Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
In this season of liturgical green, we continue to make our way through the middle portion of Matthew’s Gospel. This is Matthew’s year in our Eucharistic lectionary. For the last two weeks, we’ve been in the tenth chapter of Matthew, as Jesus spoke with his disciples about discipleship. Today we’ve moved in to Matthew 11. Today’s reading began at verse 16. But here’s how Matthew 11 begins: “Now when Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and proclaim his message in their cities.” He went on to teach and share his message in the nearby cities.
Today’s Gospel passage is problematic for scholars. It appears to be patched together from several sources and there is uncertainty about how much Jesus’ words may have been modified by the early community before they were recorded in Matthew.
But I came across an interesting take on the first part of today’s reading. It was a commentary written by a preacher. He hears frustration, maybe anger, in Jesus’ words and he sympathizes with Jesus’ feelings of frustration (http://thelisteninghermit.com/2011/06/28/troubled-change-to-yoke-light-ordinary-14a/; viewed July 5, 2014).
Jesus says: How do I get through to you people!!?? I tried offering you joy and you wouldn’t dance. So I tried joining you in grief, and you weren’t interested in that either. You just sit there.
Then Jesus articulates what could be God’s frustration: I sent John the Baptist, who was ascetic, abstaining from eating and drinking, and you criticized him as being possessed. So I sent the Son of Man who sat down with you, shared meals with the least of you, and you really laid into him, condemning him as a glutton and a drunkard.
There’s no pleasing you! There’s no getting through to you! I’ve tried everything and nothing seems to make any difference to you.
And then there are the deleted verses in this morning’s Gospel, the ones we skipped. Jesus’ anger really comes through there. He calls down woe upon those cities he has visited where he has done deeds of power, but they haven’t responded in any way. They’ve shown no repentance. Woe to you, Jesus says. It will be better for Sodom on the day of judgment than for you.
Then ultimately, seemingly calmed, Jesus pleads: Come to me. Learn from me. Learn. From. Me. That’s his plea, Jesus’ plea to the people to whom he speaks. Learn from me. Remember? He went out into the cities to teach. Learn from me.
Jesus’ plea compels us to ask ourselves, do we want to learn from Jesus.
Do you want to learn from Jesus? Really? It’s one thing to think of Jesus as a teacher. It’s one thing to have a passing interest in learning about Jesus. It’s another thing to learn from Jesus himself, to be an active and motivated learner at the feet of Jesus.
There are lots of people out there in the world and undoubtedly several folks here in the parish who know a lot more about education theory than I do. But it’s my sense, based on what I do know, that education theory used to be all about teaching… and various teaching methods. But now it’s about teaching AND learning. Teaching methods and learning styles. There’s a lot more emphasis now on active learning as part of the education process. Students are not just the recipients of teaching; they are learners.
Evidently, there is even a concept called “active learning.” This is from a University of Minnesota Center for Teaching and Learning website (http://www1.umn.edu/ohr/teachlearn/tutorials/active/what/, viewed July 5, 2014):
Defining ‘active learning’ is a bit problematic. The term means different thing to different people, while for some the very concept is redundant since it is impossible to learn anything passively.
It is impossible to learn anything passively.
It is impossible to learn anything passively. But that’s exactly how most of us approach learning from Jesus. That was exactly the source of Jesus’ apparent frustration in the beginning of today’s reading. And it is still the case. We’d like to learn, maybe, as long as it doesn’t cost us any effort.
I can’t help but note with some irony that the sermon, as a teaching tool, comes out of the old model of a teacher lecturing to a passive group of people. And historically, the church has encouraged a certain passivity among parishioners. All the congregation was asked to do was congregate. Surely, Jesus would be sad and frustrated.
I do wonder, how would you react if I asked you to be actively engaged, to participate, in this sermon learning opportunity?
In this morning’s passage, Jesus did encounter some folks who were a bit more active, but they were active only by deflecting any possibility of learning by criticizing the teachers. I can’t learn from John, he’s crazy; I can’t learn from Jesus, he’s a drunkard. One commentator I came across pointed out this tendency is often seen in the church… People criticize as a means to avoid or deflect participation.
But aside from that church dynamic, we do it with God, too. We say, it’s not my fault I can’t learn, it’s God’s fault. The fault is in God’s teaching method. God isn’t meeting me where I am. God isn’t speaking “my” language. God isn’t engaging me. Jesus’ pleads with us. Learn from me.
So do you really want to learn from Jesus?
It means bringing openness to our encounters with Jesus. Openness to new things. Maybe that’s why Jesus praises infants in this passage. Infants are eager and open to learn. To learn new things. To learn new ways to communicate, new ways to perambulate, new ways to relate.
Are you? Eager and open to learn from Jesus? Think about how you learn best. Different people do learn in different ways. How do you learn best? And how can you actively bring that learning activity to your encounters with Jesus? How can you really learn from Jesus' word as it is given to us in Scripture? From the living Christ as you encounter him in prayer? From Christ’s actions as you witness them in others?
How can you really learn from Jesus’ words as we find them on these Scripture inserts? How can these words be more than just words your eyes skim over or that go in one ear and out the other? Do you need to underline as you listen? Take them home and read them out loud yourself? Summarize them in your own words? Grab a friend and turn them into a drama? How can you find their meaning for your own life? Find those places where they are relevant to your personal concerns? How can you actively listen to these words so that they come alive in your life?
Or when you encounter Jesus’ in prayer. How can you move beyond rote repetition of familiar words? Prayer is a conversation. Sometimes an argument. Demand a response from God. Don’t back down until you get it. If writing helps you, write out your own prayers. Knit your prayers if that works for you.
How do you process observations so that they become learnings? How do you reflect on God’s presence and activity in your life so that you grow in your awareness and understanding? Maybe you need a soul friend or a spiritual director who will help you reflect. Maybe journaling works for you. Maybe meditation. But do something to reflect upon and process Jesus’ presence in your life.
There are risks to learning new things, of course. For one thing knowledge brings responsibility. Responsibility to act upon what we have learned. And learning always brings change.
To face those risks would seem to require motivation. What is the motivation to learn from Jesus? What might motivate us to bring ourselves as active learners in our encounters with Jesus? For one thing, learning from Jesus is really the only way to know God. You can probably pick up a little information about God by passive osmosis. But to know God, to have a relationship with God… that can only be learned from Jesus. And second, Jesus tells us we will find rest for our souls. That’s the reward for us. That’s Jesus’ promise. If we do the work of learning from Jesus, we will find rest for our souls.