who have been radically forgiven themselves. There is a stark difference.
But think about it, aren’t we all a tiny bit ungodly?
Don’t we somehow grade people by their outward appearance and the level of their attainment? It absolutely astounds me that Jesus seems far more comfortable with the outcasts than He does with the Pharisees of His day. He sits with them, and eats and drinks in a fashion that we would regard objectionable.
Jesus loves every person. He loves the unmade, and the unvarnished. He loves being with the ungodly. Yes, He does understand the awful nature of sin; the horrible damage it inflicts on a person’s soul. And yet I’ve come to the conclusion that all my righteous and holy religion is nothing but a very bad smell in God’s nostrils.
Jesus isn’t afraid that we will somehow taint Him by our words, conduct or behavior. He passionately loves those who we deem as outside the norm of our religion. Jesus loves being with ‘nasty’ people. I think He purposefully seeks out the wrong ones!
It fascinates me that Jesus is never afraid that the leper will corrupt or defile Him. He isn’t fearful that somehow He will be contaminated. That’s exactly what the Pharisees thought. But instead it’s the reverse with Jesus. He heals us, and it’s always a one-way current. He touches us, but we’ll never ‘poison’ Him!
Just maybe our awful failure in evangelism is due to our inability to really relate with the lost. We withdraw and then wonder why the unsaved don’t understand the things of God. Have we become so religious that sinners don’t feel comfortable with us, or Him? Could it be that we’re a bit off course? Are we really filled with His Spirit?
“The greatest form of praise is the sound of consecrated feet seeking out the lost and helpless.”
“And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”
Matthew 11:6, (context, vv. 2-6)
Being “blessed” is much more than having lots of money, a nice home or a fancy new car. First and foremost being blessed must be a spiritual word–it seems sometimes we have to rescue the true definition and then bring back its real meaning. The old hymn exhorts the enriched Christian to “count your many blessings, name them one by one.” Singing this will work something inside us.
We become spiritually prosperous when we begin to embrace the reality of Jesus–His words, actions, even His very person becomes the dearest thing we could ever dream of possessing. We’re also blessed when we receive deep inside us the many challenging things He says. We really must absorb these harder words without any reservations. It seems that He doles these things out very carefully.
We have to admit that being scandalized over Him is always a possibility. It can happened to a pastor, or a ‘newbie’ in the faith. No matter who we are, we’re always in the arena, being watched, and our faith in Jesus will be tested. Is it real? Will we be insulted or affronted by the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ? That dear one, it a very real possibility.
Jesus still offends people. There were those who embraced Him, and yet it seems to me that most ended up resisting and rejecting Him. He was a ‘wrench in their machinery,’ an obstacle in their theology. He was constantly doing things that didn’t seem right or proper.
Does Jesus offend you?
“When Jesus came to earth, demons recognized him, the sick flocked to him, and sinners doused his feet and head with perfume. Meanwhile he offended pious Jews with their strict preconceptions of what God should be like. Their rejection makes me wonder, could religious types be doing just the reverse now? Could we be perpetuating an image of Jesus that fits our pious expectations but does not match the person portrayed so vividly in the Gospels?”
“And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward.”
Matthew 10:42, (context vv. 40-42)
People are empty, desperate and spiritually dead. I once served Jesus as a “street preacher” in the inner-city of San Francisco. Over and over, I saw the heavy darkness of the city. I was the ‘point-man’ who led a team of believers who were training to do church on the street. Once a dedicated pastor-friend told me he believed that a cult a day was born there. What pain that must bring to God!
People have a tremendous need. They’re waiting, and they are desperately thirsty, and I witnessed it first hand. I saw every weird aberration of truth that floated through the hearts of lost people. At times I began to understand the broken heart of God, and it hurt me inside. I never asked for it. But sometimes He gives it to those who are trying to follow Him.
