Jesus’ Easy Yoke: Finding Rest When Life Feels Heavy

 14 Sunday of Ordinary Time

Jesus does not promise a life without responsibilities, but he does promise rest to those who carry their burdens with him. When our work and duties are motivated by love of God and neighbour, the weight of these burdens is transformed. The Mass, like the Sabbath, helps us remember our deepest identity and the true purpose behind all that we do.

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I think a lot of us can feel quite tired at times. We can feel burdened, and not just physically, but also inside, interiorly. Life can feel like one responsibility after another, one deadline after another. We can be burdened by many different things: responsibilities at work, family responsibilities, health struggles, and even responsibilities in our volunteer work at the church. We can feel burdened. We can feel really tired.

Technology was supposed to relieve a lot of this burden and stress. But when we think about it, perhaps it has even added to it. It has added more emails, more messages to respond to, and more social media to keep up with. Recently, Gallup released its State of the Global Workplace: 2026 report, which found that 40% of employees globally experienced a lot of stress the previous day. Many people are burdened and stressed. And it is not just people who are working. Students also carry a heavy burden. Young people, too, can feel increasingly weighed down.

For this reason, the Gospel today is very relevant and very appealing. It holds out to us a great promise. Jesus says to us in the Gospel from Matthew: “Come to me, all you who labour and are burdened, and I will give you rest.”

That rest is something we desire. We desire for the burden to be removed. And yet, when we look closely at Jesus’ message, he presents us with something of a paradox. Jesus does not promise us a life without responsibility or a life without work. However, and this is very important, Jesus promises us that when we are motivated by the right things, especially love of God and love of neighbour, then our burdens become less heavy. They become something that we bear with Christ.

Let us begin with the example of Jesus himself. In the Gospel, Jesus tells us, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Really? Is that really the case for Jesus?

Let us look at what is happening in the context. Right before this, Jesus has been in a variety of towns: Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum. He has been working very hard. His burden does not seem very light. He has been teaching people about God. He has been healing people. He has also been rejected by many people. An easy yoke? A light burden? It does not immediately seem to be the case.

Immediately after this, Jesus will continue on the path that leads to Jerusalem, to his passion and death. His responsibilities seem very weighty indeed. How, then, can he say that his yoke is easy? What makes his burden light? How can he promise us rest?

Within the Gospel we heard today, we find an indication. It is all about what is in Jesus’ heart. Jesus says, “Learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart.” And right before this, he praises God his Father for all the goodness and blessings that he gives.

This is central. Jesus has many responsibilities. Jesus has a difficult path. But for him, this burden is made light because his heart is motivated by love. He does everything out of love for God and love for neighbour. Jesus teaches us this same path. When we live in this way, our yoke becomes easier, and we find rest in Christ.

Later in Matthew’s Gospel, in chapter 23, Jesus compares his way to the way of some other teachers and scribes. Jesus says that they “tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders.” In other words, there are some teachers who act out of pride, who want to be seen, praised, esteemed, and placed on a pedestal. They are looking out for themselves.

When we live in that way, the work we do becomes burdensome and tiring. But when we do things with a spirit of love and service, the responsibilities and duties we carry become more manageable. It is then that we experience the rest that Jesus promises us.

We all experience challenges. Jesus does not promise simply to take these away. But when we carry them with love, with service, and with a clear sense of why we do what we do, they become lighter. There is an expression you may have heard before: “The load is heavy, but love changes its weight.” Love changes the weight.

Think, for example, of a parent caring for a young child, getting up frequently at night to care for that child. That is not easy. It is a huge responsibility. But because it is done out of love and care for the child, the burden becomes lighter. When we know why we do what we do, then we begin to experience the rest and the lighter yoke that Jesus gives.

We are trying to do what we do for love of God and love of others. We are trying to do it in a spirit of service. And it is in this way that we journey with Christ, and Christ helps us lift these weighty responsibilities.

Each and every week, when we come here to Mass, we have an opportunity to remind ourselves of this “why,” the purpose for which we do things, the reason behind our responsibilities and work, and the reason these burdens can become lighter.

There are many reasons we come to Mass on Sunday or Saturday evening. We come to gather as a community, to listen to God’s word, and to receive Jesus in Holy Communion. But we can also learn another reason why it is so important to come to Mass. It has to do with what we call living the Sabbath.

