Every follower of Jesus is offered the gifts of grace without any strings (or ribbons) attached. All of us have full access to these gifts. Paul writes that we are brought into right relationship with God entirely as a gift of His radical and amazing love.
When God our Savior revealed his kindness and love, He saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He washed away our sins, giving us a new birth and new life through the Holy Spirit. He generously poured out the Spirit upon us through Jesus Christ our Savior. Because of his grace he made us right in his sight and gave us confidence that we will inherit eternal life. (Titus 3:5-7, NLT)
Grace is the best deal ever offered and yet we often resist opening this gift from our Lord. We can’t believe it is true. We fear it can’t be possible that we can be loved, accepted, and adopted when we know our behavior doesn’t deserve such love.
But that is the miracle of grace.
A humorous Christmas song gives a clue to the mindset that makes it so hard to open the gift of Grace.
The song “I’m Gettin’ Nuttin’ for Christmas” sums up the lie that Satan sells to every seeker of Jesus that your rewards are tied directly to behavior.
I’m gettin’ nuttin’ for Christmas Mommy and daddy are mad I’m getting nuttin’ for Christmas ‘Cause I ain’t been nuttin’ but bad
That seems about right to our performance based mindset. I have not done what I should have. God has to be disappointed and maybe even a little ticked off at me so I don’t deserve this grace. I need to buck up and try harder and THEN I will earn God’s love. What a sad misunderstanding of how God wants to relate to His children.
The Christian life is a life of grace from beginning to end and it is all based on what Jesus has done for us and not on anything we have done for Him. We enter into this journey with Jesus by grace, we live it by grace, and we enter God’s eternal presence by grace.
During the Christmas season children learn that they get good things when they are good. Santa is pleased (and we later substitute God) when we obey. So we learn early that we had better be good. Or least fool everyone around us to think that we are being good.
I remember (vaguely) the tension of the Santa Claus years. I knew I hadn’t really changed much. I tried to modify my behavior for a week or two leading up to Christmas but I knew I had failed to really be good.
I carried that Santa process into my relationship with God. I need to behave better. Just like Santa we think that Jesus is making a list and He is checking it not once or twice but every moment of every day. God knows if you’ve been bad or good so if you want to be blessed and loved you had better be good or you will get nuttin’ from Him.
Satan sells the lie so convincingly. And we buy it for months and years and even decades. I did.
But God and Santa are very different in their approach. God does not keep a list. He is not impressed by our hernia inducing straining to control sin.
God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. (Ephesians 2:8-9, NLT)
Jesus offers us so many gifts. Sometimes it seems we have the hardest time unwrapping the gift of grace. The stunning radicality of grace is that what seems to be too good to be true is more true than we can imagine. This unconditional love from God is unrelated to the emotions, expectations and desires that taint our human love. I am choosing to believe that truth this Christmas. I am going to allow God to love me and not attempt to earn that love. I am not going to remind myself why I am not worthy. I am going to open my arms and my heart to His love. My feelings ebb and flow. God’s feelings for me are a consistent fountain of grace so I am going to jump in the fountain today and splash around with joy.
Receiving this gift is based simply on coming to Him in humble need. Go straight to the gift of grace that Jesus left under the Cross. Open it. And clothe yourself in His salvation, acceptance and love. It may be the best gift you have ever given yourself. Unwrap the gift of grace without guilt this Christmas and rejoice in it everyday. It was left there just for you.
Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year. I love the music, the memories, the traditions, and the chance to annually think about Burl Ives.
His memory returns with the annual airing of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Ives is the voice of Sam the Snowman who narrates the “enhanced” story of Rudolph.
Rudolph and his elf buddy Hermey don’t fit in with the others. Rudolph looks different than his peers. Hermey is not interested in making toys. In an odd plot twist, Hermey wants to be a dentist. Not surprisingly, his elf supervisor is upset with the unproductive Hermey. So the two outcasts set off to find their purpose and a place to be accepted.
The part of the story that resonates with me these days is when Hermey and Rudolph find their way to the Island of Misfit Toys. All of the toys on this island are castoffs because they are flawed and deemed worthless. There is a “Charlie in the Box” and a train with square wheels. A boat that sinks in water and a squirt gun that shoots jelly. All of these flawed toys are banished to the Island of Misfit Toys simply because they are different.