So, we hand out cold water. We give it to His followers without considering if they’re worthy of it. We freely serve it to Jesus’ “littlest” disciples. Stature in our eyes means zero to God, and yet it somehow means everything to us. Often His grace comes through the small hands of another child of God. That’s the way it’s suppose to work anyway.
“Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.”
Luke 6:38, ESV
Rewards will be given. They come to anyone who dares to reach into the life of another. The giver will always be seen by our Lord– everything we do, or don’t do, is lovingly observed by Him. This simple cup of water now has eternal consequences. We can hardly believe it, but it’s true.
“There are many of us that are willing to do great things for the Lord, but few of us are willing to do little things.”
“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. 38 And whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.”
Matthew 10:37-38 (context, vv. 34-38)
It’s funny, but we never realize that the challenges of following Jesus are never more than the cost of not following Him. The cross leads to death, most certainly. But let’s never forget that there is a resurrection that does happen after that death. We’ll never live unless we die first.
The problem is that we don’t want to die!
We cling to our lives with the intensity of a drowning man clinging to a ‘life ring.’ We dare not let go. We dare not simply give up and really call out to Jesus. We hang on to the old life, and as a result, will never, ever experience the new. We believe that we will really drown. We are afraid.
Jesus is demanding from us a preeminent love for Him. A love that ‘nullifies’ anything earthly; a love that surpasses anything “good and proper.” He wants it all! There will be no competition, no contesting our love for Him. Jesus is either all, or He will be nothing.
Yes, there is a “cross.”
There will be a awful terrible death to everything we think brings us life. The “disciples” understood crucifixion. A Roman general once did it to the members of a Jewish rebellion. He lined the highways with 2000 crosses, to declare the iron-clad sovereignty of Rome.
Yes, the disciples knew. They remembered the horrifying deaths of so many. They undoubtedly passed by these insurrectionists who hung on these crosses and died. They vividly understood that a cross wasn’t a piece of jewelry, but it meant an awful bloody death of a human being. They knew. The cross was gruesome.
Following Jesus means this kind of death.
It ends everything dear to us. It irrevocably ends life as we know it. Life now consists of having a first love, a renouncing everything else that we hold dear. The relationships we thought were good, are now stumbling blocks to the path to our cross.
Yes, there is always a resurrection. Life will be given back to us. But death comes first, and it is incredibly painful. Sometimes we preach and teach, we embrace a “resurrection” life that excludes a cross. We jump right into a Christianity that has circumvented a terrible death. We are now officially, “cross-less Christians.”
“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”
Matthew 10:29-31, (context, vv. 26-3).
Jesus communicates this promise to disciples facing the harsh reality of persecution. These verses are embedded in the context of abuse and mistreatment. They are meant to comfort believers when things are wicked and dark. The world does not love the Christian, it really does hate us, and the persecution ranges from a simple ostracism to outright murder.
Sparrows and hair.
God is a wonderful mathematician. He constantly keeps track of all that concerns us. Sparrows are fairly insignificant. They really don’t amount to much of anything, their value works out to a measly penny. And when it comes to the hair on our heads, we can rest assured that He has His abacus out.
But the real issue is of the person who is being persecuted. Sparrows and hair become present reminders of the intense concern of the Father. He is deeply aware with the details, those intricate facets of our very modest lives. Everything about us is counted and analyzed. Truly the believer is under God’s microscope, (Psalm 139:1-18). That is a good thing.
These wonderful words, vv. 29-31, are often applied to ‘general’ living. Seldom do we realize that the context is that of persecution. That is their truest use. These simple promises fit quite well when they’re understood from that idea, and it seems that’s when they make the most sense; they comfort us in the deepest part of our spirit when we need it the most.
Sparrows and hair.
These are fairly common things, things that we can understand, things that are easily embedded into our thinking. Jesus promises the simple believer mysteries that are truly powerful–ideas that come out of the deep heart of God Himself. These assurances become profound intricacies that directly impact our lives.
