This Sunday we hear one of the most consoling passages in all of Scripture. Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” I return to this Gospel again and again because it speaks to something every one of us knows: the weariness of life. Whether it is the pace of work here in the valley, the worry of caring for aging parents or young children, the ache of grief, or simply the exhaustion of trying to hold everything together, Jesus sees it all. And notice what he offers. He does not promise to take our burdens away. Instead, he invites us to bring them to him: “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and you will find rest for yourselves.”
To understand this invitation, we need to understand what a yoke is. A yoke is a wooden beam, carefully carved and fitted, that lays across the shoulders of two oxen and binds them together so they can pull a plow or a heavy load as one. A farmer would often pair a younger, inexperienced ox with a strong, seasoned one, and together they would share the workload. Neither animal carries the burden alone. That is the image Jesus gives us. He asks us to tie ourselves to him, to place his yoke upon our shoulders, and he promises that he will pull alongside us. The load of our lives does not disappear, but it is no longer ours alone to carry. It is a beautiful metaphor for how we come to know Christ: side by side, step by step, sharing the weight of the journey together.
I have seen this metaphor come alive most poignantly at the bedside of the dying. When I am called to anoint someone in their final days, I so often find the room filled with family and friends: holding a hand, whispering a prayer, simply being present. I tell them that they are the living Body of Christ in that room. In those sacred moments, Christ does not come to the dying person as an idea or a distant memory. He comes in the flesh and blood of the people gathered around the bed, sharing the heaviest burden a human being can carry. What is true at the bedside is true of our everyday lives as well. Christ shares our load through the people who walk beside us, and we become that presence for others.
But how do we tie ourselves to Christ in daily life? One of the surest ways, and you have heard me say this many times, is by truly learning how to pray. Real prayer is more than talking at God with our lists of needs. It is learning to listen intimately to Christ speaking in our hearts. That kind of listening takes practice, and it takes teaching, just as the young ox learns from the seasoned one.
That is why I want to warmly invite you to consider joining our Spiritual Exercises in Everyday Living (SEEL) program, which begins again this fall and the application process is now open till July 31. For the last two years this nine-month journey has transformed the lives of so many parishioners. Each day, participants learn different methods of prayer according to the way of St. Ignatius of Loyola, supported by spiritual direction and a community of fellow pilgrims. Sr. Gloria has been holding information sessions over the last two weeks, and there will be another few next week. If you have ever wanted to learn how to pray more deeply, how to listen and to recognize the voice of Christ in your ordinary day, this is your invitation. It is, in a very real way, a new way of putting on the yoke of Christ, of moving from being a disciple of Christ to becoming a friend of Christ.
This weekend we also have the great joy of welcoming our new Parochial Vicar, Fr. Gerald Nwafor, to St. Simon. He will be present at all the Masses this weekend, and I ask you to give him the warm welcome our community is known for. Please introduce yourself, say hello, and keep him in your prayers as he begins his ministry among us.
Finally, this weekend we celebrate the Fourth of July, and this year it carries special significance: the 250th anniversary of our nation. What a gift our country is! For two and a half centuries, this land has been a place where freedom of worship, freedom of speech, and the dignity of the human person have been enshrined and defended. Democracy is a precious and fragile treasure, handed down to us by our founding fathers and mothers at great cost, and it asks something of every generation. We must cherish it, thank God for it, and work together to keep our freedoms safe for those who come after us. I hope you can celebrate this weekend with family and friends, and that in the midst of the barbecues and fireworks you pause to recognize the great gift we have received.
And when you say a prayer for our nation, I ask you to widen that prayer to include all those who long to come to this land, whether for a short visit or to build a new life, that they too may come to enjoy and treasure what we enjoy and treasure. We are, after all, a nation of immigrants. So many of us, or our parents and grandparents, came from far away carrying little more than hope. Indeed, all three of your priests are immigrants: one from Vietnam, one from Ireland, and one from Nigeria. We came to this country as so many have come, and we are humbled to serve you and to serve one another. May God bless our nation, and may we always be a people of welcome.
Have a wonderful and safe Fourth of July weekend.
God Bless,
Fr. Brendan