Who Carries What? Matthew 11:28-30

“Who Carries What?
Matthew 11:28-30

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

“The things they carried were largely determined by necessity. Among the necessities or near-necessities were P-38 can openers, pocket knives, heat tabs, wristwatches, dog tags, mosquito repellent, chewing gum, candy, cigarettes, salt tablets, packets of Kool-Aid, lighters, matches, sewing kits, Military Payment Certificates, C rations, and two or three canteens of water. Together, these items weighed between 15 and 20 pounds, depending upon a man's habits or rate of metabolism.”

That is the second paragraph of Tim O’Brien’s book THE THINGS THEY CARRIED, his novel about being a soldier in the Vietnam war. Through the first chapter, he describes – in great and sometimes graphic detail – the things the soldiers carried with them into combat.

What do you carry? You carry the struggle of the words said last night over dinner. You carry the loss of the night she packed her bags and left. You carry the pain of your teenager slamming a door while screaming “I hate you” four, five, six times. You carry the hurt of knowing that you were wrong when you insisted to your spouse that this is the way it was going to be and that’s just too bad. You carry the sting knowing that there are some things you can’t simply fix with a hug and a kiss goodnight. You carry the shame of feeling that you’re never a good enough person and that you constantly let people down. In short, you carry the guilty weight of your sins you have committed against your family and your brothers and sisters in Christ, and you carry the shameful sting of the sins that have been committed against you by your family and your brothers and sisters in Christ.

What do you carry? Joy? Sorrow? Anger? Excitement? Frustration? What do you do with those things?

Here’s what most strong-willed and stiff-necked Christians try to do each Sunday:

With a groan and a sigh, you got up this morning and you hefted the burdens that you carry – unseen by everyone except yourself; boy do you ever feel it, too – and you squeezed yourself into the car along with a full load of guilt and shame and angst and sorrow and pain and you pulled into the parking lot here at Zion. You got out of your car, or truck, or SUV and, just like you do with your grocery trip from HEB where you see how many bags you can grab in each hand before the circulation stops to the fingers, you pull out your load from the car. Burdened and encumbered, loaded and laden with the guilt and shame and angst and sorrow and pain, you stagger from your car or truck or SUV and walk into the house of the Lord. And, for a moment, teetering as on the edge of a precipice, you wonder if you’ll make it. Yet, as you enter, step by step you drop your burdens one at a time. Guilt, shame, angst, sorrow, pain…one by one, they fall; step by step you stand a bit more upright and you walk a little straighter. “I can do it!” you say, and with just a little pep talk, you make it inside thinking that for an hour, you can sit and breathe and rest.

But then something strange happens. Someone is sitting in *your* pew and frustration simmers up. Then you see her over there --- she stole your momma’s peach pie recipe ten years ago and won the pie contest with it. Then you see him over there --- he borrowed your mower last summer and bent the blade and, when you confronted him, pretended to know nothing about it. And there is your secret crush but they never gave you the time of day, laughing about your clothes or hair instead. Suddenly, the the benediction is said, and the hymn is sung, and you are released from your pew, you start to feel weight climbing back into your hands – uninvited, yet somehow strangely welcome, the burden increases. Step by step, the guilt and shame and angst and sorrow and pain finds its place in your pockets and purses and wallets and keyrings and, staggering once again under the full weight, you wonder how you’ll make it again through another week until this sweet hour of prayer.

Have you made such a journey before? Where the burden is so heavy that it threatens to crush you? Where the yoke of “I can do it myself” threatens to beat you down? Where no matter how much you set down it seems that the burden doubles the next time? Where the effort is so damning – and I use that word deliberately in this context – because it seems you can never find escape? If so, then please…listen to Jesus.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me that I am gentle and kind, lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

He is speaking to His people of all ages – not just the disciples of 2000 years ago in Ancient Israel. He continues to speak these words to the disciples of Mission Valley and the surrounding community in the year 2017. He is speaking to you. He speaks to people who are burned up and burned out from the weight of living in this world of hardship and harshness, and I don’t mean the climate and the geography. I mean the hard reality of living in a fallen world with illness and family conflict and divorce and leaving friends and leaving home and death. All around us, pop culture and conventional wisdom tells us to suck it up and cowboy up and grab it by the horns and wrassle it to the ground and show it who’s boss…

But Jesus? He doesn’t say we have to do anything. Instead, He extends His nail-pierced hands in invitation: “Come.” It’s not a command, something you gotta do. It’s an invitation, a Gospel-gift where He calls, gathers, enlightens and sanctifies us by His Spirit and welcomes us into His presence. He sees, knows, and understands all too well just how heavily we struggle – remember, He is true God and also true man so He can know and understand our struggles. He knows we are weak both in faith and in heart, laboring in the world and in faith, wondering how we will make it another day. “Come,” Jesus says, “all of you who labor  - the KJV says “weak” - and are heavy laden. I will give you rest.”

