“You can please some of the people all of the time, you can
please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the
people all of the time.”
Though
we often attribute that quote to Abraham Lincoln, he actually adapted it from an
earlier writer named John Lydgate.
Lydgate was a 15th century English monk and a prolific poet,
turning out over 145,000 lines of verse over the course of his lifetime.
Now,
that fact is just a bit of historical trivia.
However, in those words he wrote is nestled an age-old truth. Both Lydgate and Lincoln were right. No matter how hard you try, you cannot please
all of the people all of the time.
One
of your children will forever dispute your parenting skills – particularly when
he or she reaches the ripe old age of 13 or so.
Someone will always find the sermon boring or will dislike one or more
of the hymns. At least one family member
will announce fault in the dinner menu and wonder aloud why you have to serve pasta
– again. Donald Trump will continue to
be a divisive political figure, and Congress will be hard pressed to put
together a health care bill that everyone raves about.
Just
as polarization seems to be one of our cultural norms, so it was for Jesus as
well. He also found himself in no-win
situations, and his frustration over the latest one was apparent in the rant
that began today’s Scripture passage. I
can just imagine Jesus throwing up his arms in disgust and lashing out at
whoever might be listening.
“How can I account for this generation? You people are like spoiled
children, a bunch of whiners: We played a merry tin whistle for you, and you
would not dance. We sang a maudlin
funeral dirge, and you would not mourn.
What gives with all of you?”
First there was
John the Baptist, Jesus goes on to say, and people called him crazy. He was too austere, what with the fasting
coupled with his sackcloth and ashes approach.
And noshing on those locusts – even mixed with sweet wild honey?
Ick! And besides, he yelled too
much: “Repent! Repent, you brood of vipers!”
“Who wants to
be labeled a snake and cow tow to a religion like that?” you asked. “I would rather play golf.”
Be honest now! (Jesus
says.) All of you reacted to John the Baptist with these unspoken words: “Dude,
lighten up a bit.” So – you pushed John
aside. Too much of the Chicken
Little/the sky is falling mentality for your liking.
Jesus was on a
roll now, so he continued. “And then I
came, and you label me a glutton and a drunkard because I eat with the wrong
sort of people and have been known to change water into wine. I befriended tax collectors, whores, and
miscellaneous minor sinners not unlike yourselves, and you label me a supporter
of the riffraff – so far beneath you.
Just because I
enjoy a good feast every now and then, you figure, well, if Jesus does not take
this religion stuff seriously, then neither will we. See – it is all settled. I am off to play golf.
There you have
it. Both John the Baptist and Jesus were
regarded as irrelevant in their day and time. But isn’t that how it always works?
There is always an excuse. “You can please some of the people all of the time, you can
please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the
people all of the time.”
That
being said, as your pastor, I think this first part of our Scripture passage
raises a couple of important questions for all of you sitting here in
church. In the week ahead, I challenge
you to ponder the following:
What
will motivate you to ever more readily interact with God, engage with
the kingdom, and deepen your spiritual life?
What
will inspire you to make this church a priority in your busy life?
What
will motivate you to come to worship more consistently, learn from each
other more intentionally, and participate more actively in the ministries of our
church?
What
will it take to move you from the inertia of doing only what you are
doing now to the satisfaction of doing more in the name of Christ?
One
blogger I read this week summarized modern-day church commitment: “It's that
people don't want to be tied down on Sunday, "It's the one day of the week
I have to myself." Or, “it cuts into family time”. Or, "I'm not a bad
person, why do I have to be told I'm a sinner?"
(He went on to say:) To those who say it's the only day of the week you have to yourself, I would respond, "Everything you do during the week is ultimately for yourself." To those who say it cuts into family time, I would argue that this -- church -- has the potential of becoming an extended family capable of more support than you can imagine. And to those who don't think they're bad people, well, nobody is perfect.
(Other) people claim that church is too boring or they can worship God just as well while hiking or fishing or hunting. Or they want to know what they will get out of it, as if church were there simply to meet their needs.
To those who say church is boring, I remind them that church isn't there for our entertainment. To those who claim they can worship God on their own, I say, "You're right, but what are you learning? How are you living into the community of God's kingdom?" And to those who ask, "What am I getting out of it?" I ask in return, "What are you putting into it?"
(He went on to say:) To those who say it's the only day of the week you have to yourself, I would respond, "Everything you do during the week is ultimately for yourself." To those who say it cuts into family time, I would argue that this -- church -- has the potential of becoming an extended family capable of more support than you can imagine. And to those who don't think they're bad people, well, nobody is perfect.
(Other) people claim that church is too boring or they can worship God just as well while hiking or fishing or hunting. Or they want to know what they will get out of it, as if church were there simply to meet their needs.
To those who say church is boring, I remind them that church isn't there for our entertainment. To those who claim they can worship God on their own, I say, "You're right, but what are you learning? How are you living into the community of God's kingdom?" And to those who ask, "What am I getting out of it?" I ask in return, "What are you putting into it?"
