Come to me, all you who are burdened...

"Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for your selves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light." -Matt. 11:28-30

I have heard a number of interpretations of this Gospel passage in the past week due to it's repetition in the liturgical calendar as the selected Gospel reading for mass. I do not wish to pass on to you those interpretations, but something that has been growing in my mind and was only reassured and confirmed by these consoling words of Christ's.

There is another Scripture passage that instantly leaps into my mind, 1 John 5:2-5:
"In this way we know that we love the children of God when we love God and obey his commandments.
For the love of God is this, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome, for whoever is begotten by God conquers the world. And the victory that conquers the world is our faith. Who (indeed) is the victor over the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?" (emphasis added)

What strikes me is that the Lord gives commands and asks efforts that literally seem to be impossible at times. "So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect," Matt. 5:48.
Right, Lord, no problem. Perfect, like God... Love my neighbor and all of that. How often do we feel that way? It nearly makes you laugh, because you have to know how very short you are going to fall of that goal. Yet, Jesus does not leave us on our own with these commands.

St. Paul tells us, "For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God. Consider how he endured such opposition from sinners, in order that you may not grow weary and lose heart. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood." Heb. 12:2-4

This is not a task or requirement that Christ gives without first leading the way.

Jesus himself says, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be. Where (I) am going you know the way." John 14:1-4

 The faith that is not burdensome for us as children of God is the faith that Christ takes our hands and walks with us on a path he knows well. Even when we cannot see, or cannot hear, or do not have the heart to press on, he guides us, he protects us, and if necessary, he carries us.
 
The other recounting of the Beatitudes ends with Jesus' words: "Be merciful, just as (also) your Father is merciful," Luke 6:36.


Perhaps this is the key to understanding how, in faith, we are to strive to be "perfect." God is love, and his love is mercy. To be like him, first and foremost we are to be charitable. The life of the Holy Spirit within us is meant to be this indwelling and filling up of charity that will not stay still. We are to be motivated, moved by, this charity so that it flows freely from us. And so praise should be ever on our lips, and love ever in our hearts.

Of course that is not the way we live each day, or at least, certainly not all the time. Yet, this is why St. Paul tells us we are to continue to struggle against sin. Further in chapter 12 of Hebrews he says, "So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees. Make straight paths for your feet, that what is lame may not be dislocated but healed," (12-13). 

To learn to be merciful, to love God and neighbor in truth and charity, we must understand that the process of loving begins first within ourselves before it can move out towards others. It is first a gift given to us, and then a gift we give. Before we can show mercy to others, or even to ourselves, we must first know the mercy we have received and are receiving from the Lord. We must know that we need healed.

This requires humility on our parts, a humility that is unafraid. We must know that the more we work, the harder we strive, the longer we fight, the more our weaknesses will come before us. Yes, our weaknesses, not our strengths. The life of faith is similar to a muscle, needing to be stretched and pushed beyond its limits bit by bit, until it develops enough strength to move further. Yet, this isn't a muscle that grows quickly, at least not for most. It takes time, and when we relax for a while and stop resisting, it loses ground or grows slack.

Therefore, we must not lose our zeal, and we cannot accept mediocre faith. If we are facing dry periods or great temptations or interior struggles or deep wounds, these are the weaknesses that are to be our avenues for greater mercy and love. We become sensitive to all that the Lord has seen in us, and all of the times we have rejected his love. We realize how stupid and selfish, how tiresome we are. We see how we burden others unnecessarily and weigh them down with our weakness and sin. We become aware of the situations that increase our temptations and lessen our faith. In light of that, we seek mercy for ourselves.

Understanding that God's love is so infinite, so unconditional, we go begging to be held. No, not just pet on the head and acknowledged, we want to be held. We want to be caught up in his arms, kissed and tickled, smiled at and understood. We want to be so imbued with his mercy that forgets sins, that we let go of them ourselves. We want to be healed, and made new. We know, in all honesty, that we may make those same mistakes again, and perhaps very soon. Yet, we also know in all honesty that we love God more, and desire his commands more, and believe in the sacrifice and cross of Christ more.

It is always going to be a weird struggle and a strange contradiction, how we love and yet fail to love. Yet, look at us in our humanity. It is exactly how we relate to others; exactly how we love those closest to us. We love our families, our parents, our sisters and brothers, our husbands or wives, or boyfriends or girlfriends, our children, our dearest friends... yet, we let them down. We find them irritating. We irritate them. We pick fights and hold on to petty issues. We fail to understand their hurts, fail to see into their hearts and know the pains that trouble them. We fail to force ourselves past our own injuries of the day to look into their hearts and help them through theirs. This is the journey I referred to at the beginning. Christ is here, when we cannot see what we need to see, or hear what they need us to hear. Christ is here, when we just can't get it right, and those we love suffer because of it. This is the weakness that he can heal, that he can make strong.

So much of the liturgy of late has spoken of faith in Christ, and how great our faith is. If we know how great our burdens are, we must know, far more than that, how great Christ's love is. His power is unlimited. His mercy is unbounded. His readiness to give us what we need is unhindered. We need to learn the humility to acknowledge our failings and injuries, and the courage and confidence in faith to seek forgiveness and grace.

Frequent the Sacrament of Confession. Try every two weeks, or every week. It will amaze you, how much you learn of your failings. It will also amaze you, how much you learn of mercy. It is hard to hold back forgiveness from another, no matter what they have done to you, when your own apology and receipt of mercy is fresh in your mind.