So there we have it. There exists a holy math that surrounds the simplest believer. These are straightforward sureties that even children can understand and trust. We discover verses that carry out the “fear not” thought that is part of scripture– promises that are quite wonderful for those who are being pummeled by the darkness.
“So do not fear, I am with you, do not be dismayed, for I am your God, I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
“Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Beware of men, for they will deliver you over to courts and flog you in their synagogues.
Matthew 10:16-17 (context, vv. 16-24)
We are being sent into a dangerous place. There will be those who hate us, they take us and lead us into courts and they will bring out a whip. The world is not a kind place for believers in Jesus. He warns the disciples of a definite persecution that they face as His disciples. This deep darkness has teeth.
The servant of Jesus will never be “above His master.” Since they called Jesus, “Beelzebul,” they’ll certainly “malign those of His household” (Matthew 10:24-25). We must accept this. At best they will criticize, and at worst they will kill us. We are facing a hostile world who hates our faith.
If a Christian is not having tribulation in the world, there’s something wrong!
And yet Jesus still sends us. We dare not step away from this viciousness. It’s part of the package He gives. We should expect to be treated this way. Jesus warns us honestly of the terrible things we can expect, He does not sugarcoat things. The Lord is well-acquainted with what the world is capable of.
When sheep and wolves meet each other it becomes a slaughter house. And yet there is another side to all of this. We are called to think like a serpent, to have a definite wisdom of all that must be faced, and what we must do to faithfully survive this persecution.
It troubles me somewhat that believers are called to be snakes. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to equate to an innocent faith in Jesus. (Snakes are bad, at least in my thinking). And yet Jesus clearly welds this holy innocence with a wisdom that is very much aware. I suppose that there is a thoughtful balance here, we must find it, and then live it out.
He calls us to vulnerability, most certainly, but mixed into this we need a grasp of being aware; a holy shrewdness (but never a naïvety) that knows how to face the darkness without becoming apostate. We need to use our brains, but be led by our hearts. We are His witnesses, but we must never become His victims.
“It has become a settled principle that nothing which is good and true can be destroyed by persecution, but that the effect ultimately is to establish more firmly, and to spread more widely, that which it was designed to overthrow. It has long since passed into a proverb that “the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.”
“And proclaim as you go, saying, ‘The kingdom of heaven is at hand.’Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, cast out demons.”
Matthew 10:7-8, (context vv. 5-15)
Heal. Raise. Cleanse. Cast out. What a job description for Jesus’ disciples! He truly believes that those who follow Him are ready, and it’s time for them to go to work. I suppose they could keep sitting at Jesus’ feet, just soaking up His teaching, and watching Him do His miracles. But this isn’t what they’re called to do. They’ve sat long enough.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s vital that we absorb His words to us. It’s absolutely critical that we hear His voice and really do find our rest in Him. We must intimately listen to Jesus and be filled with His Spirit. Yet it strikes me that far too many disciples think their life is an inward one; a concentration on personal growth and one’s own spiritual attainment. But I don’t think this is the case.
The disciples must go to work.
Jesus ‘commissions’ them to go out and proclaim the ‘Kingdom come.’ The labors of Jesus must be done by these inadequate (and sinful) men. Heal. Raise. Cleanse. Cast out. It’s time for them to go out and meet the desperate needs of the world. But stepping out can be a scary thing.
The works that these disciples are to do are truly marvelous. They now have an ability and an anointing to do remarkable things. Jesus is comfortable that His disciples are ready, and yet knows that when they return they will have much to learn from Him. It seems however, that we are waiting for a certain amount of “perfection” before we step out.
Most of us, I suppose, are ‘hamstrung’ by our own sin. We see know our inadequacies and deep weaknesses. Most of the time we feel completely unworthy. Seldom do we think we’re ready to spread the Kingdom news to a needy world. Our own sin, we believe, disqualifies us from ministry to others. It seems Satan is very quick to neutralize us, and to annul the “work” of the Father. He accuses us, and we listen.