Our
blogger is saying that the message of Jesus, which, of course, lies at the root
of who we are as a church, is not about us - and our needs, but it is rather about
them – and their needs. The Good News of
Jesus is to be discovered nestled somewhere in our feeding the hungry, clothing
the naked, healing the sick, welcoming the outcast, and raising up the
lowly.
“Oh,
no, there she goes again,” you might sigh and whisper. “Why do we have to have a pastor who always seems
to come round to talking about and challenging us to take action, to be part of
the mission and outreach of this church, in short, to do something? When do we get to rest?”
And
so we come to the second part of our Scripture reading. Jesus speaks it almost
like a prayer, but it is really an invitation.
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away
with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest.
Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of
grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me
and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
“Come
to me, all you who are labor and are heavy-laden, 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.”
To those laboring under harsh political
systems and narrow religious structures, Jesus says, “Come to me, and I will
give you rest.”
To those burdened by attempting to be a
good parent under especially trying circumstances, Jesus says, “Come to me, and
I will give you rest.”
To those caught in marriages that are
disintegrating and relationships that are falling apart, Jesus says, “Come to
me, and I will give you rest.”
To those so stressed out by caring for
others whose health is failing or whose own health is wearing them down, Jesus
says, “Come to me, and I will give you rest.”
To those in any kind of need that is
hindering their ability to work for the kingdom, to live compassionately, to
seek justice, and to be a peacemaker, Jesus says, “Come to me, and I will give
you rest.”
Discipleship is not easy – whether it
is practiced in our own families with a trying teenager or an aging parent, or
practiced locally in our town, or even globally. Jesus never said that being one of his
followers would be a Sunday School picnic.
He never intimated that his would be the easy path. Certainly we do need rest.
That being said, Jesus might have
abandoned us at this critical and uncomfortable juncture. He might have just
said, “You’re on your own, dude.” But instead,
he reminded us that we would never be alone when we are trying to be his
followers. “Come to me, and I will give
you rest.”
Now, before you stop listening and
figure that you have found a loophole (perhaps one you have been searching for),
understand that, in this passage, Jesus is not saying that our burdens and
problems will be taken away. Much as we
might long for such an easy solution, he will not be shouldering them all
himself, so we do not have to.
That is why the image of the yoke is so
fitting. As you know, a yoke is a farm
tool that is put across the neck or shoulders of two or more oxen or
horses. It allows them to pull heavy
equipment that they could not pull nearly as efficiently as individual
animals. Yoked animals inevitably are
able to work together, increasing their strength and effectiveness.
And so it is with us and with
Jesus. He does not take away our burdens
and problems. The harsh political
systems and narrow religious structures will not disappear. The trying circumstances of parenting will
not go away. The marriage or
relationship will not be miraculously saved.
Caring for the health of others and our own health will not suddenly be
a piece of cake.
However, we will not be doing the
caring and enduring and working and changing alone – and that should be both
comforting and energizing. It is like
familiar story by Mary Stevenson:
One night I dreamed I was walking along
the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In
each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of
footprints, other times there was one only.
This bothered me because I noticed that
during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or
defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord, “You
promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed
that during the most trying periods of my life there has only been one set of
footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there
for me?”
The Lord replied, “The years when you
have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”
Jesus promises us rest when we find
rest in him. And when we rest in him, he promises that we can learn from him because
to rest in him is to be yoked with him. And when we are yoked with him, we will
learn of compassion, learn of forgiveness, and learn of love – and it is
amazing how learning and practicing those things alone will ease the burdens we
carry.
And when we rest with him, we will find
wisdom. When we rest with him, we will
find that we are yoked (or connected) to the one through whom God’s dream of
mercy and grace is being made real.
When we rest with him, we will find
hope where once there was no hope, strength where once we were bone-tired,
courage where once we feared only for the worst.
We will discover a
fullness where once we only felt emptiness coupled with a gnawing hunger for
something that is missing. And in that
hope, in that strength, in that courage, in that fullness, we will find that,
with him, once again we can work for the Kingdom, for the dream, for the vision
of the world God intended – in our families, in our communities, in our world.
Personally I find the message of
resting in Jesus a lot more to my liking than a bunch of religious rules and
regulations – someone telling me what I have to believe. As your pastor, that is how I hope I lead you
in this congregation. I hope is that
together we are creating a community of faith that, as our blogger wrote, is “driven by the understanding
that we are yoked to the one who danced; which, again, although restful and
light, is still a yoke….(and so) we are required to think about the Other” and
the least of these – even as we find our rest in him.
However, I remember what John Lydgate
and Abraham Lincoln both said, “You can please some of the people all of the time, you can
please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the
people all of the time.” And so there will be people who will not be comfortable with
the path this community of faith has chosen to walk. We will not be what they are looking for in a
church. And so they will go to other
churches – or decide to play golf.
But you are
here, and your presence is a blessing. You are not playing golf, and you are enough.
So come and rest if you need to. Come
and gather strength and courage for whatever lies ahead. Come and figure out just why you set foot
here this morning – and go tell someone your reason – so they can find the rest
and strength and courage they will need to help make God’s dream come true.
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