[1]If you leave St. Patrick’s Cathedral by the front door, on Fifth Avenue, you can’t help but be jolted by the figure greeting you as you leave.
It’s Atlas: a mammoth, four-story-high statue of the Greek titan, cast in bronze, his arms spread wide as he carries the universe on his back. He was created by artist Lew Lawrie in 1937 and it’s the largest sculpture in the Rockfeller Center—bigger, even, than Prometheus, down by the skating rink.
The Atlas we meet as we leave the cathedral makes a powerful statement. As we pass through those massive doors, we leave the house of God . . . and return to the world of gods, the gods of deadlines and headaches in midtown Manhattan. Welcome back, he says, to overdue invoices, to lines and traffic, unemployment and poverty. Welcome back to the things you want but can’t afford. Welcome back to the world—and all the burdens, the weight of the world that everyone carries on their back.[2]
But in today’s gospel, Jesus offers us help. He says, “Take my yoke upon you…For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” (Mt 11:29-30) Seriously!? The last time I checked, some of the things God asks of us are not easy at all. It seems at times, taking on Jesus’ yoke can cost us money, time, convenience, and patience. Keeping the commandments often calls for real sacrifice. Jesus knew that the way of life he was calling us to is idealistic, demanding, and completely counter-cultural, so how can he say his “yoke is easy”?[3]
Let’s look at it this way. God knows our pain, and he shares it. We can have the hope that the prophet Zechariah announces to the nation of Israel because God went all the way and became one of us in the person of his only Son. Jesus lived in a country occupied by foreigners; he worked with his hands and lived a blue-collar life. Like us, he knew what it was to sometimes be exploited, neglected and taken for granted, misrepresented, and misunderstood, even by his closest friends. He carried the cross! He carries us and our sins on his back. Now he asks us to carry one another, assuring us, “whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” (Mt 25:40) Let’s face reality, there are a lot of people on the fringe of our community, some within our community, who are feeling left out, pushed aside, part of an out group, crushed by the weight of this world for so many reasons. Jesus, so many times, showed us what is necessary to invite them closer to him and reintegrate them into the community. How? We start with our self.
When we accept the yoke of obedience to Jesus’ word it brings rest from one’s labors.[4] You see when we view and live obedience to the commandments as a set of rules and restrictive laws; it can feel like the weight of the universe is on our back. Jesus offers us another way. Later in Matthew’s gospel, he makes it clear, you don’t need hundreds of regulations to please God nor need to impose them on our neighbors to have community unity, and we need only to embrace and live two commandments — love God, and love your neighbor.
It sounds so simple, and it does lighten the load, yet doesn’t completely remove the “yoke”. When we think about what it means to love God and love your neighbor — yep, that neighbor — well, we can begin to feel our shoulders sag. The choices are: we can continue to dwell on past hurts which leads to depression, live in the anxiety of what lies ahead in the future, or accept Jesus’ yoke in love. What Jesus offers is not meant as an imposition. Love is never an imposition. It is a choice and a gift, given and lived in the now moment. It is from the here and now, in the depths of our hearts, where we find the strength carry Jesus’ yoke — trusting that the God, who makes all things possible, will also make it possible to bear any burden, to carry any load. And if we do, Jesus — “meek and humble of heart” — assures us he will give us that most blessed gift, rest.
Let’s go back and visit our friend Atlas for a moment. If you look closely at that great statue, you’ll see that he has one sphere on his shoulders that represents the north-south axis of the universe. It is marked to point us toward the North Star. For centuries, that is the star sailors have used to navigate, to determine where they are, and to find their way home. It is the determining point on every compass.
As Catholic Christians, our North Star is Jesus Christ. He gives us direction, guidance, surety. This Eucharistic feast where Jesus offers himself in complete obedience to his Father’s will, points and leads us to our true home. “Home” implies a place of welcome, intimacy, and belonging. All these features are implied when Paul writes, God’s “Spirit that dwells in you.” (Rom 8:11) God’s own Spirit makes a home within each of us.
Remember that, the next time the worries and weight of the world seems to be too much. When we accept Jesus’ yoke, he graces us with his life-imparting gift, the Holy Spirit. Jesus asks us to remain in him as he is in the Father, which helps lift the burdens of this world, makes room for the Holy Spirit to reside in us, and empowers us to shun life according to the flesh, which brings death. With our own home in order, our own life lived in love of God and neighbor; we become free, and contagious, drawing others, who are weighed down by this world, to have a glimpse of heaven even now.
[1] New American Bible, Saint Joseph Edition. © 1986. Scriptures: Zechariah 9:9-10; Romans 8:9,
11-13; Matthew 11:25-30.
[2] Naked, and You Clothed Me, Editied by Deacon Jim Knipper © 2013. “For my yoke is
easy, and my burden light” by Deacon Greg Kandra
[3] Sundays with Jesus,
Reflections for the Year of Matthew, by James DiGiacomo, SJ © 2007.
[4] Living the Word, Year of
Matthew, by
Laurie Brink, O.P. & Paul Colloton, © 2016
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