That is how I picture so many sad and tired followers of Jesus. They see themselves as misfits. They believe they are flawed and not worth much of anything. They have allowed a perceived idea of what a “good” Christian should look like to cause them to feel like they don’t measure up. The doubts overwhelm them. Discouraged followers of Christ start thinking thoughts like these.
I don’t have theological training. I can’t sing well. I am not a good teacher. I am afraid to share my faith. I feel awkward in groups. I am not a leader. I don’t have much to offer.
But that is not how the Bible describes a follower of Christ. Every Christian is described as being part of the body of Christ. Scripture makes it clear that every part of the body of Christ is vital to the healthy function of the church. Henri Nouwen wrote that every follower of Jesus has a God designed role.
“We seldom realize fully that we are sent to fulfill God-given tasks. . . . We act as if we were simply dropped down in creation and have to decide how to entertain ourselves until we die. But we were sent into the world by God, just as Jesus was. Once we start living our lives with that conviction, we will soon know what we were sent to do.”
So if you are feeling like a misfit toy this Christmas season you can trust this truth. You have a divine purpose. God does not make misfits. He creates people in His image with value and great worth. Satan would like you to retreat to your own island of misfits to feel sad and worthless. But God has another gathering place in mind.
The Island of Grace. On that island you are not a misfit. You are a beloved child of God. You are a saint. And in this wonderful place there are no misfits. Every blemish makes you more valuable, not less. Brokenness makes you more beautiful. The miracle of Christmas makes us friends to the King. Paul made that abundantly clear with these words of encouragement to the Church in Rome.
So now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God because our Lord Jesus Christ has made us friends of God. (Romans 5, NLT)
Friend of God? Hard to feel like a misfit if you believe that is true. Open that gift this year and keep it close to your heart.
Amy Grant recorded “My Grown-up Christmas List” for her “Home For Christmas” album. The lyrics imagine an adult going back to Santa with a different perspective on what matters most in life. Instead of material things the writer now asks for good things for others. I love the sentiment of the song.
No more lives torn apart That wars would never start And time would heal all hearts Everyone would have a friend And right would always win And love would never end This is my grown-up Christmas list
I thought about my “grown-up” Christmas list. I would love for all of the things in the lyrics above to come true. But I have lived enough to know they likely will not. Every day some lives are torn apart. Wars start too frequently. Time does not heal every heart. Some who are reading this are lonely. Right seems to lose way too often and love ends heartbreakingly for many.
So what could I wish for that would be available for all? My grown-up Christmas list would have one simple wish.
That every person would truly understand the outrageous grace gift that God offers to each one of us. All we have to do is open that gift in faith. Christmas is when the gift came to earth wrapped in swaddling clothes.
I wish that everyone who hears the Gospel message would comprehend the one way love that God demonstrated. Instead of turning His back on sinners who deserved just that God chose to reach out to His creation with a radical plan for forgiveness. A plan that is unlike any other religion in history. Man made religion always demands something to earn salvation. God’s plan for redemption requires the lost to bring nothing to the table other than their sin and the need for salvation. Nothing.
God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. (Ephesians 2:8-9, NLT)
Not a single requirement other than believing. A gift of grace. The plan is so radical that it feels otherworldly. Salvation is complete and God’s gift shows His desire to know us as His beloved children.
I wish that everyone who believes the Gospel would truly believe that they are a brand new creation. Recreated as a saint with complete freedom in Christ. Adopted as a child of God. Forgiven forever. And that all of those things are completely true because of Jesus.
I wish I could give those things to everyone on my list. Life will give us sadness, loss and loneliness but trust in Jesus gives us hope in the darkest storm. It started with the baby we celebrate at Christmas. The gift of forgiveness and hope is available to everyone. Receiving that gift is my wish for you this Christmas.
Last week we had to say goodbye to our sweet rescued dog Maggie. I spent the last few days looking back at what I wrote about Maggie in 2014 when my book Stay was submitted for publication. She was just a couple of years old when I finished the manuscript so I decided to write an epilogue about her amazing development over the last 10 years. If you have a copy of Stay: Lessons My Dogs Taught Me about Life, Loss, and Grace you can print this out and put it at the end of the volume. I don’t think Tyndale Momentum Publishing will reissue the book to include this chapter but feel free to ask them!
