Yoking Around

This sermon was preached at our Sunday morning service on Sunday 9th July. The Gospel was Matthew 11:16-19,25-30. I hope you enjoy reading it!

The other week, Miriam had a play date with one of her friends from nursery. They were both so excited beforehand and really looking forward to playing together, and it gave Jen and I the opportunity to sit and talk to another couple about grown-up things rather than Fireman Sam, Ninjago or unicorn-riding mermaids.

Now, any of you who have been parents to small children, or been small children yourselves will not be surprised to learn things did not go exactly to plan! Whilst Jen and I and the other couple were happily taking about work, or cars, or the situation in Ukraine (...actually, come to think of it, children might be better at choosing conversation topics than adults after all), we heard wailing from two different corners of the house.

Duly, I investigated.

The problem, as it turned out, was down to the choice of game. Miriam wanted to play at being dinosaurs. Her friend, however, wanted to play superheroes. And being unable to come to an agreement, they both took themselves off to separate rooms and collapsed into floods of tears, bemoaning the inability to play anything at all if they couldn't play the one game they wished to. The only game either of them would ever, ever, ever want to play, Daddy!

Despite my offer for both of them to come join their parents in talking about the price of fuel, neither of them particularly wished to back down by playing the game chosen by the other. It was only when a compromise - dinosaur superheroes - was offered that things started to improve. The rest of the evening went swimmingly, even with SuperStegosaurus and T-rex Man careering around the house...

And that, believe it or not, brings me to our Gospel reading today! No, not the superhero dinosaurs; the whole problem of not being able to play together.

In our reading, Jesus gives an example of children playing in the market square. Or rather, like Miriam and her playmate, not playing. In exactly the same way, they only want to play their own game and not their friend's. But in this situation, there is no compromise. Instead, the children simply end up just sitting on the side lines and sniping at each other. "You won't play my game!", "Well, you won't play my game!"

And so, no-one plays. They don't play at dancing and celebrating, and they don't play at mourning either.

Anyone with an interest in child development will tell you that play is an extremely important part of learning. It's how we learn to interact, to compromise and to work through potentially difficult situations. It's how we learn to live together. In our Gospel reading today, these children wanted to play at celebration and mourning, but in the end, they played nothing. They learnt nothing.

Christ says these children in his story were a metaphor for the generation of the time. This generation that Christ talks about; what have they learnt? Not to celebrate. Not to mourn. Are these not some of the fundamental things that make us alive?

This generation has not learnt to live. 

Instead, they simply sit on the side-lines and bicker.

Not joining in, just criticising.

And then, in an apparent non-sequitor, Jesus then says that 'wisdom is vindicated by her deeds'. I've been scratching my head about that in preparing for this sermon, but don't worry... I'm going to come back to it.

But let's follow the path. Jesus takes this apparent verbal detour and starts talking about wisdom. Who is wise, he asks? Certainly not this generation acting like the bickering children in his story. 

Who is wise, he asks? Well, actual children. It is to children whom God has granted wisdom, Jesus says. Children who play. Children who laugh and cry. These children who learn to live. And, I don't know about you, but I'm suddenly reminded of a later passage in Matthew's Gospel where Jesus tells his disciples that they must change to become like children in order to enter the kingdom of heaven. We are called to be like children.

Jesus says that the children are wise. They are children of Wisdom. 

Throughout the Bible, Wisdom is often personified; there are good arguments to link the personification of Wisdom and the Holy Spirit. These children of wisdom are children of the Holy Spirit.

‘Wisdom is vindicated by her deeds’, Jesus said earlier. And just as we're trying to work out how all of this links together, our eye might fall upon a tiny note in our Bible when we read this verse. In some ancient sources, the word we translate here as 'deeds' is translated slightly differently. Instead of 'deeds', some ancient sources say 'children'.

Wisdom is vindicated by her deeds. The Holy Spirit is vindicated by her children. These children, to whom God has granted wisdom to laugh with each other and cry with each other and love each other and be alive with each other prove the power of the Spirit. They are children of God. Children of the Spirit.

Now, I have an apparent non-sequitor of my own. Let me park where we are and turn to our reading from Romans. We've been making our way through Romans for a number of weeks now, and today, we hit upon a bit of a downer, didn't we?

"I am a wretched man!", says St Paul."I don't do the things I want to do, instead I find myself doing the very things I hate!" And, even though we might find this eminently relatable - I know I do at least - it's not really the Good News that we expect to hear from St Paul. He's normally a great one for encouragement.

But (and don't you go telling the Bishop), this is where I have a problem with today's lectionary. Today's reading from Romans can't be divorced from the reading we will hear next week. It mustn't. Today we have the bad news; 'the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak', if you like. But today, I'm also giving you spoilers. Here's what we'll hear from Paul next week, and see if you can work out the link with our Gospel!:

The flesh may be weak, but Paul tells us that we are not children of flesh. Next week, Paul tells us that because God's Holy Spirit lives in us, we are children of the Holy Spirit! 

Today's reading from Romans might sound all too close to the bone, but it doesn't have to be! It's a comparison between children of 'the flesh' and children of the spirit; between 'this generation' that sits on the side-lines and bickers and criticises and does not do the things that they know are the right thing to do, and the children of God, who have learnt to follow the will of God. Who have learnt to rejoice and learnt to mourn; rejoicing with those who rejoice, and mourning with those who mourn.

But, how do we learn? How do we accept the call to make the move from someone who believes in God to someone who follows him? The move from believer to disciple? 

Well, like with most things, we learn from a teacher. And the Teacher says as much himself in our Gospel - come to Jesus and take on his yoke. A yoke, in case you didn't know, joins a pair of oxen, allowing them to bear the burden together. It is not unusual to yoke an inexperienced ox to an older one, allowing the more experienced one to teach the younger. Jesus calls you; bond yourself to him and let him teach you. Join yourself to him as a disciple.

Come to Jesus... Learn from him. Laugh with him and cry with him. Rejoice. Mourn. And Live. 

Live in freedom, yoked to Christ and not to your past. Not tripping yourselves up on the same traps you keep falling into. Take on the yoke of discipleship. 

Move from a believer to a disciple, learning from God, and living life to the full.

Come, away from the side lines and join in, says Jesus.

Come, and learn from him. Become a child of wisdom: wisdom is proven by her deeds. Become a child of the spirit, and in doing so, prove the power of the Holy Spirit.

Come and play, says Jesus.

Amen.