Today’s readings begin with a glorious, powerful pronouncement and end with a glorious, comforting invitation.  While different in tone, there are common threads to be found in both.  Both are callings – of Moses, in the dramatic setting of the burning bush; and of everyone, including us, in the gentle words of Jesus.  If you should ask why these callings occur, the answer in both cases would be, as I AM instructs Moses to tell the people of Israel:  I am concerned about you.

I have found solace in these wonderful verses from Matthew many times over the years.  As awesome as it must have been for Moses when he encountered God in the flames, the seemingly simple words of Matthew 11:28-30 may perhaps be even more awesome and humbling.  Our Lord and Savior cares when we are worn down by demands of our jobs, financial worries, or overscheduled lives; when daily stresses result in fitful, restless sleep; when constant responsibilities, anxieties, fears and dangers take a toll on mental and physical health.  The Good Shepherd wants, as Psalm 23 proclaims, to make us lie down in peaceful pastures and to restore our souls.  Whatever our circumstances, God loves each of us individually, is concerned for us, and wants good for us.

A few points have been clamoring for my attention.  First, I don’t have to wait until I am overwhelmed or exhausted before coming to Jesus seeking rest.  It can be tempting to think something akin to “I hate to bother Him with my little troubles.  Others have it worse than I do.”  However, the One who loves us does not expect or want us to run ourselves into the ground.  His invitation is also for those who are just a little bit weary.

It also can be tempting, when troubles weighing us down are of our own making, to wonder whether the invitation still is open to us.  (In our judgmental moods, we may ask that question about someone else.)  Jesus invited ALL to come, which means everyone.  The Prodigal Son, after rejecting his father before heading off for a life of debauchery, is welcome – as is the “good” but judgmental brother who remained at home.  And the invitation is always there, so we can return each time we stray.

I have been using the word “invitation,” but that may fail to highlight that Jesus’s “Come to me” is actually a command.  He did not say, “I am here if you need me.”  He declared “Come” and then followed it with a second command: “Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me.”  As we learn to be “meek and humble of heart,” the yoke keeps us close to Him, keeps us from straying off the path, keeps us doing His work. 

Photo of entrance, First-Plymouth Congregational Church (Lincoln, NE)