Our girl was found running loose near Van Alstyne, Texas in the fall of 2012. She was a few months old when rescued but was in very bad shape with an open gash on her leg. She was undernourished and tested positive for hookworms. A rescue organization brought her in, healed her up, and found a foster home. Her assigned foster home name was Savannah. We decided to adopt her but we had to change her name because the name Savannah was just too close to our recently deceased dog Hannah. Maggie could have been her third name in a very short lifespan and that had to be confusing for her.
Everything was a mystery. Was she wanted and ran away? Was she unwanted and abandoned to fend for herself? Was she treated poorly? Had she been socialized with other animals and people? The details of her story—who, what, where, when, why—surely influenced her behavior.
Maggie’s biggest issue was trust. I certainly get that. She was lost, captured, hospitalized, kenneled, fostered, and then adopted. Each day, I tried to read Maggie’s expressions and body language. Did she think we were just one more way station on her sad journey? She seemed appreciative of everything we gave her, yet she was still wary. Her personality was friendly at times, but then she’d become withdrawn and want to hide. She would accept affection but she rarely initiated it. The message she was sending was “It’s okay. I can make it on my own.”
I related to that spiritually, I was generally grateful for God’s gift of grace. I openly proclaimed the “title” of believer but sometimes I failed to really trust God in tough times. I would accept that I was forgiven but I often tried on my own to control my wrong behaviors and my trust was too often situational.
Something beautiful happened as our time with Maggie grew. She began to trust that this place where she landed was for real and that we were always there for her. Maggie began to relax. Her already sweet spirit grew as she showed incredible patience with our grand kids when they climbed on her, pulled her tail, and shared her bed. She greeted Joni and I upon each return home with body shaking enthusiasm and intense sniffs. Over the years Maggie developed anxiety during storms and fireworks. Instead of going into hiding she began to come to us for comfort. Another lesson learned from her. In times of stress the best thing to do is go to a reliable source of comfort. For Maggie the source was the ones who gave her a home with love. For me the source was easy. The one who gave me love, forgiveness, grace, and hope.
And now, just as you accepted Christ Jesus as your Lord, you must continue to follow him. Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness. (Colossians 2:6-7, NLT)
Last week we were shocked that Maggie was unexpectedly unable to move. We took her into the emergency clinic to see what was going on. Maggie remained gentle even when the doctor had to cause some pain to test her movement. The vet tenderly petted her and said this.
”I wish all of our patients were this sweet.”
My heart melted as I looked into her eyes. She responded to our touch. Even in her pain this sweet girl still lived in the moment with a heart for her people. Looking back over Maggie’s life I can relate to so much of her journey. I was also a mess running roughshod into unknown trouble. I was also rescued by the Lord in my darkest moment. Jesus patiently loved me as I slowly learned to trust Him just as Maggie learned to trust her rescuers. And now I hope to follow her example to love others and live in the moment until the very end of my journey. Maggie was special. Her story is finished but I am certain that in my heart it will never be forgotten. Thank you sweet girl for bringing so much joy into our lives.
Maggie is a Labrador puppy mixed with some other mystery DNA. She is a bouncing, wiggling, sixty-pound bundle of unrestrained energy. Whenever she sees a new person, she cannot stop herself from jumping. Oddly enough, some people do not enjoy sixty-pound creatures hurdling pell-mell into their personal space. Weird. So we either need to fix this bad behavior or become hermits.
Today we enrolled Maggie in puppy training classes. One of the first things the instructor, Tony, said was both apparent and profound.
“First of all, you have to teach her to sit and stay. When she is sitting, she can’t jump and misbehave.”
Thank you, Captain Obvious.Wait a minute. Is this another lesson for me in my discipleship-by-dog journey? Maggie needed to learn to sit to avoid committing doggie offenses. I need to sit too, in a spiritual sense. The truth is, when I abide(the biblical version of “sitting”) in Christ, I am empowered to resist sin.
But how can I abide? What does that even mean?
The first time I heard the word abide used was in a lesson taken from the Gospel of John in the King James Version, the Bible I read growing up.
Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.
John 15:4-5, kjv
I knoweth not about thee, but verily I was confused. When I looked up the definition of abide later, it helped clarify what it meant. Abide: 1) to accept something or someone unpleasant; 2) living somewhere; 3) to remain or continue. That was it—to remain or continue—or in Maggie’s terms, “to stay.” Other Bible translations have captured that nuance of abiding or “staying” in Jesus.
Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me. Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing.
