Hello my friends,

I pray you had a safe and grace filled week. While I was processing some complicated emotions around Independence Day, I wrote this short essay about grief being a form of patriotism too. I thought I would share it here with you in case you found it helpful.

Today, I wanted to reflect on both Jesus' frustrations and healing words in Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30, where he laments the hardheartedness of people and brings invitation to rest in the midst of weariness. In the midst of all that is happening in our world today, I found this passage both timely and encouraging. I hope you do too.

Learning The Unforced Rhythms Of Grace.

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

“How can I account for this generation? The people have been like spoiled children whining to their parents, ‘We wanted to skip rope, and you were always too tired; we wanted to talk, but you were always too busy.’ John came fasting and they called him crazy. I came feasting and they called me a boozer, a friend of the misfits. Opinion polls don’t count for much, do they? The proof of the pudding is in the eating.”

Abruptly Jesus broke into prayer: “Thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth. You’ve concealed your ways from sophisticates and know-it-alls, but spelled them out clearly to ordinary people. Yes, Father, that’s the way you like to work.”

Jesus resumed talking to the people, but now tenderly. “The Father has given me all these things to do and say. This is a unique Father-Son operation, coming out of Father and Son intimacies and knowledge. No one knows the Son the way the Father does, nor the Father the way the Son does. But I’m not keeping it to myself; I’m ready to go over it line by line with anyone willing to listen.

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

A Tone of Frustration.

As we begin to read this passage, there is an obvious frustration and weariness in Jesus' voice. "How can I account for this generation?" Jesus doesn't seem weary of people, but weary of a generation that seems determined to reject the work of God no matter how it appears. Namely, the work of God's mercy.

As we read, Jesus compares them to children sitting in the marketplace arguing over the rules of a game. When one group plays a joyful tune, no one dances. When another sings a funeral song, no one mourns. Nothing is acceptable. Nothing is enough. It seems to be an insistence on being hardhearted no matter the situation.

John the Baptist came fasting in the wilderness, clothed in simplicity, calling people to repentance. They said he was possessed by a demon. Jesus came eating and drinking, sharing meals with tax collectors and sinners, celebrating the arrival of God's Kingdom among ordinary people. They called him a glutton and a drunkard and soft on sin.

The problem was not John. The problem was not Jesus. The problem was that many had already decided what God was supposed to look like, and they could not recognize God when God stood right in front of them, especially in a way they didn't expect.

In the original Greek, Jesus describes himself as the "Son of Man," a title rich with echoes from the prophet Daniel. Yet instead of appearing as the conquering figure many expected, he comes bringing healing, mercy, forgiveness, and welcome.

He does not fit their expectations and so they reject him.

On Earth As In Heaven.

There is something deeply human and familiar about all this, isn't there? We all carry assumptions about how God should work, whom God should bless, what faithfulness should look like, and who belongs. When God disrupts those assumptions, we often find ourselves resisting the very grace we claim to seek.

That is why Jesus follows his rebuke with a prayer.

"I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth..."

He speaks of how God's wisdom is often hidden from those who consider themselves wise and revealed instead to the humble.

The Greek word translated to "ordinary people" in our passage today is a word most commonly translated to "children" or "infants." It does not refer merely to little children but rather it points toward those who recognize their utter dependence. Those who know they do not have all the answers so they remain open to being taught.

Jesus is emphasizing the deep importance of this kind of "child like" posture because the Kingdom of God often arrives in ways that confound our categories, which is exactly how he came into the world.

The powerful assume they can control it. The religious assume they can define it. The nationalists assume they can harness it. Yet the Kingdom continues to emerge among the overlooked, the vulnerable, the poor in spirit, and those who know their need for mercy.

Independence Day.

As I write this reflection, our nation is marking 250 years since declaring its independence. That anniversary is worth celebrating. The American experiment has carried within it extraordinary aspirations. A belief that tyranny should be resisted. A conviction that people possess inherent dignity. A hope that liberty might flourish. These ideals have inspired generations.

And yet love of country requires more than celebration. It requires honesty. A "how can I account for this generation?" kind of honesty.

A kind of honesty that remembers how Indigenous peoples cared for and loved this land long before long before we called it home.

A kind of honesty that remembers how the wealth of this nation was built in large part through the exploitation of enslaved Black men, women, and children whose labor and very lives constructed its foundations while they were denied freedom and dignity themselves.

A kind of honesty that remembers how generation after generation of immigrants arrived carrying hopes, skills, traditions, and dreams that helped shape the nation we know today.

To love America is not to deny these truths. It is to tell them honestly. It is to hold both gratitude and grief. Both hope and accountability.

The prophets understood this. So did Jesus. Love never ignores injustice. Love seeks healing. Love tells the truth. Love calls people and nations toward what they can become.

