The yokes on you (part 2)
As the Jewish people were drowning under the rules enforced by the religious leaders of the day, Jesus made this offer:
Matthew 11:28-30
Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take up my yoke and learn from Me, because I am lowly and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.
Jesus uses an analogy here that would have made total sense to his audience, but could easily be lost on us modern readers. As we saw last time, a Rabbi’s teaching was referred to as his “yoke” that was passed down to his disciples. It consisted of his interpretation and application of the Jewish law, which was also combined with the traditions and teachings of previous rabbis. However, there was another common use of the term “yoke”, and it’s one that has lasted much longer through the centuries.
From the Tony Evans Bible Commentary:
A yoke is a wooden bar harnessed to the necks of a pair of oxen to bring them under submission and enable them to do the work that the farmer has for them. To train younger oxen, farmers would yoke them to older, experienced oxen. It provided maturation and development.
Hooking to Jesus’ “yoke” enables you to learn how to live. Therein you will find rest. When you come to Jesus, he gives you rest in terms of your salvation. When you accept the yoke of discipleship you find rest and experience it in your daily life.
Rest for your souls…that sounds really nice. Physical rest is helpful. Mental rest often escapes us. But rest for our soul? To be finally at that place where our deepest weariness is satisfied, that sounds almost too good to be true!
To find that soul-deep level of rest, Jesus says we need to take up His yoke and learn from Him. This passage is often taught where Jesus is the strong, veteran ox and we are to assume the position of the younger ox. In this example, we learn the rhythms of life and grace from Jesus by letting Him do the heavy lifting – and as we mature, develop, and grow stronger, we are able to take on a heavier load. In this, we are told, we find the rest for our souls because we’ve grown into the person God designed us to be.
But recently I’ve been wondering if the typical oxen-training example takes the analogy a bit too far. Jesus doesn’t call Himself the strong ox, instead He simply claims that it is “His yoke”. The oxen do not own the yoke…but the farmer does. The farmer is the one whom the oxen have submitted to. The farmer is the one who plots the course of work. The farmer is the one steering and guiding the oxen.
So, if Jesus is the yoke-owner, who then is the stronger ox? This is where mentorship within the church family comes in. When we first come to Jesus, when we believe in Him for eternal life, we’re adopted into His forever family. When we submit to His yoke, to learn from Him, we could read our Bibles and pray all by ourselves. But how much better would it be if we submitted to being yoked together with a veteran Christian? How much easier would it be to understand God’s guidance and training if a more mature believer was walking beside us?
In my mid-20s, Joe was willing to yoke up with me. He lent his strength as God plowed the ground of my life and my character. Joe helped me understand the guidance and direction God was giving me. Joe walked with me and worked with me through muddy patches, hard ground, and growth-ready pastures.
In today’s church we desperately need veteran believers to be willing to yoke up with new believers. You don’t have to be perfect to do this. If you’ve had a spiritual mentor – imitate them. If you never had a spiritual mentor – just be the mentor you wish you had.
If you are a new believer, have the humility to ask for help. Seek guidance from someone who has lived for Christ and knows how to listen to Him better than you do.
Take up [Jesus’] yoke and learn from Him. The rest you will find is the confidence in His guidance and that He knows the direction you need to go. His yoke is easy and His burden is light – especially when we plow together.
Keep Pressing,
Ken