John 15:4-5
Jesus’ message to His followers is to simply remain constantly aware of who we are and where our strength and dependence must be found. It’s tempting and easy to make it all about us instead of Jesus; Satan will always seek to engage us in bad and/or good things if either one takes our eyes off Jesus. If I am wholly absorbed in spiritual things apart from Christ, things I do more to impress others and hope those wonderful deeds will ensure my salvation, I am engaging in good, but not life-changing endeavors.
We are branches that need to be connected to the Vine. We are not to be independent vines but dependent branches of the life-giving Vine.
I think that we misunderstand the phrase “apart from me you can do nothing.” Of course I can do something and often even significant things apart from Jesus. I can have success, make money, and maybe achieve fame. But there is one significant thing that we absolutely cannot do apart from Christ: produce fruit that pleases God. The branch cannot produce fruit when it is disconnected from the vine.
Jesus is the true Vine, and if I am joined to Him I will produce fruit. He doesn’t say I might produce fruit. He doesn’t say I could produce fruit if the circumstances are right. Or that I will occasionally bear fruit. Jesus says that if I remain in Him I will produce much fruit. If I don’t remain in Him, I become barren and worthless to Him and His Kingdom.
How do we produce the fruit that Jesus is describing? By not allowing our relationship with Christ to be broken, for us—the branches—not to be severed from the Vine. Our connection to Jesus is not a one-time or yearly or monthly or weekly or daily synchronization. It is not like the intermittent syncs I perform with phone to update information. It is a continuous awareness of our connection to Christ. That connection allows the fruit of the Spirit to grow abundantly in us and become a part of who we are. The apostle Paul describes exactly what kind of fruit that is.
The Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
Galatians 5:22-23
By remaining in an unbroken connection with Christ, we begin to take on His character and produce that kind of fruit. But it can only happen if we “stay” constantly in that relationship.
It didn’t take long for Maggie’s dog trainer to pinpoint another clue to her behavior. “Maggie is not being belligerent. She has learned to fend for herself. Maggie views you as a caretaker and not a leader. She needs to see you as the leader that she can follow.”
It made perfect sense. Maggie accepted our gifts of food and a comfortable bed but, in her mind, she was still in charge. Joni and I wrongly assumed that Maggie was being manipulative when all she was really communicating was, “Somebody needs to be in charge, and since you’re not stepping up as a leader, I guess it’s my job.” Over the weeks, when we consistently took on the role of leader and loved her, she willingly submitted.
That lesson has hit a little too close to home for me. I have accepted with varying degrees of gratitude God’s gifts of forgiveness, grace, and salvation. But too often I’m guilty of wanting to fend for myself and be the leader. “Thank You, Lord, for everything, but I prefer to be in charge.”
The gospel says I need to get over me and get with Him. I need to constantly remind myself of the radical and reckless joyride that the gospel of grace makes possible. Author Dane Ortlund says it well.
It’s time to enjoy grace anew—not the decaffeinated grace that pats us on the hand, ignores our deepest rebellions and doesn’t change us, but the high-octane grace that takes our conscience by the scruff of the neck and breathes new life into us with a pardon so scandalous that we cannot help but be changed. It’s time to blow aside the hazy cloud of condemnation that hangs over us throughout the day with the strong wind of gospel grace. You “are not under law but under grace” (Rom. 6:14). Jesus is real; grace is defiant; life is short; risk is good. For many of us the time has come to abandon once and for all our play-it-safe, toe-dabbling Christianity and dive in. It’s time, as [Robert Farrar] Capon put it, to get drunk on grace—200-proof, defiant grace.
In chapter 8, I talked about the importance of shaking off the sin that slows us down and trips us up. Even though it sounds like a daunting and even impossible task, the author of Hebrews sums up how to do that in one powerful sentence: “We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith” (12:2).
That is it. There is no other way to consistently live that life apart from keeping our eyes on Jesus. It was a principle that the apostle Peter illustrated clearly for us in this familiar story.
The boat was far out to sea when the wind came up against them and they were battered by the waves. At about four o’clock in the morning, Jesus came toward them walking on the water. They were scared out of their wits. “A ghost!” they said, crying out in terror.
But Jesus was quick to comfort them. “Courage, it’s me. Don’t be afraid.”
I love how the impetuous faith of Peter (and me) is captured in the next verses.
