Rest in Christ

Girl in Hammock, Winslow Homer, 1873, from Wikipedia 
This is a faithful photographic reproduction of a two-dimensional, public domain work of art.

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

I am not normally someone who finds it easy to rest or relax; I have a sense that that is true for many people! However, my son received a hammock for his 6^th birthday and it’s been enjoyed by the whole family. We are blessed by having some of the most fantastically beautiful trees in our garden, huge glorious trees, which at the moment, in their varying versions of green and burnt amber are an absolute delight to view from the hammock. Looking upwards from a horizontal position really enables you to breathe in their grandeur and awesomeness in an overwhelming way. Together with the gentle rocking, it really is an experience of paradise. It is a place where I can pray.

‘Come unto me that are heavy laden and I will give you rest’.

These words spoken by Jesus I find nonetheless, challenging and comforting in equal measure. I am challenged by my natural inclination to seek burdens to carry, to work hard, to push myself; and then in contrast, the idea that rest is something that God desires for his people. How can it be that Jesus’ yoke is easy, that the burden is light? Surely for those of us of faith who long to see the complete revelation of the kingdom of God among us, we have a lot to work for? We only have to pick up the newspapers, speak to a few people, look on Facebook to see the angst and despair that hovers around the world. How can these words be true? ‘Come unto me that are heavy laden and I will give you rest’. Surely if these words are true it’s because we have given in to quietism and spiritual self-satisfaction of the worst sort? Isn’t that why, when I am in the hammock, I know that underneath the enjoyment is a lingering guilt?

At our Tuesday Communion Service this week we looked together at the story of Jesus on the ship with his disciples when the great storm arises. Jesus, if you remember is asleep. The disciples awake him in great fear and ask him to save them – he rebukes the wind and the waves, and chastises the disciples for their lack of faith.

This story seems connected to Jesus’ teaching on rest. If, in the midst of a storm, Jesus is able to be at peace, asleep – then does that have something to do with how we as Christians are being taught to be? Is Jesus asking us to develop serenity of mind and soul amid our own struggles and sufferings?

Apatheia is an ancient Greek word and concept which found its way into early Christian spirituality- it means literally ‘without pathos – meaning without suffering or passion’. It was interpreted in the Christian tradition to mean developing a certain sort of spirituality that was about cultivating a sense of peacefulness whatever one was experiencing or undergoing. We can see how that sort of serenity, if we have just received a cancer diagnosis or if we are very frightened, or if someone we love has just died would require an extraordinary amount of faith.

Before I went into hospital to have my twins I might have fooled myself into thinking I had something of that faith- but the experience of fear in the face of illness (which I experienced after their birth) disabused me of that pious notion. The fact is that faith in the face of personal adversity is hard to have – it’s alright looking on from the outside – but as humans our emotional responses are deeply physical. We feel, literally, not just spiritually.

Maybe that is what St Paul was struggling with in his tortured passage about the spirit and the flesh and not wanting to do what he’s doing, and doing what he doesn’t want to do (Romans 7.15ff). Humans are bound by our flesh – its desires and needs, and it was this battle (between the flesh and the spirit) that led many early Christians to follow the spiritual path of asceticism. The stories of monks and nuns who would eat only the bread of Christ for a week etc. abound in early medieval hagiography. And the Rules which underpin monastic spirituality of chastity, poverty and obedience reflect that same desire to tame the appetites of the flesh.

But, Jesus’ words don’t suggest rigorous monastic discipline, ‘I am gentle and humble of heart…. my yoke is easy and my burden is light’.

What is the connection between rest and gentleness together with humility?

I must admit that I don’t know, but here are some thoughts: humility, for instance, is about self-emptying – which means freeing ourselves from the demands of the ego, and some of the way in which we work can be about satisfying the ego. Then, there is what we were discussing on Tuesday – the idea that what is important is to place all our experiences (both good and bad) at God’s feet so that we at least are willing to share them with him, if not abandon them totally to his prescience/ foresight/ will. So, there is the letting go of that which we do that just feeds our ego (must be a few burdens there); and there is the act of relying on God for everything and in everything (to a greater or lesser degree depending on what we can manage). If we rely on God perhaps we do become gentler, less at odds with ourselves and others and more at peace with what God has given and what God has taken away, i.e. the changes and chances of this fleeting world? Have we got any closer to how rest is connected to gentleness and humility? Perhaps we have…

St Paul places his struggle in the flesh in perspective by locating it within the work of Jesus Christ which transcends, literally, our earthly existence. God has made us beings of the flesh and yet we anticipate heaven through our spiritual selves. Life on earth is about, it seems to me, learning to live with that dialectic in a creative way, a creative tension, rather than a destructive one. Christian tradition has only at times seemed to manage that; the temptation is to descend into various forms of dualism born of Gnosticism. Today, we seem better placed than ever before to appreciate the human - scientifically, psychologically and so forth - and yet perhaps least able to appreciate the spiritual self. If we are to re-imagine ourselves today in the light of Jesus it will mean learning to anticipate heaven once again and learning therefore to receive and give thanks. Something that God seems to be offering me in the gentle peace of the hammock – how might God be inviting you to receive his peace and to give thanks?

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

Relevant Bible Passages:

Romans 7.15-25a

Matthew 11.16-19, 25-end

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