Traveling Light
Matthew 11:28-30; Galatians 5:22-23
One of the indelible images that I have of Malawi, in East Africa, is of sturdy women carrying large jugs of water on their heads for great distances. Over 1 billion people have no access to clean water, so all too often, clean water is a luxury. One group of girls told us that they must walk 2-1/2 miles each way, twice a day, to secure their family’s water. They spend 4 hours a day, 3 of the hours carrying over fifty pounds, providing this life-giving necessity. This task, plus household chores, leave them without the time or energy to go to school.
What a burden! These Malawian women carry a physical burden, but also the burden of futures forever narrowed! And what a burden for the community, being deprived of a potential doctor or nurse, teacher or engineer!
All of us, of course, carry burdens. Regrets and guilt can be a burden. We may still mourn an opportunity missed, a lapse in judgment, a marriage that did not work, a DUI, or a family conflict. And there is much truth to the statement, “We’re more likely to regret what we did not do, rather than what we did do.”
I still regret not becoming an Eagle Scout. Our troop dissolved, so I was working on my own. I completed enough merit badges, my service hours and my project. All that remained was one requirement – Nature Merit Badge. Four months before I turn 18, I go to the counselor and he tells me, “Nature Merit Badge is only offered at summer camp.” Now it’s September. I go to the district and I’m told, “There’s nothing we can do.” I felt blindsided, and I confess that I still hate the words, “There’s nothing we can do.”
We carry the burden of guilt and regrets, and the burden of temptations and sins. We may struggle with an addiction, which requires all of our prayer and will power and the help of AA and friends to keep us on the straight and narrow. We know first-hand the statement, “Opportunity knocks, but temptation leans on the doorbell.” Jack Benny used to say, “I can resist anything except temptation.”
Living in a way that departs from God’s intention for us is exhausting. A woman recently wrote to Dr. Abby, “Dear Abby, I was angry at my husband and went out and had an affair. I realize now that I should have confronted the issues we were facing, but I did not. I feel miserable. What should I do?” Can you feel the weight and gravity of her actions pressing upon her? What a heavy burden!
We carry the burden of worry and anxiety. We worry about our children
and grandchildren, no matter what their age. We’re as happy as our saddest child! We worry about staying independent, about maintaining our health, about the latest crisis at work, and about where our state or our nation is headed. The events of Paris, San Bernardino and Brussels made us realize our vulnerability to the misguided, the deranged, and the jihadist.
The sensationalism of the daily news cycle doesn’t help. Crises sell! So a storm isn’t just a storm, it’s presented as the storm of the century. We cover the 200 demonstrators, but not the 200,000 who chose not to demonstrate. And seldom do we hear of the noble, the truthful, the sacrificial and the kind, traits that are in evidence every single day.
We carry the burden of loss. Judith Voirst wrote a book called Necessary Losses, describing the inevitable losses that life brings – the loss of a loved one, the loss of cherished hopes and dreams, the loss of a relationship, the loss of health and perhaps our freedom and independence.
And I think of one more, more subtle burden – the burden of expectation. Living in a consumer culture, we’re constantly told that what we have isn’t sufficient. A friend told me of debating between a 52’ and 60” flat-screen TV. That makes our 39” flat-screen sound, well, prehistoric.
Our burdens are many. Not necessarily as obvious as the burdens carried by Malawian women, but burdens none-the-less. But Jesus speaks to all of us as we struggle to shoulder our burdens. Let’s listen:
Matthew 11:28-30
Our text contains a gracious invitation, “Come unto me, all you who labor and are heaven-burdened.” Jesus offers no disparagement, no condemnation or criticism, no sense of “Why did you get yourself into this mess?” He simply says, “Come, just as you are!”
And we can come to Jesus, our personal Savior and Lord – our strength, our hope, and indwelling presence offering calm, perspective, peace, guidance, spiritual energy, and rest.
The images here, when Jesus says, “Come unto me all you who labor and are heavy-burdened,” are of a manual-laborer at the end of the day, with muscles cramping, sweat-stained and exhausted. Or Jesus speaks of a boat, so loaded with cargo that it is on the verge of capsizing, ready to simply sink below the waters. We can reach those points.
Teddy Roosevelt, while working at the state assembly in Albany, NY on February 13th, 1881, received word that his beloved mother was sick with typhoid fever. Rushing to a train, it inches back to New York City, because it is engulfed in fog. Finally reaching home, he cradles his mother as she slips away at age 49. Then unbelievably, his cherished wife, Alice, having just given birth, dies eleven hours later! Roosevelt’s diary contained the one sentence any of us would write, “The light has gone out of my life.”
But we’re invited, no, make that summoned, to bring our burdens to Jesus.