Peter, suddenly bold, said, “Master, if it’s really you, call me to come to you on the water.”
He said, “Come ahead.”
Jumping out of the boat, Peter walked on the water to Jesus.
It was going great for the “suddenly bold” Peter when he kept his eyes on Jesus and walked in faith. And then . . .
But when he looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and started to sink. He cried, “Master, save me!”
Jesus didn’t hesitate. He reached down and grabbed his hand. Then he said, “Faint-heart, what got into you?”
Matthew 14:24-31, The Message
The same is true for me. When I keep my eyes on Jesus, I have the strength to be bold and the ability to produce fruit that is pleasing to God. When Maggie cannot settle down, I tell her to sit so she can focus on calming down and doing the right thing. When she stays and regroups, things go well for her. When my thought life and actions cannot settle down, I need the Holy Spirit to firmly but lovingly tell me to sit . . . stay . . . abide.
Only then do I realize that I have turned my eyes away from Jesus. When I stay, I can focus on His peace, love, forgiveness, and grace, and have the ability to resist sin.
If I am anxious, fearful, have doubts, or am sad, I need to sit, stay, and abide, looking at the One who initiates and perfects my faith.
The apostle Paul spent a little over two years teaching and discipling the new believers in Ephesus before he continued on his missionary journey. It didn’t take long for the once-zealous converts to revert to their old habits of immorality, lying, stealing, and gossiping. In other words, things were a mess in the Ephesian church. Paul, who had witnessed the believers’ initial spiritual fervor, got wind of what had happened and wrote a letter to the church’s leaders to address this sad turn of events.
His letter is nothing like the one I would have zipped off to Ephesus if I had been in Paul’s sandals. My letter would have started, “What is wrong with you people? Don’t you know how embarrassing this is, especially since I sacrificed so much for you?” But Paul doesn’t do that; in fact, he never mentioned how badly they had botched things until halfway through the letter. Rather, he begins by reminding these errant followers who they are, praying these heartfelt words for them.
Ever since I first heard of your strong faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for God’s people everywhere, I have not stopped thanking God for you. I pray for you constantly, asking God, the glorious Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, to give you spiritual wisdom and insight so that you might grow in your knowledge of God. I pray that your hearts will be flooded with light so that you can understand the confident hope he has given to those he called—his holy people who are his rich and glorious inheritance.
I also pray that you will understand the incredible greatness of God’s power for us who believe him. This is the same mighty power that raised Christ from the dead and seated him in the place of honor at God’s right hand in the heavenly realms.
Ephesians 1:15-20
You get through storms and trials by remembering who you are. Paul wonderfully reminded the Ephesians that they had been adopted, redeemed, and sealed. And then he prayed for them again.
When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.
Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. Glory to him in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever! Amen.
Ephesians 3:14-21
I would imagine the church leaders opened Paul’s letter with fear, trembling, and shame. They expected to be excoriated but they were lavished with grace instead. They had failed, but Paul reminded them of the Person who had not failed. Only after first affirming His love did Paul begin to address their sin.
What a difference between that approach and what too many of us experience. We tend to address the sin first. Stop that! Quit! Do better! And by the way, Jesus loves you. Or worse, He will love you when you do better. Paul took the grace exit instead. Remember who you are! You are saints! Beloved! Adopted! Redeemed! Those same truths are ours to claim as we
Sit.
Stay.
Abide.
Eyes on Jesus.
When we quit fighting to get better and do those four simple things, something amazing happens. We get better.
Following Jesus is far from effortless; it requires work. But I would suggest that our real assignment is to focus on Him and recognize how much that impacts our lives. To get our eyes off ourselves truly is hard work, a sacrifice.
My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.
Galatians 2:20, emphasis added
When I forget those truths and I am tempted to sin, I will simply remember what I tell Maggie when she is out of line. When she is jumping up and playfully lunging at us, I have to speak truth into her life. She is a big girl who needs to learn what her boundaries are. She needs to settle down or a playful moment will turn into a time-out. So I calmly but firmly speak to her.
Sit.
Stay.
Maggie is learning that she is rewarded when she sits and stays. She will get to play, have treats, or receive the affection that she was hoping to receive.
She is teaching this old dog that I need continual refresher courses too.
Today Maggie took me out for a drag. I would prefer that her idea of a walk would more closely resemble mine, so we have some work to do. I either need to find a way to train her not to pull me around the neighborhood or rescue ten more Labs just like her and enter the Iditarod dog sled race. I don’t particularly care for freezing to death, so I think I will work on training Maggie to walk instead of pull.
