Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time: Matthew 11:25-30
One day in early spring, I somehow caught a bad stomach flu. It began one evening with some stomach cramps. Then came that feeling that things were about to work in reverse, if you know what I mean. I needed to get to the bathroom, and quickly. That was the first of several experiences of multiple vomiting that I had that night. “Unpleasant” doesn’t begin to describe it! The next day, I felt totally depleted. It took a great deal of willpower to get myself to do anything.
A couple of days later, I began to feel restless. To me, that was a good sign. My energy was beginning to return, and was looking for an outlet. I wasn’t yet ready for my normal routine, but the worst of that flu was certainly over. My restlessness was the first positive sign of that. At times, that is what our times of restlessness mean. Our bodies simply have some excess energy that needs an outlet of some kind.
Restlessness can come to us in many ways. One way is through a sense of confinement, or of being in a situation with very limited options: someone sick in a hospital bed. Someone locked in a prison cell. Someone else doing a repetitive job that feels boring and pointless. Another way is through a feeling that we have made a wrong turn in our lives somewhere along the way, and that we’re not really doing what we are meant to do. Sometimes restlessness can come to us even when everything seems to be fine in our lives. In such cases, we can’t pin down what the restlessness is all about. What’s wrong? What’s missing? Or is it just something that comes and goes without any rhyme or reason?
Every now and then, at the very least, our feelings of restlessness may be symptoms of something deeper, something we can barely name or even acknowledge. There is a kind of undertow, deep in our minds, that whispers to us that we are worthless and that all we do is in vain. Some of us may have actually gotten that message, quite literally, from some people in our past. But even if we didn’t, that fear of emptiness and worthlessness haunts us. We are determined to be “significant others” for everyone in our lives – our families, our workplaces, our parishes, our communities of every kind. And yet, how often do we end up feeling that all our efforts get us nowhere and are not appreciated or even seen? We want to make a difference in the lives of all we meet. Yet, how often we feel that we don’t. How often are we tempted to think that, in the end, life is absurd and pointless, and that nothing we do matters in the end?
So, we feel restless. We feel this deep itch that we want to scratch in some way. And scratch, we do. Some of us try narcissism. We seek to make a name for ourselves. Our egos become like leaky balloons that always need more air – more achievements, more praise, more “spin”. We try to prove to everyone else – and to ourselves – that we are “something” after all. Others double down on work and service. If we only do more; if we only make ourselves useful and indispensable, we will have meaning in our lives. We will be worth something. We will make a difference. Still others go the addictive route. They try alcohol and other drugs. They try buying more and more things, or eating more and more. They try daredevil behavior. They try internet pornography or multiple affairs. A few may try violence, even mass shootings. All of these have this element of trying to rebel against a creeping feeling of worthlessness, emptiness and depression. All of these seek to create some reaction in us, some “buzz”, that will show us that we’re still alive. All of these seek, in a twisted sense, to ‘make a difference’ in the world around us, even if that difference is a negative one. Even those who may feel driven to despair and end up harming or even killing themselves are often caught up in those same feelings of worthlessness and emptiness, to the point that suicide is the only “difference” they feel they can make. It is little wonder that a number of authors in the last century or so, like Sartre and Camus, concluded that life is ultimately absurd and meaningless. All we can do, they say, is accept this meaninglessness and learn to cope as best we can.
But is that the message that restlessness has for us? Could it be trying to say something else to us, but we just aren’t getting it? Could it be that the answers we find in the world around us only make things worse, not better?
When we begin to search the Scriptures for help, we may at first find something like Qoheleth’s declaration in the book of Ecclesiastes: “Vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!” At first, that only appears to confirm that sense of worthlessness that has been creeping up on us. Or does it?
What if we pair Qoheleth’s statement with this line from Psalm 127: “If the Lord does not build the house, in vain do the builders labor”? And, what if we add this quote from Psalm 37:
“Trust in the Lord and do good, that you may dwell in the land and live secure. Find your delight in the Lord who will give you your heart’s desire. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will act, and make your righteousness shine like the dawn… Be still before the Lord and wait for him… those who wait for the Lord will inherit the earth”.
If we reflect on these lines, we soon realize what has happened. We believed that it was totally up to us to make a difference in the world. We believed that it was through our efforts alone that change would come. We believed that our sense of worth came only from our successes at making a difference on our own. Therefore, when our own efforts alone were not enough, we felt worthless. We believed that life was pointless and absurd. We felt the temptation to act out in some way, in order to recover some sense that we were truly alive and significant.
But we forgot the one necessary thing. It is the Lord who builds the house.
“Making a difference”, as we say, is God’s work. The earth is the Lord’s, and our faith tells us that God is gradually bringing about his will for all of creation. Those who boast of themselves will fade away. This does not mean that we do nothing. Saints, after all, are busy people. But it does mean that we are freed from the need to see immediate results for our work and ministry. The results aren’t up to us in the end. It is God, at work in and through our work, who plants seeds and causes them to bud and grow.
That is why Jesus invites us to come and learn from him, and why he assures us that his yoke is easy and his burden light, and that we will indeed find rest for ourselves. By placing our trust in him, we are no longer slaves to results. The salvation of the world doesn’t depend on you or me. But that doesn’t mean that we sit back and do nothing. We can actually do more now than we could before, because we know that the results don’t depend on our efforts alone. We needn’t fear our limitations, or fear that we might somehow mess things up. The Lord seems to love to work through human weakness – witness the Cross as Exhibit A. As Psalm 37 assures us: “Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will act”.
How do we act, we might ask? Jesus tells us: “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart”. Be yoked together with me, Jesus tells us. Learn of me. See how I do things. See my humble attitude. Live your lives in the same way. As I trusted in the Father, so, you too can learn to trust in the Father. I will be with you. Always. My Spirit will empower and guide you.
So, what is our restlessness trying to tell us in the end? First of all, “Vanity of vanities!” The usual ways that the world addresses its itches are all in vain. They only make us feel worse. They only add to the restlessness and worthlessness that stalk us beyond the corner of our vision. Don’t scratch the itch in those ways. Stop. Listen. Let the restlessness speak. Secondly, our restlessness is an invitation from the Lord: “Come to me, and you will find rest”. In other words, you will find meaning, purpose, direction, and worth. All these are already given you, through the Lord’s grace. You have only to say yes and trust in the Lord. Finally, our restlessness is prophetic. It tells us that we aren’t finished yet, and that we can’t finish ourselves. The world can’t finish us. Only God can bring what God has begun in each of us to its completion. Our restlessness is ultimately our deepest yearning for the Lord. Don’t waste it on anything else. As Augustine once said, “Our hearts are restless, O Lord, until they find rest in you”.