Jesus: Rest for the Weary, Easing Life's Burdens...

A theologian walked into a coffee shop at the end of COVID lockdown, frustrated by being locked away whilst visiting his wife’s elderly grandmother. He’s bored and starts playing a game trying to work out what the women a few tables over, does for a living.

Sun, 05 Jul 2026
Tereza Herzfeldt

She’s on her laptop with earbuds in and speaking too loudly to be missed. She’s obviously 
visiting from the south and been shut up here from when the lockdowns began. He wonders 
if she is a pastor or minister, by the tone of her conversation. 
In a moment of clarity he realises she is a life coach – it is when she says, ‘As your life 
coach…’ She then rises into her well-rehearsed spiel – ‘You are going well. C’mon you 
must rise up and take charge. I’m telling you you’re strong and you need to hear the truth 
of who you are. Go do it…’ and so on. She really revved her clients up with reassurance 
after reassurance. Most of the call was reassuring them that they were not only okay but 
good, really good and they had to prove it.  
There was one line that really struck him as he listened on: ‘I know that things are so 
hard right now. I know… But what you need to remember in that no-one, no-one, is doing 
well right now… Think about it, remember that: no one is doing well.’ These words 
seemed to hit the right mark time and again. Why was it important for these clients to be 
constantly reassured and then reminded that no one is doing well at the moment? 
Why do any of us need such reassurance? What is it about life that has made it into a 
competition between us and everyone else? Why do we feel the pressure to perform so 
fully and completely and then compare ourselves with other people and what they do or 
seem to achieve? At every point we feel under pressure to be performers on the stage of 
life. In the workplace, in the school playground, at university or college, on social media – perhaps mostly on social media – we are performing, consciously or sub-consciously. 
We feel the pressure upon us, and it is heavy. It is the pressure to measure up to and 
achieve, to have or be upwardly climbing. We measure ourselves against other people and 
feel a sense of failure when we don’t compare favourably. When someone does something 
well, our egos measure their success against our own lack thereof and we feel lacking. We 
aren’t pretty enough or macho. We aren’t smart enough or athletic enough. We don’t have 
the best house in the street or live in the best postcode, or drive the right car or dress in the 
right clothes or have the highest degree or…  
In an age of anxiety and depression, there is unrelenting pressure to perform and to 
discover the inner genius or heroic action that will set us apart and reveal the truth of who 
we are and that we are significant. With each achievement, with every social media post, 
we feel good until we discover a dozen other people achieving something else, posting 
their own greatness and we are lost in the world or ordinariness – and we despair. 
This is a very 1st world problem. It is stress and pressure and wears us down in our very 
being. For much of the world, their tiredness and stress come from existence and the pain 
and struggle of lives in an unfriendly, unjust world. People in war zones, those engulfed 
by natural disaster, refugees eking out an existence in refugee camps and losing hope. 
There are those who live with violence and pain that is unrelenting. They are weary and 
tired in different ways. As we hear their stories an additional layer of burden is added as 
we yearn for their peace and freedom and feel helpless in our comfort and relative security 
to make a difference. Perhaps guilt adds its load to our stress but does little to relieve the 
pain of the Developing World and their impoverishment. 
In our story from Matthew’s Gospel this week (Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30) we hear 
Jesus speaking out against religion and religious people who are so obsessed with their 
religion they fail to see the God at its heart. Whether it is the solemn and passionate John 
the Baptist who comes with fiery preaching and prophetic words or the Jesus who is life
giving, reaching out to all inviting everyone to the feast of joy and wonder, these religious 
people reject them all. They are so intense on what is right, on the legal requirements, the 
belief system and a rigid set of expectation that they fail to see or hear the words of joy, 
wonder and love that transcends their religion and brings freedom. They fail to embrace 
another way. They are filled with angst and an intensity that stifles life and joy. Their 
religion becomes a grind, and God is lost somewhere else where there is a bit of fun, joy, 
food and where people wrestle with life in all its joy, wonder, struggle and pain. 
It is into the reality of our lives, with competing stresses and strains creating weary and 
impotent people, that we hear these words of Jesus: ‘Come to me, all you who are weary 
and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I 
am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy 
and my burden is light.’  
As I read and re-read these words, I feel a sense release. Something happens as I hear 
the deep truth within these words. I do feel weary and the burden of life. It isn’t the 
traumatic burdens that many people carry but it is tiring and I need to stop and breathe, to 
find rest, yes, but more-so, to find a different way.  
Jesus invites us to learn from him, to live into a different way of being and engaging 
our world and its tremendous challenges. ‘Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,’ 
are words that draw to mind the training of young oxen that are yoked with an older, wiser 
ox who knows the ropes, how to do its work. I wonder what it is that I might learn if I let 
myself go, put ego and pride aside, and prepared to learn anew about life and being? What 
might it mean to learn a different way that is not about competition but relationship? What 
might it mean to let go of the superficial expectations of a world driven by neoliberal 
economic forces and marketing brilliance designed to sell me more of everything I will 
never really need in order to feel okay about who I am? 
This radical way of Jesus invites me to let go of the competitive, binary thinking that 
assesses everyone and everything through the lens of us/them, me/you, in/out, right/wrong 
and so on. It is a radically inclusive way that creates a community where everyone is 
welcomed and all can receive love, peace, hope, justice and the invitation to live more 
fully, sharing together. Jesus invites us to come and rest from our tiredness and weariness, 
to learn a new way that is life-giving and hopeful. This is a way that will give life to our 
being and relieve us of the deep stress and struggle we experience in trying to toe the line 
of societal, religious (and corporate, political…) expectations. It is a different way, a way 
of love and grace, of forgiveness and mercy, of justice and peace, of community and 
working together for the well-being of all people.  His way embraces others into a 
community of hope and love that is inclusive and engaging.  It is a different way into life.