Sermon, Proper 9, Year A 2023
Zechariah 9:9-12; Psalm 145:8-15; Romans 7:15-25a; Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
Before the jail in Caroline County closed several years ago, several of us led a Bible study there once a month. As part of our training, we took a tour of the jail and got to see how the prisoners lived. We were allowed to go into a part of the jail that wasn’t being used, so that we could see how the prisoners lived.
Each cell clustered around the large common area holds four people. The bunks are metal. There is a clearly visible toilet in each cell, offering no privacy. The prisoners spend a great deal of time in their cells. At certain times of the day, they can come out into the common room, unless there has been some disturbance and they are locked down. Getting outside means going into an area with a high fence topped with barbed wire, where there is room to walk, but not room for anything else.
And for prisoners who cause trouble, the solitary cell to which they are confined is separated from everyone else, completely silent and windowless, completely isolated from the outside world.
Periodically, throughout our lives, we find that we are maybe not in an actual jail cell, but in some circumstance in which feel that we are being held captive.
Sermon, Proper 9, Year A 2023
Zechariah 9:9-12; Psalm 145:8-15; Romans 7:15-25a; Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
Before the jail in Caroline County closed several years ago, several of us led a Bible study there once a month. As part of our training, we took a tour of the jail and got to see how the prisoners lived. We were allowed to go into a part of the jail that wasn’t being used, so that we could see how the prisoners lived.
Each cell clustered around the large common area holds four people. The bunks are metal. There is a clearly visible toilet in each cell, offering no privacy. The prisoners spend a great deal of time in their cells. At certain times of the day, they can come out into the common room, unless there has been some disturbance and they are locked down. Getting outside means going into an area with a high fence topped with barbed wire, where there is room to walk, but not room for anything else.
And for prisoners who cause trouble, the solitary cell to which they are confined is separated from everyone else, completely silent and windowless, completely isolated from the outside world.
Periodically, throughout our lives, we find that we are maybe not in an actual jail cell, but in some circumstance in which feel that we are being held captive.
Pain can feel like a prison, especially when the pain is constant and inescapable and keeps us from our normal activities.
Aging can feel like a prison. When we can no longer do the things we used to do, and our worlds start to shrink, we may feel that we have been thrown into a pit from which we cannot escape.
Or perhaps in our attempts to help someone else who has been limited by pain or by age, or disease, we may find that we feel imprisoned by our circumstances, with very few options available to us, other than to stay put and deal with what must be done.
Or we may be in a relationship that feels like a prison, with no obvious way to escape. People who experience domestic abuse often feel that they have no option but to put up with the abuse. Their situation resembles being in prison.
Addictions can hold us captive.
When we are trying to pray, what some call the “monkey mind” that won’t be still can hold us captive and keep us from being able to rest in God during our time of prayer.
Maybe something as simple as being stuck in a car in rush hour traffic for hours on end can feel like a prison.
Think of a time that you have felt imprisoned, or a way that you feel imprisoned right now.
Now listen to this phrase from the Old Testament Prophet Zechariah.
“Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope!”
Return to your stronghold. No matter which prison in which we find ourselves stuck, we can still return to our stronghold.
Our stronghold is the Lord.
Psalm 27 says that “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?”
If the Lord is the stronghold of our lives, we realize that even though we are imprisoned in very real ways, we can have hope, because
“the Lord is gracious, and full of compassion, slow to anger and of great kindness, loving, faithful, the One who upholds all who fall, who lifts up those who are bowed down.”
That’s what the Psalmist David said about God. David learned about who God was through the trials and errors of his life. David directly experienced God’s graciousness, compassion, kindness, patience, love, and faithfulness toward him even when he found himself in horrible, imprisoning situations, some of his own making. Every time he returned to his stronghold, the Lord, David was filled with hope all over again. Even if he was still caught up in the imprisoning situation, his hope in God sustained him.
The Apostle Paul writes says that we are all imprisoned by sin.
I don’t understand my own actions, Paul says. “For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”
So who will rescue him from his body of death, that is, from his sinful self?
The Lord is Paul’s stronghold too—“Thanks be to God! Through Jesus Christ our Lord!”
In today’s gospel, Jesus talks about burdens. Jesus knew that the burdens we carry can make us feel like we are in prison.
In this passage, Jesus is specifically referring to the burdens that people are carrying because of the ways in which the Pharisees expect them to conform to the religious laws. Jesus is talking about the burdens imposed on the people when they are told that they must conform to the laws in particular ways.
The Pharisees have imprisoned the people through their interpretation of the laws, setting them up for failure, which is sad, because God gave us laws to free us to live in love and in hope.
So Jesus asks those burdened people to come to him because he will give them rest.
Jesus could have had this wisdom writing from Proverbs in mind when he calls the people to him.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not to your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths.” (Proverbs 3:5-6)
You can hear the wisdom of Proverbs echoing through the words of Jesus. “Take my yoke upon me and learn from me.”
Follow me, and I will direct your paths.
The good news for us is that if we allow Jesus to teach us, we will learn more and more deeply as time goes on that God is truly gracious, and full of compassion, slow to anger and of great kindness, loving, and faithful, the One who upholds all who fall, who lifts up those who are bowed down—our stronghold.
Jesus shows us in person who the Father is, and so we can see, from our prisons, whatever they may be, the way to freedom in God’s love, and our freedom to love one another as God has loved us.
Most of you have probably heard of Nelson Mandela, who served as the first president of South Africa. Mandela helped to bring reconciliation to a country torn by division. An anti-apartheid activist in his early life, he was arrested and thrown into prison for his part in trying to overthrow the white nationalist government which had created a system that repressed people of color.
Mandela served twenty-seven years in jail in Robben Island Prison. Twenty-seven years in a prison cell. During all that time, Mandela was a prisoner of hope, and his stronghold was God.
When he was finally released, Mandela said that “as I walked out the door to the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew that if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison.”
In other words, Mandela lay down the yoke of bitterness and hate, and instead chose to put on the yoke of Jesus, the yoke of love, the yoke of humility rather than arrogance, the yoke of gentleness rather than oppressiveness.
What is your prison? What heavy burdens are you carrying? What is wearing you out? What has stolen your hope?
Here’s God’s good news promise to us.
“Come to Jesus, all who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and Jesus will give us rest.”
“Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope; today I declare that I will restore you double.”