A legend tells how, at the beginning of time, God decided to hide his wisdom within creation. As God was wondering how best to do this, the angels gathered round him.
“I want to hide my wisdom in my creation,” God told them. “I need to find a place that is not too easily discovered, for it is in search for my wisdom that they will gain spirit.”
“Why don’t you hide your wisdom deep in the earth?” suggested one angel. God pondered this for a while, then replied, “No. It will not be long before they learn how to mine the earth and discover all the treasures it contains. They will discover wisdom too quickly, before they have had time to do their growing.”
“Why don’t you hide her on the moon?” asked a second angel. God thought about this idea for a while, and then replied, “No. It will take a little longer, but before too long they will learn how to fly through space. They will arrive on the moon and explore its secrets, and they will discover wisdom too soon, before they have enough time to do their growing.”
The angels were at a loss to know what hiding places to suggest. There was a long silence. Then finally, an angel piped up. “Why don’t you hide wisdom in their own hearts? They will never think of looking there!”
“That’s it!” exclaimed God, delighted to have found the perfect hiding place. And so it is that God hides wisdom secretly deep within the hearts of every oner of God’s creatures, until that creature has grown enough in spirit to risk the great journey into the secret core of its own being. And there, the creature discovers the wisdom of its creator and is rejoined to God for all eternity.
Our Gospel reading this morning finds Jesus experiencing rejection from the townsfolk where he had been exercising his ministry. Even John the Baptist, at the start of this chapter, had sent word asking if Jesus really was the Messiah that he had been expecting. Things did not appear to be going to plan. People were not happy either with John’s ascetic demands for reform and repentance, nor with Jesus’ celebratory and inclusive fellowship, which seemed to include those whom respectable people would not associate.
And in response, Jesus talks about wisdom. First he says “Wisdom is vindicated by her deeds”, a kind of “by their fruits you shall know them”. This may be perhaps a reproach against the Pharisees and others who ignored his deeds of power and healing to nitpick about whose company he was keeping. Their certainty about the way things ought to be done, the lifestyle one ought to live by, has blinded them to the surprising ways of God’s kingdom in their midst. By contrast, those who are able to take Jesus’ actions at face value, interpret them in their simplicity, are the ones to whom God has revealed himself. Wisdom is not so much “book smarts” as it is encounter with a person, the person Jesus, and recognition that in Him can be seen the true working of a God of infinite compassion.
To reinforce his self-description as the personification of Wisdom, Jesus draws on images from Old Testament and Deuterocanonical literature. The book of proverbs has Lady Wisdom inviting people to come and eat and drink of the feast she has provided, an invitation to set aside immaturity and live in insight. Near the end of book of Sirach, likely written a couple of centuries before Christ, Wisdom invites people to “Draw near and lodge in the house of instruction. Why do you say you are lacking in these things, and why do you endure such great thirst? …Put your neck under her yoke and let your souls receive instruction; it is to be found close by.”
For people labouring under the yoke of Roman oppression, for those whose work in an agrarian society involved considerable toil for little benefit, such words would have provided great reassurance. Jesus is not promising an end to labour or suffering, after all his yoke would eventually look like the cross beam of a crucifix, but rather divine participation and accompaniment in the suffering, bringing peace and clarity though it, enabling choices that alleviate the difficulty.
So what is it about Jesus’ yoke that makes it easy, his burden that makes it light? Perhaps the clue is in the previous verses- where Jesus suggests that his wisdom is hidden from the intelligent and powerful, and given to those who are as helpless as infants. For people who are outwardly successful, there can be a great temptation to rely not on God, but on their own talents and achievements. They miss God’s kingdom because they are too busy trying to achieve it- on their own terms.
Rather, for those who are like infants, who recognise their dependence on God, the call to discipleship is easier because their ego is not getting in the way. They are not deluded into thinking that they can achieve salvation through their own efforts but recognise that it is the gift of the God of unlimited generosity. Freed from trying to do things in their own strength, they are able to rely on God’s strength to become more fully the person God has called them to be. They are freed up to relax into the service to which God has called them, to pray and work for God’s values of limitless love and inclusion. They are invited to Wisdom’s banquet, where the least become the greatest and power is exercised through service – in the act of feeding one is fed.
The call to discipleship is both easy and difficult- difficult to overcome the desire to be in control of our own circumstances, our own lives, but as we are able to do so, discipleship becomes easier as our values and lives more closely align to the values of the God who loves us and all creation without condition, without limit. An easy yoke and a light burden indeed.