Romans 7:15-25 Matthew 11:16-19,25-30
Some years ago, I began a search for Jesus pictures. I was interested in all the different ways Jesus is portrayed in art. There is quite a variety. Over the centuries you can see the ways cultural priorities have been reflected in the popular images of Jesus. In the early centuries of the church, there were some rather severe images: Judge-of-the-world Jesus and victorious-in-battle Jesus. But modern people seem to prefer a milder version: Gentle-shepherd Jesus and little-children-loving Jesus.
There are some that are less common but very arresting: like sad Jesus, looking on the state of the world with a tear on his face. One of my favorites is polite Jesus, knocking on our door, hoping we will answer. There is also laughing Jesus – which, for some reason, a lot of people don’t like, and I’ve never really understood why.
But one thing I have never seen is drunk Jesus. Or gluttonous Jesus. I have never seen Animal House Jesus. Ever.
Tell me the truth. Can you imagine Jesus holding a red solo cup at a party, drinking a beer with the tax collectors? Or at a pig roast, sitting back and loosening his belt a notch after chowing down on barbeque and all the fixings. Can you picture it? Even in wedding at Cana story, where Jesus saves the day by turning vats of water into wine, we kind of imagine him and Mary being the only sober ones at the party, don’t we?
Yet, apparently, this was a not uncommon criticism of him, that he was a drunk and a glutton – he heard it enough that it got him a little riled up and he snapped at them, like, is there no satisfying you people? John was criticized for being absolutely no fun at all, while Jesus was criticized for having too much fun. They can’t win for losing, as my mother used to say.
To what can I compare this generation, he asks? If someone comes playing the flute for you, you will not dance with them. Yet if someone comes wailing, you will not mourn with them. A bunch of critics, you are! whiners.
And so, I would suggest that what we have here is an image of Jesus just losing it with his people. Something else we really don’t see much of in religious art – irritable Jesus; the I’ve-got-one-nerve-left-and-you’re-standing-on-it Jesus. We don’t see much of that one in religious art. Although perhaps we should.
Although we don’t dwell on it, there were plenty of times Jesus was angry. Angry about injustice, angry about hypocrisy, angry about the obtuseness of his disciples, their slowness to catch on. Although we want nice Jesus, easy Jesus, what we have is a different kind of Jesus.
Because there never was a nice, easy Jesus. We have good Jesus, but that’s not the same as nice. We have gracious Jesus, but that’s not the same as easy. The problem here is that, as much as we like to imagine him as gentle and mild, Jesus has always challenged us. And it’s a problem, because who among us wants to be challenged? Does anybody feel like they need another challenge this year?
We have had more than enough challenge for now. We would like 2020 to be recalled. We are over it.
We are tired; we are frayed at the edges, wearing out from all the tensions we are living wh. Little problems cause us to snap at each other. Parents are thinking about re-homing their children (just kidding!). Loving couples are retreating to their separate corners and nursing their wounds. While those who live alone are thinking, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to be bicker with?
We are weary. And none of us really wants to be scolded for being too demanding and wanting what we cannot have. Nobody has the energy for that now.
Yes, it is a truth we cannot deny, that as the Apostle Paul says, sin dwells within us. Yes, it is a sad fact that, even when we know what is right, we find we cannot do it. All we can do, my friends, is pray for mercy.
Because we are tired, and weary, and troubled.
And then the gospel says to us, rest in that, beloved. Rest. In. That.
Rest in that sense of weariness, that helplessness, that I-hate-this-and-I-don’t-feel-like-being-strong-anymore, because dear one, that is who you are. Rest in it.
Infants, that is what you are, Jesus says – but in a kind way, a loving way. We are infants, and that is the good news.
Because those who believe they can solve all the problems on their own; those who excel at analyzing and criticizing; those who feel they have a leg up on all the others and look down on them – these are the ones who are passed over. For, as Jesus says to his followers, it was the gracious will of the Father that the lowly ones would be favored. The weak ones, the poor ones, those who do not presume they can do it for themselves; those who have no preconceptions about what their salvation should look like – the infants.
And this is good news, even in the context of everything that has been happening here. Because we would do well to remember that everything was happening then, too. If you have been paying attention the last few weeks, you know it. Jesus made it pretty clear it is not easy. Yet, even though, as Jesus told them, the way would be costly; even though all the beloved institutions would suffer and possibly even be broken; even though they would be asked to take up their cross and follow him; even in all that, there is this:
Your burden is heavy, but my burden is light. You are weary, but my yoke is easy. Follow me, learn from me, and find rest for your souls.
Yes, even though the way is difficult, and the price is high, God is gracious and gentle with those who follow Jesus.
All thanks be to God. Amen.
►Photo: Drawings of Jesus from a congregational worship project.
