Last week we previewed Jesus’ statement that following him was not difficult. Maybe not a walk in the park, but he isn’t out to make our lives more challenging.
What struck me, seeing the passage in context this week (Mt 11:25-30), is how Matthew positions it alongside a clear christological statement [Christology – the study and explanation of who, or in a sense “what”, Jesus was and how he related to the One God]. Matthew is not on his normal territory here. He could almost be channeling John, who has pages and pages of this sort of stuff.
As an aside, this does allow us to see that these sorts of theological statements are not unique to John and the tradition he represents. These perspectives were widely shared in the early church, which formed a broad and deep understanding of who Jesus was within a very short period after his Resurection. This would be refined and systematized by the theologians of the next few centuries, through to the famous Councils of Chalcedon and Nicaea, which gave us the Creeds we still use today. But these theologians were not inventing anything that had not already been well established by the time of the Gospels.
But why is it significant that Matthew chooses to position Jesus’ statement about the lightness of his burden in such a context? He is clearly drawing special attention to it. Take note!
What Jesus is claiming, both about his authority in respect to the Father, and the demands he (or they) are placing on us, is NOT in line with the common understanding of his time. That understanding was quite the opposite – God expected compliance with a huge complicated set of rules and regulations. So complicated that normal people didn’t have any chance of fully complying. There were small numbers of special people (Pharisees) who trained hard to get as close as possible – a bit like the elite athletes of our time.
This might just be a (possibly) interesting historical aside if it were not for the fact that such perspectives continue today. And it’s not a uniquely Jewish or Christian failing. It seems to be part of the human condition. We can see it in Islam, Buddhism, and all branches of Christianity – perhaps most notably in the evangelical tradition following on from Puritanism, and in parts of the Catholic tradition which emphasize compliance and rigor over love and compassion. You are worthy to be a disciple in so far as you work really hard to comply with the demands of the faith. The expectation is that you will fall short because you are weak and inadequate in the face of the immensity of God. You are lucky that God loves you and you had better do everything you can, inadequate as it is, to show proper appreciation of that fact. And others in the community will judge you for the adequacy (or not) of your striving.
If his burden is indeed light, and he does indeed represent the very essence of God in saying so, then there is really very little scope for us to criticize others, or ourselves, for failings. It doesn’t matter how fast we run or how high we jump. We are not competing for anything. God loves us as we are. We have to accept and enjoy that.