The priest said that the translation which he likes best is “my yoke is well-fitting.” We are yoked like oxen to a plough, but the yoke fits our heads. It is well-fitted to our heads. It is a personal, custom-made yoke for each one of us, and Jesus provides it. I love this translation, because it shows that the Lord makes sure that this is a situation that we can handle. He doesn’t give us someone else’s yoke, because it wouldn’t fit well with our circumstances of spiritual growth. He gives us our specific, well-fitting yoke makes our burden easier and lighter to bear. I have been in many situations, in which I thought that I couldn’t handle them, but I got through them. I’m in one now, and I have emerged from the point, in which I thought that I couldn’t handle it. I now think that I can.

The priest also talked about how we are yoked together with Jesus, like a team of oxen. So we don’t have to bear the burden alone, because Jesus bears it with us. He is always there, side by side with us, taking each step with us, helping us bear our burden. He asks us to bear His cross, but we do so with Him. And, in turn, He helps us bear our burden. After all, we are yoked together and pulling the same plough. When we are yoked with Jesus, we get His help.

I am very grateful to that visiting priest, because he gave me insight that allows me to have a beautiful image of me, side-by-side with Jesus, both of us bearing His cross and my burden. It makes the call to take up His cross much easier, because in doing so, my burden immediately becomes lighter.

Have a blessed Advent, everyone!

“Even if you’re on the right track, you’ll get run over if you just sit there.” – Will Rogers

It’s good to start a dialog about something you feel deeply about. Push back.

Read Mt 7:21-23. Yes, I know the Gospel of Matthew is directed towards the Jews (just as today’s reading was slanted towards the burdens being put on the the Jewish people by the Pharisees with the use of the law), but I think “The True Disciple” reading applies to my train of thought. In my opinion, it’s what’s in your heart that counts.

Mark

Mark, I’m going to push back a bit on the idea of “it’s not what you do, it’s why you do it.” In the broad strokes, it is (of course) ideal to do things for the right reasons. But doing things because you feel obligated, or because you fear consequences, or because someone told you to is an acceptable (if less-than-ideal) reason for doing them.

You see this most “perfectly” in contrition. If you feel bad for a sin because of your overwhelming love of God and your desire to get right with the Almighty, great! That’s called “perfect” (that is, contrition of charity). To quote the catechism: “Such contrition remits venial sins; it also obtains forgiveness of mortal sins if it includes the firm resolution to have recourse to sacramental confession as soon as possible.”

But if you’re just feeling bad about your sins because you fear divine punishment . . . well, that’s okay, too. It’s called “contrition of fear.” Again, to quote the catechism: “Such a stirring of conscience can initiate an interior process which, under the prompting of grace, will be brought to completion by sacramental absolution.” (The catechism continues, “By itself however, imperfect contrition cannot obtain the forgiveness of grave sins, but it disposes one to obtain forgiveness in the sacrament of Penance.”)

To continue the marriage analogy of my post, not everything that is done in a marriage is done because of the overwhelming sense of love and desire for your partner. Sometimes it’s done because you don’t want to get yelled at, or because you’ve been nagged into doing it, or because you want to “prove a point” to your mate. Again, that’s not ideal, but at least you’re doing the right thing . . . which is better than not doing the right thing. Why? Because the act of continuing to do what’s best for a marriage — even when you don’t want to, or don’t feel it — is built off the fundamental decision to love.

And, by doing things you don’t particularly want to do, you train your mind, body, and spirit to want to do those things, eventually. Babies don’t emerge from the womb knowing how to say “please” and “thank you.” They do those things because a higher power (mom & dad) told them to do it and scolded them when they didn’t. But eventually, after enough years of coerced “please”s and “thank you”s, children do it on their own, and — more often than not — turn into polite, considerate adults, because that’s what their souls have turned into. (My wife considered my politeness to be one of the more attractive and noteworthy features when we met.)

Placing the onus of action on having a heartfelt desire to do every task sets us up for the opposite: if you don’t feel a desire to do something, then that means you don’t have to, right? Nope. Even if you don’t 100% feel like going to Church on Sunday, drag your butt there. Even if it’s really inconvenient to get to Church during a vacation, do it anyway, even if you don’t want to. Because, eventually, that will turn into just what you do, and you won’t envision doing otherwise . . . because your spirit will be transformed.

Sure, try to get to a point where you’re doing the right thing for the right reasons. But, along that journey, if you’re doing the right thing for less-than-ideal reasons, you’re still doing the right thing . . . which puts you in a better spot than people who aren’t doing the right thing, but are waiting for their hearts to be transformed before they start stepping up to their moral responsibilities.

I see your point but…

As I’ve said before, it’s not what you do, it’s why you do it. Big or small doesn’t matter. Or does the amount of times.

Our Lord is telling us that your spiritual life can easy and simple, unlike your secular life. Is all you have to do is answer two questions: What are you looking for and why?

Mark