The Burden of Sustaining Rest
Slow down with me. Take a deep breath. And read these words of Jesus.
Matthew 11:25-30 ESV
25 At that time Jesus declared, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; 26 yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27 All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. 28 Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 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. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Over the past three months, I have been digging into this passage from the Gospel of Matthew in my Seminary studies. I’ve been writing paper after paper about the context of this passage, what the Gospel of Matthew would be missing if this passage were removed, the grammatical structure of the passage, and an outline of how Jesus leads his listeners through this perfect teaching.
If you’ll allow me, I’d love to give you my commentary on this passage, as if we’re sitting in the same living room, sipping on some coffee, and perusing through the Gospel of Matthew together. Buckle up.
What Does This Passage Say About Who God Is?
A great question to ask yourself when reading a passage of the Bible is this: What does this passage reveal to me about who God is?
In Matthew 11:25-30, Jesus identifies God as both “Father” and “Lord of Heaven and Earth.” (Matt. 11:25 ESV). It is within this statement that Jesus is simultaneously identifying himself as the Son of God, one directly related to his Father, while at the same time not diminishing his Father, who is also Lord of all things created (Heaven and Earth). Put another way, Jesus’ identity is caught up in who the Father is. If it’s important for Jesus to remind himself and all those around him listening that he is a son, don’t you think it’s a good idea for you to remind yourself you’ve been adopted by the same Father through Jesus’ saving work on the cross?!
Who are you? “The one Jesus loves. A beloved son/daughter of God."
In these opening verses, Jesus teaches his listeners about his perfect union with God, and that, within his perfect togetherness with the Father, he still recognizes his Father’s great might and power. Jesus has refused to allow his perfection and familiarity to tame or domesticate his view of the Father’s ultimate authority. He’s giving us a perfect example of what living in the harmony of both the love and the fear of the Lord looks like, working alongside one another. Wow!
Chamblin says it well, “The uniqueness and intimacy of Jesus’ sonship does not diminish but heightens his awareness of the Father’s sublime majesty. Disciples’ prayers, too, must reflect this dual recognition.”[1] God is to be both greatly loved and greatly revered all at once, all the time.
What Does This Passage Say About Us?
It is upon this unshakable foundation that Jesus has laid for us that we can now build our lives upon his abiding truth. As Jesus cries out the following statement, he is creating an invitation to build our lives upon the fellowship he has with his Father. “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.” (Matt. 11:28-30)
What’s a Yoke?
Now, before we get too far into this, I need to bring some brief contextualization to this passage for our 21st-century minds. A yoke is not an egg. Jesus is not saying that his dozen eggs are much lighter than all the other free-range eggs out there. A 'yoke’ was put on animals' backs for pulling heavy loads, and during Jesus’ time, it was a common metaphor used by rabbis to describe the kind of discipleship and training they were being taught. To put it simply, Jesus is saying that his yoke is unlike any other rabbi, pharisee, or sadducee yoke that a student can get.
Right from the get-go, Jesus assumes that there is no such thing as a yoke-less existence.
The question isn’t, are we carrying a yoke? The question is, what kind of yoke are we carrying?
Jesus is speaking to a group of people who are heavily laden with the law of Moses, the overly restrictive rules of the Pharisees, and the weight of their own self-righteousness. In true Jesus fashion, He is making the way to God abundantly simple; if you want to know the Father, you must first strip yourself of the yoke you once carried, the burden of self-righteousness and weariness from sin, and instead cling to the yoke of the Son who perfectly knows how to introduce you to the Father. The disillusionment of everyone living in the post-Eden existence we are living in is that we often think we can somehow get back to Eden (right relationship with God) by carrying a yoke of our own strength, which always inevitably leads to weariness from our own efforts. Jesus is confronting this not by declaring a yoke-less existence, but by offering a different yoke entirely —one that doesn’t lead to burnout but to rest.
Like a beautiful copper-wound acoustic guitar string, Jesus is pulling the tension and making beautiful music between two things: rest and constraint. Sometimes, the simple act of constraining oneself from work, sin, and self-righteousness can feel harder than just resting in what Jesus has provided for us. Sabbath rest (enjoying life and doing nothing in a worshipful way) to the workaholic is a burden in itself. This is why the writer of Hebrews says, “So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his. Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience.” (Heb. 4:9-11) To the writer of Hebrews, to ignore the rest that our great high priest Jesus has provided for us is to fall into disobedience! The only striving we are invited into is that of abiding in the learned yoke of our Kingly Shepherd, who is both gentle and lowly in heart.
But how do I get that yoke?! (still imagining a huge egg) You ask.
By becoming helpless to help yourself. Not helping yourself is sometimes the hardest thing you can do.
Jesus DOESN’T say, “If you take my yoke upon you, you might find rest.” He says you WILL find rest! This is a guarantee from both the Son and the Father who has handed all things over to the Son.
There is no version of following Jesus that does not also include a deep sense of rest for weary hearts. (read that again) The Joy of our salvation is that rest is a guarantee. However, we don’t get to help Jesus make the yoke he puts on our backs. We don’t get to decide its aesthetics, where it will take us, or what it will do to us over time. Our only job is to rest and let the yoke, made from our humble and lowly in heart rabbi, have its way with us.
In his final statement, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”, Jesus gives us the qualities and characteristics we should be looking for when we take his yoke upon us. If the yoke we are carrying does not lead to rest and instead feels heavy and overburdened, this is an excellent indicator that we have placed upon our backs the yoke of the world and not the yoke of our Rabbi King Jesus. This does not mean that his yoke will not have requirements, constraints, and a burden to carry. Yes, you still have to deny yourself and pick up your cross, but even that will provide more rest than anything that pornography, Netflix, Amazon, Instagram, or TikTok can offer. Jesus’ yoke should feel entirely different than any other yoke because it can provide what no other yoke can give us: A burden of sustaining rest, available only to helpless children whose Father reaffirms and reintroduces His kind and faithful presence when we quickly forget who He is and who we are.
[1] J. Knox Chamblin, “Matthew,” in Evangelical Commentary on the Bible, vol. 3, Baker Reference Library (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1995), 735.
