Zechariah 9:9-12; Psalm 145:8-15; Romans 7:15-25a; Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
Most of you who have known me know that I have THREE sons. The two older boys, Travis and Jacob, were Kim’s by a previous marriage, but I adopted them when she and I married.
Jacob, the younger of the two, was three years old when we married. Jacob had a best friend that lived just a few doors down, whose name was Adam James Cannon. Jake never referred to him any other way. It was always all three names: “my friend Adam James Cannon.”
Jake would often go to his friend’s house to play. One day Jake was over there playing. Something happened and there was a falling out. Jake came stomping back to our house.
Seriously, I never figured out how so much mad could fit into a body that small. At one point it bubbled out. He stopped in his tracks, turned around, and yelled toward his friend’s house, “I DON’T LIKE YOU ADAM JAMES CANNON AND I’M NOT GONNA PLAY WITH YOU FOR LOTS OF DAYS!!”
Nobody could be madder than 3-year-old Jake. And, of course, they were back playing together later in the day.
It seems that the disagreement was over how they would play. How their shared fantasy would play out. This kind of disagreement was not uncommon for Jake, who had both a vivid imagination, and a stubborn streak a mile wide.
At the beginning of today’s gospel Jesus compares his generation to children playing and calling to each other: “We played the flute for you but you did not dance. We wailed but you did not mourn.” What a weird thing to say! I have a feeling all the parents listening to him had no trouble connecting with what he was saying. But for those who might not get it right away, he went on, “For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’”.
My son Jake and his friend Adam? That’s the comparison Jesus was making. The people of his generation were saying to him – and to John the Baptist, “You’re not doing what WE want you to do!” Jesus was comparing his generation to whiny, self-centered children who were never satisfied.
John, and then Jesus just wouldn’t play nice with them.
John and Jesus wouldn’t live up to their expectations.
When people don’t live up to our expectations, we do not tend to be kind.
It is so easy to come up with reasons not to listen when someone has a message that we just don’t like. And the easiest excuse of all is to simply say the speaker has no standing, no authority to say what they are saying. That they are crazy. That they associate with the wrong people. It’s a logical fallacy called ad hominem. We attack the person to invalidate their message.
When someone says something we don’t like, we may say “Well, no wonder, they’re a Republican.” Or “They’re a Democrat.” I know I‘ve been guilty of this.
As they did to John the Baptist we can say “He has a demon!” or “They’re not Episcopalian” or even “They’re not a REAL Christian.” But there is something about living as followers of Christ that we just can’t avoid, and that is his command to deny ourselves, take up our crosses, and follow him.
It’s that “deny ourselves” part that we have problems with. Part of living as people who are crucified to the world is that we have to give things up, and some of those things we have to give up will likely be our cherished preconceived notions. Notions of who is right and wrong in God’s eyes. Notions of who has value in God’s eyes (here’s a hint: it’s everybody). And it’s really difficult to act Christ-like when we are, at the same time, trying to live up to the world’s expectations of us, and judge people by the world’s standards. I might even say it is impossible.
Even St. Paul found that he was often of two minds, and fought against it. “I do not do the thing that I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” It is a difficult thing to go against years of conditioning by the world and instead pay attention to the will of God.
Later in today’s Gospel, Jesus says “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.” How can this be? How can denying ourselves and taking up our cross end up being a light burden?
It’s really amazing how giving up yourself – and giving up trying to live up to the expectations the world has trained you to believe in – can simplify your life, can remove a lot of the burden that you go through. That doesn’t mean that it’s easy, or that the world will understand. Some people may, but most probably won’t. In fact, you may even face the same things that John and Jesus faced: being told by friends or family that we are not living up to their standards. That we’re not Real True Christians. In fact, I met with that situation a few years ago, when I was one of the administrators for my Order’s Facebook page. One of our other admins posted a picture supporting Pride during June. It was Pride month, after all, and Episcopalians everywhere celebrated. But we received an email from someone — someone not even a member of the Order — demanding that the post be taken down. When it wasn’t he sent a message to the admins wanting to know how we could claim to preach the Gospel and at the same time support Pride. He didn’t seem to understand that — in the words of our Baptismal Covenant — supporting the dignity of every human being is preaching the Gospel.
The thing is, you eventually realize that being called out like that is OK, because you are no longer too concerned about what the world — or even some other Christians — think of you. We take our cues from a different source. We serve a different master.
Take my yoke, and learn. You’ll find rest.
Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me.
They seem contradictory, but they are all one. This is true life in Christ.
Forget the expectations of the world. May we all be ready — even eager — to be called names for Christ.
Amen.