We can bring him to burden of our sins and regrets, trusting in His forgiveness, and receiving the energy of a fresh start. “If we say we are without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us, but as we confess our sin, God is gracious and will forgive us our sin and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
The Apostle Paul, in a letter written from prison, when he faces the very real danger of torture or even death, when he is cut off from contact with his struggling churches, when his present-day means being chained in a basement and his future is filled with uncertainty, gives us a strategy for coping with our fears and anxieties, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, with prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God, and the peace of God, which transcends understanding will guard your heart and your mind in Christ Jesus.” When we feel like our ship is sinking, we hand Jesus the cargo, our burdens, one by one, until the load is lightened.
Jesus can handle the burden of loss. When we so deeply grieve the loss of a loved one that we physically ache, only one assurance lightens our load – that of John’s promise of a future reunion in heaven, where “There will be no more death, or mourning or crying or pain, for that old order of things has passed away.” In a sense, the loss of each loved one prepares us for our own deaths, when we will join the church eternal and triumphant, and be united with our loved ones once more.
And Jesus reminds us over and over that the material does not offer us ultimate meaning. Our treasure is in heaven, and our earthly treasure is our family and friends, a crimson sunset, a shared experience, helping one another. In his profound analysis of modern culture: Between Two Ages: The 21st Century and the Crisis of Meaning, William Van Dusen Wishard reminds us of how far we have come.
In 1900, life-expectancy was 49; infant mortality was 122 out of 1000 live births, over 12 percent. Our nation had 144 miles of paved roads for 13,842 registered automobiles. The average person earned $500/year; most jobs required working 10 hours a day, six days a week, and most Americans could not eat meat more than once a week. Yet are we happier today? Wishard comments,
The dizzying pace of our lives, the increasing demands of the work-
place, the nomadic career paths that lead us to place after place, the new technologies that keep us in constant touch conspire to turn us into T. S. Eliot’s “hollow men.” We possess all the superficial accoutrements of success, but have no inner life. We inherit the earth, but lose our souls.
So we seek meaning in our relationship with Christ, in friendships, in loving service, in using our gifts to make a difference. But let me add one more piece to this reflection. I entitled this sermon “traveling light.” To travel light, we must let
go of our burdens. But aren’t there things that are necessary to carry with us as we make our journey? If you want to hike the Appalachian Trail, you need to be prepared. You need a tent, a sleeping bag, dried food, sturdy hiking shoes, rain gear, chlorine tablets, insect repellant, sun screen, maps, and on and on. Goggle gives you a list of 73 possible items, including . . . toilet paper.
What should we carry with us on the journey of life? How’s this for a list: “The fruit of the Holy Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control.” We Presbyterians believe that the Holy Spirit is given to every Christian, without exception, because Scripture teaches that no one can confess Jesus Christ as Lord except by the power of the Spirit.
We believe that the Holy Spirit gives each of us spiritual gifts, abilities that build up the Body of Christ and which enable us to serve. To one person the Spirit gives the gift of faith, to another the gift of encouragement, to another the gift of preaching or teaching, to another craftsmanship, to another leadership, to another music, to another mercy and to another prayer. No one has all the gifts, so we need one another.
The Holy Spirit gives us spiritual gifts, endowments of the Spirit, which supernaturally enable the church to serve. And the Spirit enables us to bear spiritual fruit, which is the mark of Christ-like character. Notice: fruit is singular because love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control are all traits of the one and only Spirit of God.
I like the way the Orthodox Church speaks of the Spirit. Western Christianity tends to speak of “receiving” the Holy Spirit, as though the Spirit is outside of us. The Orthodox Church speaks of “releasing” the Spirit through prayer, love, service and ministry because the Spirit resides within us.
Some years ago I heard a lecture by noted atheist Christopher Hitchings. He was brilliant, acerbic, bombastic, and sarcastic, clear in his dismissal of anyone dumb enough to profess faith in a higher power, let alone the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, or the Triune God. But as he spoke I suddenly realized: he had no joy, no wonder, no gentleness or seeming kindness. Certainly he had no faith. And rather than being impressed, I was saddened. For he had no idea what he was missing!
On life’s journey, we’re handed many burdens, which weigh us down. But let us not try to carry them alone. Let’s give Jesus our sins and regrets, trusting in His forgiveness. Let’s give Jesus the sting of loss, asking for peace. Let’s give Him in prayer our anxieties and fears. And let’s give Him our insatiable desire for more, heeding instead the words of the Psalmist, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” As we lay down those burdens, let us pick up those things that will actually lighten our load and bless those around us – love and joy, peace and patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control. Then our journey will be fulfilling indeed! Thanks be to God! Amen.
Arcola Presbyterian Church 