Maggie has definitely made progress learning her commands, but I knew that she needed some extra help on the walking front. A tip from our trainer led us to a device called the Gentle Leader. He demonstrated how it works and we were sold. It’s a harness that fits over the dog’s head and snout but it isn’t as restrictive as a muzzle can be; Maggie is free to sniff, drink, and explore without restriction. After getting fitted at the store, we went home and gave our new device a try. It was, in a word, amazing.
Maggie made a couple of attempts to take control, but with a small tug I let her know that I was the leader and she complied without a struggle. I had learned that many dogs instinctively pull on a traditional leash or shoulder harness. Maggie had great instincts on that front. With the new harness I can easily and gently redirect her. It was like someone snuck in the house and swapped a new dog for Maggie.
I reflected on the remarkable difference later that day. Before I found this solution, Maggie fought for control, a force I struggled to contain. With the Gentle Leader she quickly submitted to me being the leader of our little pack. She was more relaxed, happier, and a lot more fun to be with on our daily journey.
Of course, there was a lesson in this for me, too. God’s sense of timing of these little lessons can be amusing or irritating to me. This time it was irritating. I had been in a period of fighting for control in my own journey with Jesus. Sure, I wanted to walk with Him. Yet in my heart I reserved the right to pull, divert, and take control when I felt insecure that God was really in control and questioning if He understood what I was going through. That admission looks worse in print than it sounded in my mind.
Jesus talks about how we limit our ability to have peace when we don’t allow Him to provide us with strength. He didn’t mention a harness, but a yoke, and that His yoke is “easy.”
Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”
Matthew 11:28-30
We don’t have to ride the roller coaster of life more than a couple of times to know that this journey is not “easy.” I thought about losses I have suffered in my life and some of the struggles that I am dealing with today. I was puzzled. What did Jesus mean by that statement, “My yoke is easy”? Clearly, the burdens of life are heavy. There is nothing easy about heartache, pain, and loss.
I reread Jesus’ inviting words: “Come to me.” No one needs to go through life’s difficulties alone, but the truth is that Jesus will not force Himself on you. You have permission to come to Jesus whenever you are ready.
In Jesus’ day, oxen were harnessed together with a wooden yoke, a beam that fit over the animals’ shoulders to keep them moving together in one direction. The oxen shared the effort to accomplish the task. That idea fit quite well into my performance-driven faith. Of course Jesus is with me, but I decided that I had to pull my weight. The only problem with my view was that it was unbiblical and even dangerous.
In this passage Jesus is not speaking of physical burdens. The truth is that Jesus was talking about the yoke of the Torah, the yoke of the law of Moses, which his Jewish listeners would have known well. The Old Testament yoke represented submission to authority. The Jews knew that the law was impossible to keep, but they kept trying. Jesus was offering them His yoke of grace. Compared to the impossible standards of the Pharisees and the law, His way was easy. Agreed.
Jesus makes another important offer. “Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart.”
For years, I strained to pull my weight by dogged (pardon the pun) effort, while Jesus quietly offered a better way. I don’t have to figure this out to be loved by Jesus. I just need to be available.
“Let me teach you.”
I wore myself out trying to do more to please Him, even as He whispered, “I am humble and gentle at heart. Your trust and faith pleases Me, not your joyless self-efforts to be better.”
Members of that agrarian culture of Jesus’ time would have known that you train a young ox by pairing it with an experienced ox. The mature ox would carry the bulk of the burden as the younger one walked by its side and learned. Author Jim Botts relayed the strategy of a wise farmer.
Well you see, it’s like this. That older ox is the best ox that I have ever had; he knows his way around the field. The reason I put the younger one with him is so the older, more knowledgeable ox could teach him how to plow. If I never put them together the younger one would never learn. By himself the younger ox would pull himself to death, but together he learns to cooperate with and rest in the strength of the older ox.
That is a beautiful image. Jesus walking alongside me, but carrying the bulk of the burden (if not all of it) as I learn from Him. I don’t need to strain myself in an attempt to shoulder everything on my own; Jesus wants me to be willing to gently submit to His strength and not rely solely on mine. He is extending an offer to those who are exhausted, emotionally drained, and buckling under what life brings. Pain and loss are a given in this life, but it is comforting to know that I can find rest for my weary soul, even as I grieve and doubt and waver. When I am exhausted, I can take time and seek respite in Him.
