July 6, 2008

Delivered by Rev. Ellen Brantley

SERMON:  Free in Christ; Bound to Love

TEXT:        Matthew 11:25-30

          Remember when you were a teenager and you couldn’t wait to be free?  Free of the rigid schedule of high school, where you were held prisoner all day?  Free of a curfew and other rules of a home and parents who still treated you like a child?  Free of all the messages of “do this, and don’t do that”?

          And then when you were finally out on your own, you realized that with your new-found freedom came bondage of another sort.  If you didn’t have any money, you couldn’t go out.  Maybe you couldn’t even raid the refrigerator because no one filled it for you.  So you had to get a job.  But the boss had rules – you had to be there on time, and you couldn’t come and go as you pleased.  Or maybe you got a loan or – worse yet – a credit card.  And maybe you didn’t figure out until years later that those brought bondage of a different kind. 

          With every freedom, there is bondage, or – more positively -- responsibility of one kind or another.  When you tell a lie, you might be free from the consequences for a short time, but often to support the first lie, you have to tell another, and another, and soon you’re held captive by the lie.

          When I was in seminary I spend some time working in the drug and alcohol unit of a Veteran’s Hospital.  Here I met a number of men, of all ages and races, both rich and poor, who were trying to find freedom.  Whether they had served in World War II, Vietnam, or the Gulf War, they saw and experienced things that were too horrible to speak about.  And ever since, they had been trying to break free from the memories, the pain, the nightmares, the flashbacks.  But the only thing that would ease the pain, the only thing they could find to help them forget was alcohol and drugs.  Now they were addicted; now they knew pain and horror of a different kind.  Now, perhaps even though they’d achieved a temporary freedom from the memories of war, now they were in bondage to the drugs.

          One of the most appalling images I have ever seen was a picture in a magazine of a man holding a sign that said, “Freedom of choice is the right to hate.”  I cringe ever time I think about it. The circumstances of the picture were that this man was among a group of people who were protesting outside the funeral of a 21-year-old gay student who had been beaten to death.  The man in the picture was smiling and giving a thumbs-up.  He looked proud of himself.  He looked very content with his attitude that “freedom of choice is the right to hate.”  But I have to imagine that the freedom this man thought he knew was really destroying him from the inside out.  There’s a saying that goes, “Hatred is like an acid.  It can do more damage to the vessel in which it is stored than to the object on which it is poured.”  To my way of thinking, you cannot hate so passionately and be at peace with yourself.

          All this talk of freedom comes appropriately on the weekend of Independence Day.  In the United States, we have so many freedoms to celebrate.  Yet, with all the freedoms we enjoy, we are also bound to follow laws that we may not agree with.  We are bound to share our freedom with others whom we may not believe to be worthy of it.  Again, with great freedom comes great responsibility.

          In the church, we talk about freedom in Christ being the ultimate freedom, and yet, there is some bondage that comes with that freedom as well.  In the gospel lesson we heard Jesus saying, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

          At first it may sound a bit contradictory.  It sounds like Jesus is going to free us from our burdens.  But then, in the next breath, Jesus says, “take my yoke upon you.”  Think about what a yoke is:  it’s the wooden or iron frame for joining two oxen or other animals so they can pull a plough or cart.  In Biblical times the yoke was used figuratively as a symbol of hardship, submission, or servitude.  To accept a yoke upon you was to live under a heavy burden of responsibilities.  So, which is it?  Is Jesus going to lift our heavy burdens and free us, or is he simply replacing our current burdens with a different one?

          Actually, it’s both.  Jesus does lift our heavy burdens to give us rest for our souls.  But he does so by asking us to take on his yoke:  the burden of love.  We all know that sometimes to love one another IS quite a burden.  While some people are easy to love, others are not.  But as we learn to love, don’t we often find that the other burdens we carry don’t feel so heavy?  As we learn to give and receive love, don’t we find our souls to be more at rest than they have ever been before?

          That man who thinks that freedom of choice is the right to hate, do you think his soul feels restful?  Do you think he is at peace with himself and with God?  I can imagine him claiming that he is, but I doubt it.

          Freedom in Christ is not the kind of freedom where you can do whatever you want.  It is the freedom to be whom God meant you to be.  One commentary noted that when Jesus says, “my yoke is easy,” that word “easy” could also be translated, “well-fitting.”  The yoke, the burden that Jesus gives us to bear is made to measure for each one of us.  It is made to fit our needs and our abilities exactly.  One person said, “My burden has become my song.”  It is not that the burden is easy to carry, but it is laid on us in love; it is meant to be carried in love; and love makes even the heaviest burden light.  When we remember the love of God, when we know that our burden is to love God and to love one another, then the burden becomes a song.

          Speaking of songs, some of you will remember the song from the sixties, “He ain’t heavy; he’s my brother.”  There’s a story about a man who came upon a little boy carrying upon his back a smaller boy who was crippled.  The man said to the boy, “That’s a heavy burden for you to carry.”  The boy replied, “That’s no burden, that’s my brother.”

          On his deathbed, the famous comic actor, W.C. Fields, could only sleep when he heard rain on his roof.  It was the only time he got any relief from his pain.  But there was a drought in California when Fields lay dying, so his surly disposition was worse than ever.  Yet it rained every night on his house, blessed rain that soothed his pain and allowed him to sleep peacefully.  His daughter, to whom he had been the most difficult of fathers, stood outside with a water hose and made “rain” on the roof all night long.

          Imagine that yoke of Jesus as a yoke that you share with Jesus.  When Jesus shares our burdens the load is divided, AND our joys are doubled.  Love is not always the easiest thing to give, especially when we feel that it’s not returned.  And even if we simply cannot bring ourselves to love an enemy, we can at least ask God in prayers to love them for us.  For love is what makes our burdens light.  Love is what will give us rest for our souls.  Not just the love we receive, but even more, the love that we give.

          FREE IN CHRIST; BOUND TO LOVE.  May we choose this way of life, and may we find rest for our souls.

          TO THE GLORY OF GOD!             AMEN.