Ah…blessed rest. Another passive gift. Not “you better figure out a way to get some rest.” No, this is Jesus. “I will give you rest where you do not have to work for I have done it all,” Jesus says. Rest, peacefully, in those same nail-pierced hands. Rest, wrapped in the arms that stretched out upon the cross to take all of your guilt and shame and anger and pain into Himself so you do not have to carry the eternal burden of these sins. Rest, as His eyes look upon you in kindness and gentleness and mercy, filled with love that let Him take your place in suffering the Father’s wrath for you. Rest your very soul, for His soul, anguished to the point of death, suffered so you will not suffer so.

Where can we find such rest? You know the answer for that question…it’s here in the Lord’s House. Christ is truly present where His Word is preached in purity and where His Sacraments are administered according to His Word and promise, our confessions say. Come to me, Jesus says, come to my house of rest with all of your burdens. Come, deposit them here…

That sounds so easy, Pastor, but how is it supposed to work? I keep trying byt the load just seems to come back? What am I supposed to do?

This is the gift of repentance. Repentance isn’t a quantity – you gotta be REALLY REALLY sorry to be forgiven. Repentance is simply sorrow that I have sinned against God and I admit it and confess it. God, have mercy on me a sinner. But true repentance doesn’t stop there. If that’s all it was, it would just be sadness. Repentance also looks to the cross of Jesus and believes that there, He died for you. Repentance believes Jesus forgives you.

Do you know what Jesus wants from you? Some people say He wants your heart or your life or your love or your good works or your something or another. Wrong. The only thing Jesus wants from you is your sins. Remember: His very name means Savior, for He has come to save His people from THEIR SINS. So, give them to him. Drop your guilt as you enter into this holy house. Drop your shame as you sit in His presence with your brothers and sisters in Christ who, I might add, are dropping their burdens as well. It’s called confession. When you confess your sins, drop your angst and your sorrow and whatever other burden you have. Drop the load at the foot of the Cross. And, this time, leave it there.

What you discover is that when you give your sins to Jesus and refuse to allow satan to trick you into picking them up again…with a few new ones on the way…is you are now carrying the remarkably light yoke of Jesus and His mercy instead of the damning – again, using that deliberately – idea that you gotta do it yourself.

The yoke of Jesus is simply this: that your Savior Jesus, gently and humbly went the sinner’s path to the cross and carried the entire burden for you. No matter what the devil, or the world, or your own redeemed-but-also-fallen conscience tells you, it is no longer yours. It is not yours to claim, or carry, or haul, or resolve. You have been redeemed, by grace through faith in Christ – not by the carrying of your sins. He’s done the heavy lifting. He’s done the heavy carrying. He’s done the heavy load of dying under the wrath of God at the cross. Jesus has already emptied out all of the sacks at the foot of that cross. Leave the burdens there.

And Jesus takes your empty sack and He fills them up with His gifts. He fills up a bag of mercy as the triune name of God is spoken in remembrance of your baptism. He fills up a bag of joy as your sins are absolved in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. He fills a bag of peace as you receive Christ’s true Body and Blood into your mouth, not only for the forgiveness of your sins but also for the strengthening of your faith. He fills a bag of grace as you depart with the Lord’s name spoken in blessing. With your bags filled with the gifts of God there isn’t room for the guilt and shame and angst and sorrow any longer. Besides…you left them at the cross --- remember? Don’t turn back.

Sometimes the burdens are so great that you find no matter how many times you drop them off at the foot of the cross, they somehow make their way back into your pocket or purse, wallet or keychain. There’s one other gift the Lord gives to help release a burden: your pastor. You are not alone as you wrestle with these burdens. It is a pastor’s privilege and call to walk with you through these weighty times. I’ll walk with you. That’s why you called me: to walk with you. And, armed with prayer and blessing, with the Lord’s Supper and Holy Absolution – and, by the way, if you missed it in my installation vows, whatever is confessed to me remains with me, unable to be shared with anyone including my wife – the Lord Jesus will be present for you, individually, one-on-one, and one-by-one He will take your burdens from you and replace each one with the yoke of His Gospel.

Lest anyone think that this means you carry Jesus – let me assure you, nothing is further from the truth. He carries you. For Him, you are not a trouble. For Him, you are not too heavy. Let Him carry you. Stop trying to carry all of your troubles. Drop them at the cross. Let Him fill your sack with His gifts. And then, with your sack refilled, He’ll carry you.