Too many faith communities have gotten this wrong. Pastor Tullian Tchividjian summarizes the struggle powerfully. “Jesus didn’t say, ‘Come to me all who are weary and I will give you a to-do list to keep me loving you.’ He said ‘I will give you rest.’”Jesus never intended for us to carry around long to-do lists. As we struggle mightily to try to earn what we already have, He must look upon us sorrowfully, knowing how much He can help.
“My yoke is easy.” Yokes were custom fitted to each individual ox. If the fit was incorrect, the yoke would rub and hurt the ox making the animal reluctant to keep going. If the yoke was perfectly fitted, it was easy for the ox to endure. A master carpenter would find the right ratio of strength and weight, whittling the yoke down to do its job, which meant the ox was able to work longer without tiring. The same is true for all of you, Jesus says. I will “fit” each one of you perfectly with the yoke that you can bear and no more.
When I finally stopped trying to do all the work in order to feel accepted by Christ, no longer restrained by the harness of legalism and relaxed in the “gentle leading” of grace, I was free to be fully alive in Christ.
Jesus wants you to don His yoke. Trust Him. Have faith. He has done the heavy lifting already. Rest in Him. Learn how to be humble and gentle in spirit. Quit trying so dadgum (that may not be in the Greek) hard and serve out of grateful love. Jesus tells us when we believe those truths, our burdens are light. The walk with Him is easy and natural.
I think of that as I watch Maggie romp excitedly around the house after seeing me get my walking shoes and headset. She is eager and joyful on our morning walks now that she knows I am going to lead.
She can relax and take in everything around her because she realizes that she doesn’t need to be in control. Point taken. Thanks girl.
It was a sports director’s dream moment. The Rangers had a few “walk-off” wins last season, scoring the winning run in the last at bat at home. When a game is over, both teams walk off the field but with very different body languages.
In this particular game against the Los Angeles Angels, we were all tied up in the bottom of the ninth with two outs on the board. Rangers’ catcher Geovany Soto was at the plate. I was with my crew in a portable television studio built into a truck trailer. The TV truck features dozens of monitors filled with camera shots, graphics, and replay sources. I orchestrate the broadcast from my seat in front of a huge bank of camera monitors, communicating by headset to camera operators what to do next. I select a shot from the monitors in front of me, and the technical director pushes a button that puts it “on the air,” instantaneously sending it into your home. When the action is fast and furious, it all seems chaotic, but each person has his or her assignment and it all comes together in a frenzied symphony of teamwork.
I scan the monitors, focusing on Soto’s intense concentration. The Angels’ closer is trying to send a tie game into extra innings. The Ranger players are hanging on the dugout rail, hoping that Soto will come through. The count goes full. Two outs. And then it happens. The ball is driven deep to left field. The Ranger players start to jump up and down as the ball heads toward the stands, then leaves the park. Pandemonium ensues inside the park, and my production crew explodes in excitement too. But we have a job to do to bring the images home to our fans.
Ranger players Elvis Andrus and Adrian Beltre and others leap the rail and sprint toward home plate to greet the hero of the moment. Soto rounds third, flips his helmet in the air with joy, and sprints toward a throng of teammates encircling home plate. They are smiling and waiting anxiously for Soto to get “home” so they can celebrate. As he nears home plate, Soto makes a gigantic leap and disappears into the dogpile of teammates. What a picture. That is the drama of sports. Even the apostle Paul used sports as an analogy for spiritual things.
“ I do everything to spread the Good News and share in its blessings. Don’t you realize that in a race everyone runs, but only one person gets the prize? So run to win! All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away, but we do it for an eternal prize.” 1 Corinthians 9:23-25
I reflected on that passage and the thrilling finish of that Rangers-Angels game. As electrifying as it was, that victory is nothing compared to holding the eternal prize that will not fade away when I finish this earthly race. I began to imagine my heavenly homecoming and how it might resemble that “walk-off” moment. I saw myself rounding third and heading toward all of the loved ones who had gone ahead, the joy of their faces compelling me to run faster. I jumped into a dogpile of dear friends and family who had shared my journey. When I finally emerged from the ecstatic group, I saw Jesus. He hugged me warmly. I was safe at home.