We’re overwhelmed by what we see within us, and as a result we seldom see the needs around us.
It seems we shelf His work and replace our faith into some sort of personal rehabilitation program. “When we are finally holy enough, we will hit the streets.” Until then, we will try to get enough personal purity to work His miracles. Commendable I suppose, but I don’t think this is what Jesus intends. I’m convinced the work itself is a vital part of our sanctification.
“The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”
Matthew 9:37-38, (context, vv. 35-38)
The issue here is laborers–this is our work, plain and simple. The fact is that there isn’t enough workers. It’s funny, it seems God is constrained by our prayers–earnest prayers for a harvest to be brought into the barns. But there aren’t enough hands. The harvest will be ruined if help doesn’t come soon.
God must have our help if it’s going to get done.
The harvest seems contingent on our prayer life. We decide what is going to happen. Prayer is the work of the authentic believer and our hearts must be for the fields. We are the people who work, who sweat, and get tired. That is our call. That is the true work of discipleship.
Mother Teresa once commented that what we see in front of us is our “Calcutta.” We have got to open our eyes and look, we must see the incredible needs of desperate people that surround us. We must have eternal eyes–God’s eyes. We do our work on behalf of others. I really do believe that it will be ‘sweaty’ prayers that will move the hand of God.
I think ‘prayer’ is the real work in evangelism.
Prayer is our effort that gets combined with the Holy Spirit’s great passion of lost souls. Our “earnest” prayer for the harvest will call workers to the fields. Every generation is responsible for their own part of the field.
For some reason God has chosen to limit Himself by our decision to pray. He patiently waits for us to intercede. Everything seems contingent on us, we can point no finger at God, or accuse Him of ignoring the work that must be done. We must make the decision. Evangelism, and missions, is God’s intense passion. He now shares with us this responsibility.
All of Heaven is standing on its tiptoes, waiting to hear our pleas for the lost.
“Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you.”
And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her,
“Do not weep.”
Then he came up and touched the coffin, and the bearers stood still. And he said,
“Young man, I say to you, arise.”
Luke 7:13-14 (context, vv. 11-17)
Widows who had no family to support them had it rough. This woman’s husband had died and now her only son was gone. A widow was forced to rely on relatives to meet their needs, but now she had no one. She was all alone and faced a very difficult life. She was vulnerable. And now she saw her only son being carried out of the city to be buried.
The two groups came together. Jesus and His group of disciples were going into Nain and met the funeral procession coming out. Jesus came to the woman as she led the crowd. She was weeping as she walked. I have to believe that His heart met hers.
Jesus response to her was mercy and compassion.
I really think His heart was broken for her. He immediately stopped the funeral march and went straight to her to comfort and console. Apparently no one else took up this. Yet Jesus went to her. That really encourages me.
The body had been washed and rubbed with aromatic spices. His hair had been combed and his fingernails had been clipped. He had been carefully wrapped in linen according to Jewish custom. He had been placed in an open funeral bier, to be carried to the grave site.
Nain was an interesting place. Just a few miles away the prophet Elisha had raised the dead by laying on the corpse repeatedly, 2 Kings 4:32-35. Jesus however, raises the dead with a simple sentence. I think that is interesting. It shows that the power of God that resides in the person of Jesus.
God cares for people.
Obviously Jesus is a full and complete member of the Trinity. He possesses all power and strength. He is the Word and the Creator of everything in the universe. And yet we see that this all powerful one is full of mercy and compassion. He loves widows and orphans. He loves people, and understands their needs. He rolls up His sleeves and enters into their pain and misery.
I suppose the compassion that Jesus has is the most intriguing part of Matthew 7. God loves people intensely. He intervenes in their lives. He meets needs that no one else can understand. He possesses all power and has an infinite amount of love. He can be trusted to meet every need. After all, He can raise the dead with a few simple words.
“His is a loving, tender hand, full of sympathy and compassion.”
The Red Letters of Jesus 