That is why Christians must be careful whenever faith becomes too closely fused with national identity. Jesus did not come proclaiming the greatness of an empire. He proclaimed the Kingdom of God. He did not call people to preserve a particular partisan movement. He called them to love their neighbors. He did not organize his ministry around the powerful. He consistently moved toward those carrying heavy burdens. Which is clearly illustrated by some of the most beloved words in all of Scripture: "Come to me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest."

The word translated "rest" carries the sense of relief, refreshment, and restoration. Jesus is not offering an escape from reality. He is offering freedom within it. The burdened people of Jesus' day knew exactly what heavy loads felt like.

Some were crushed by poverty. Some by political oppression. Some by religious leaders who turned devotion into an exhausting performance. Some by systems that benefited from keeping them in their place. Jesus saw them all. And he sees us.

He knows the burdens people carry today. The burden of stress. The burden of division. The burden of wondering whether truth still matters. The burden of watching neighbors turn against one another. The burden of carrying grief for a nation we love. The burden of seeing faith used as a tool for power instead of a pathway toward love. To them, to us, Jesus says, "Come to me."

A Yoke?

But then Jesus offers something unexpected. A yoke. At first that sounds strange. A yoke was a wooden beam placed upon animals to guide their work. Yet in Jesus' world, a yoke was also a common metaphor for a way of life, a pattern of discipleship, a way of learning.

Jesus is not offering freedom from responsibility. He is offering freedom from oppressive ways of living. "My yoke is easy," he says. The Greek word translated "easy" can also mean kind, good, or fitting. In other words, Jesus offers a way of life that fits the human soul because it reflects the heart of God.

And what kind of heart does Jesus reveal? "I am gentle and humble in heart." Not domineering. Not coercive. Not obsessed with control. Gentle. Humble.

This is what makes the way of Jesus so different from the ways of empire. Empires seek domination. Jesus seeks restoration. Empires demand allegiance. Jesus invites trust. Empires burden people to preserve themselves. Jesus bears burdens to set people free.

Perhaps that is the question before us this Independence Day weekend. Not simply whether we love our country. But whether we are willing to love it the way Jesus teaches us to love.

A love that tells the truth. A love that seeks justice. A love that welcomes the stranger. A love that protects the vulnerable. A love that resists tyranny. A love that refuses to confuse the Kingdom of God with the kingdoms of this world. A love rooted not in fear but in mercy. Not in domination but in dignity. Not in power but in compassion.

The good news is that we do not carry this burden alone. The gentle and humble Christ still stands among the weary. Still invites the burdened. Still offers rest. Still teaches us a better way.

And if we want to find him, Matthew tells us where to look. Among those carrying the heaviest loads. That is where Jesus has always been.

Prayer

Lord Jesus,

In a world filled with noise, competing loyalties, and endless demands, we hear your invitation once again:

"Come to me."

Many of us are weary.

We carry burdens for our families, our communities, our churches, and our nation.

We carry grief over divisions that seem impossible to heal.

We carry concern for those who are suffering, excluded, or forgotten.

We carry the weight of uncertainty about the future.

Teach us to take your yoke upon us.

Free us from the burdens that do not come from you.

Free us from fear.

Free us from cynicism.

Free us from the temptation to seek power more than faithfulness.

Give us hearts that are gentle and humble like yours.

Help us to love our country honestly.

To celebrate what is good.

To confront what is harmful.

To seek justice for all people.

To honor the dignity of every human being.

To welcome the stranger.

To care for creation.

To stand with the poor and the oppressed.

May your love shape who we are more than any ideology.

May your compassion guide our convictions.

May your mercy soften our hearts.

And may your rest strengthen us to continue the work of love, justice, peace, and reconciliation in the world you so deeply love.

In the name of Christ, who is gentle and humble in heart,

Amen.

Now I'd like to hear from you! Did you find this helpful? What thoughts came to your mind as you read? Feel free to respond to this email and share your thoughts with me. I look forward to reading them. A 30 Day Day Devotional: I wrote a daily devotional in hopes to provide a companion for people seeking to follow Jesus through the season of we are currently navigating together. You can find out more below: $20.00 Following Jesus In A World Obsessed With Empires: 30 Days of reclaiming the hope, compassion, and justice of Jesus. Today, our world can often feel overwhelmed by darkness, division, and despair. I created this 30-day devotional to... Read more Get it now! ​ Ways to support: If you'd like to support this project, you can do so through one-time-gift of any amount you feel is right. You can also subscribe through a $5/mo, $15/mo, or $25/mo. Several others have also asked for a recurring gift option that is different from the ones offered here, like this one. If you'd like me to set up a different option for you, please just send me an email with the word "support" in the subject line. As always, I really want to thank all of you for reading and for all the ways you support me and this project every single week. I'm thankful for the ways we are building this together and hope it creates a lasting, positive change in our world along the way! I sincerely appreciate you all, Ben Remember, you can now view this and all previous newsletters as well as invite friends to join through this link: https://benjamin-cremer.ck.page/profile.

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