Exhausted. It’s a word I hear often these days. Tired. Weary. Exhausted. Psychologists will tell you that an experience of trauma can cause us to feel this way. I’ve heard from experts who study trauma that the COVID-19 pandemic has been a collective, worldwide experience of trauma—one that we will continue to see the effects of for many years. And it’s not just the experience of trauma that is wearing us out. In extraordinary times like these, our human tendency is to over-function, over-compensate; to take on extra burdens, shouldering a heavier load than we can or should.
Even as we over-function and take on extra burdens, maybe in an attempt to lighten the load of others—our family, our friends, our co-workers—we struggle with feelings of inadequacy, like we aren’t doing enough, or if we are, we aren’t doing a good enough job. It’s a vicious cycle that heaps more and more weight on our shoulders.
It’s a cycle that St. Paul often wrestled with. In the second reading from Romans he confesses his very personal struggle with never feeling good enough, “I don’t understand my own actions,” he says, “For I do not do what I want, but do the very thing I hate…For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” I know the feeling. It is a heavy burden.
The gospel passage begins with Jesus showing frustration with his generation—people who were overly critical of him and his predecessor, John the Baptist. He is losing patience with people who refuse to dance in times of joy and refuse to weep in times of mourning. Sometimes our burdens keep us from living in the moment; the stress that our burdens create can leave us bitter, overly-critical and quick to complain.
Come to me, Jesus says. Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest…Take my yoke upon you, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.
Even as he voices his frustrations, Jesus acknowledges the heavy burdens that we place on ourselves, the tremendous weight that we place on our shoulders and invites us to rest, to take a yoke that is easy and a burden that is light. Instead of beating ourselves up by feeling inadequate or being imperfect or believing that we are alone in dealing with all our difficulties, Jesus looks us in the eye and says, “you are enough.” Jesus invites us to give him our exhaustion and our weariness, letting the heaviness fall away, releasing the tension in our bodies and souls.
In the first reading from Zechariah, the phrase “prisoners of hope” is used to describe the people of Israel. Prisoners of hope. In many ways that is what we are. We are people held captive by the burdens we carry. We are people held captive by the trauma and division that we see around us. We are held captive by the sin and evil that we hate, but we do anyway, knowingly and unknowingly. And yet, we are people of hope. We are people of resurrection. We are people of God, called to place our hope in the freedom and rescue of the crucified and risen Christ.
Taking up the yoke of Christ, set free from our burdens, we are released and replenished to live lives of compassion, sacrifice, reconciliation, and service to our neighbor.
The next time you are feeling exhausted, the next time you are feeling inadequate or despondent over your failings, remember Jesus’ invitation to “come, come with your weariness and burdens, and I will give you rest.” Remember that you are enough. Live into the grace that God blesses us with, grace to do only what we can, and trust that it is enough. Live into the grace of God’s boundless love for you. Hand yourself over to the one who accompanies us every day, bringing us victory and peace.