Come to Me…
In Matthew 11:28–29 (NLT), Jesus says, ‘Come to me, all you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.’ In part one of this two-part series, Jules Badger explores Jesus’ enticing but often misunderstood invitation. What is this rest Jesus offers and how do we receive it?
I’m not sure about you, but it feels overwhelming and exhausting just to be human right now. There’s a precariousness about life in a world where global events seem to be piling up, one crisis after another. Some days I struggle to read the news but am simultaneously unable to look away. I want to ‘keep up’ but it’s bringing me down. I know I am not alone in this quandary.
Our souls are tired. We need a reprieve, a break. A rest from it all. But how?
Jesus says, ‘Come to me, all you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest’ (Matt 11:28).
This verse is one of the most attractive invitations in all of Scripture because being human and living in a fallen world means there are seasons when we find ourselves weary—physically, emotionally, spiritually, socially. Despite world events and regardless of our stage of life, address or income stream, we carry all sorts of heavy burdens—loss, ill health, brokenness, confusion, isolation and fear of the future.
In the midst of this, Jesus says, ‘Come to me…’
For many of us, though, there’s a gap between Jesus’ wonderful invitation and our ability to accept and receive it. Of course we want to come to Jesus, but we are unable to disconnect from our devices and unplug from our busy schedules. Of course we want rest, but on our own terms. Yes, we want someone else to carry our heavy burdens, but we are loath to relinquish control. We might not articulate it, but we struggle to take our hands off. And if we’re really honest, perhaps we’re also a little afraid of Jesus. Afraid of what he’ll see and say. Of what coming to him might expose.
As if Jesus doesn’t already know. As if this is not the very reason he extends his invitation to us in the first place.
It was many years before I noticed that the first thing Jesus says in this amazing passage is not, ‘I’ll give you rest’ but, in fact, ‘Come to me’. I totally missed that. I’ve been made aware by fellow travellers that not only do I have company in this failure to notice, but, in hindsight, we are similarly perplexed by what now seems so obvious. Like so many others, I wanted the rest Jesus spoke of, but I didn’t want to have to change anything. I wanted my burdens to be lifted, but I wanted Jesus to do it in a way that suited me and according to my proposed schedule. I didn’t want to feel overwhelmed and frantic anymore, I wanted to feel peaceful and content and serene. I prayed and asked for those things—repeatedly.
Of course, when I didn’t receive the peace and serenity I wanted, I would blame God. I thought this passage was some sort of spiritual tease—aspirational, rather than possible. I recently spoke with another spiritual pilgrim who said for many years he thought this passage was ‘a load of rubbish’.
Like many before me, I mistakenly thought that Jesus would just zap me! And give me the rest I longed for. After all, I was doing so many things for him, surely rest was a reward for all my hard work? I had no idea that Jesus was wanting to show me the source of true rest, and that ‘zapping me’ with a rested soul was to miss the point of what he was offering.
If only we would slow down and stop and come to him…
Doing for God is not the same as being with God. As The Salvation Army, we pride ourselves on giving people something to do, which is often wonderful because service helps others and encourages us to grow as disciples. While we can certainly sense God’s presence, and even pleasure, when we are serving him and others, this is not the same as sitting quietly and attentively at his feet. Coming to Jesus means just that—stopping what we are doing for a while and paying attention to our inner life. Only Jesus can attend to the deep needs of our soul.
‘Rest as resistance’ is becoming an increasingly loud 21st-century catch-cry, and not just for people of faith. Jesus invites all who are weary to come to him. Perhaps the most revolutionary thing we have to offer the world in these uncertain days is Jesus’ offer of rest—to be with him. The world is crying out for peace, and the offer of space and permission to slow down and find comfort in the presence of Jesus may well be the most powerful ‘outreach tool’ we have at our disposal. And not only is it free, it’s where
true freedom is found.
Jesus says, ‘Come to me, all you who are weary…’
Jesus knows what we really need. We need him. The rest we seek is found only in his presence. Many of us take years to grasp this gentle but subtle truth. But this is the loving, gracious and active work of the Holy Spirit in our spiritual formation. And guess what? Even when we miss or blatantly reject the invitation to ‘come to him’, Jesus doesn’t give up on us. It’s not a one-time offer, but an open invitation. Eugene Peterson puts it beautifully. ‘God loves you. He’s on your side. He’s coming after you. He’s relentless.’
Is your soul tired? Are you feeling overwhelmed? What might ‘coming to Jesus’ look like for you? What could you stop doing in order to be with Jesus? Is it time for a digital detox to create space for a regular contemplative walk? Have you considered signing up for a ‘quiet day’ or even a spiritual retreat? Making room for the One who says, ‘come to me’, is always worth the effort.