Here, I think, we can learn a lesson from our Jewish brothers and sisters. For many of them, the Sabbath is taken very seriously. I remember many years ago, when I was studying in Jerusalem, every Friday evening, about an hour before the Sabbath began, an alarm would sound throughout the city. It alerted people that the Sabbath was about to begin.

Of course, Sabbath means rest. For many Jewish people, this means not doing any work on the Sabbath. But when you speak to a devout Jew, the Sabbath is not simply a breather from the work of the week. It is not just a moment to step back, relax, and store up strength for the week ahead.

The Sabbath is not merely a rest day. The Sabbath is the most important day, because on the Sabbath, you remember why you do what you do for the rest of the week. You remember your truest identity. You remember which relationships matter most.

In the book of Exodus, after the people have been liberated from slavery in Egypt, they are commanded to celebrate the Sabbath each week as a day of rest. Why? Because the Sabbath reminds them that they are not slaves. God has liberated them. God loves them. God has formed them into a community.

The Sabbath is a day to remember the relationships and truths that are most important: our relationship with God, our relationship with family members, our relationship with friends, and the fact that we are bound together in love and called to serve others.

This is also what we are doing when we come to Mass. Of course, Mass can sometimes feel like a burden, and we can be tempted to leave it behind. But coming to Mass each Sunday is an opportunity to remember our deepest identity. We are God’s beloved children. We are a family of faith. We are reminded of our call to serve. And even more than this, in the Mass, we receive the strength to do it: to serve God and to serve our neighbour.

Jesus does not promise us a life free from responsibilities, duties, or struggles. But Jesus does promise us the grace to transform them. Jesus promises us rest. Jesus promises us a lighter yoke.

Let us remind ourselves today of this important truth that we see in the life of Christ himself. Jesus did so much. He did not have an easy path, and neither do we at times. But when we remember the love that God has for us, and when we remember that we do what we do out of love for God and love for neighbour, it is then that we experience the light yoke and the rest that Christ promises.

Hospitality: Welcoming Christ in the Stranger

 13 Sunday OT, Year A

As Vancouver welcomes the world during the World Cup, the readings invite us to reflect on the deeper Christian meaning of hospitality. From the Shunammite woman who welcomes Elisha, to St. Benedict, St. Vincent de Paul, Dorothy Day, and Pope Francis, the Church teaches that in welcoming the stranger, the poor, and the person who is different from us, we welcome Christ himself. Christian hospitality begins when we stop seeing others as interruptions, threats, or problems, and begin receiving them as gifts to be encountered.

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Looking around, I think a lot of us are praying extra hard this morning, because Canada will be playing soon in the World Cup. It has been such an enjoyable time for Canada, and especially for Vancouver, to host the World Cup.

Last week, I spoke about the way emotions are on display during the World Cup. Today, I would like to speak about another theme that is front and centre during this time: hospitality, or welcome.

We see the signs everywhere: “Vancouver welcomes the world.” “Vancouver hosts the world.” And, of course, during this time, Vancouver is trying very hard to be hospitable, to welcome all the different visitors who are here. I think Vancouver is doing a good job of it.

But hospitality is not just an important human virtue or value. It is something very close to the heart of God. This comes across clearly in the first reading and in the Gospel today.

In the first reading from the Book of Kings, we hear a wonderful story about the prophet Elisha. Elisha is the successor of Elijah, and he works all kinds of miracles and wonders. He is truly a strong and powerful prophet.

But the woman in the town of Shunem does not really know Elisha very well. She only has hints, perhaps an intuition, that he is an important person. And one of the questions in this story is: who is the true hero? Is it Elisha, this strong and mighty prophet? Or is it, as the author seems to suggest, the Shunammite woman?

In the Book of Kings, we find that as powerful and important as Elisha is, the Shunammite woman is also presented as a person of great importance, because she provides hospitality to Elisha and his servant, even though she does not fully know who he is. She treats them with respect, care, and welcome. And for this reason, she is blessed by the Lord.

In fact, in the Hebrew text, she is called an ishah gedolah, a great woman, a woman of standing and importance. The Shunammite woman is seen as someone of great value and honour because of the hospitality and welcome that she provides to Elisha, whom she does not yet know as this mighty prophet.

In the Gospel today, this theme of hospitality and welcome is deepened even further because of the Incarnation. Jesus teaches that welcoming the stranger, caring for those in need, and making space in our lives for those who are not familiar to us is so important because, in welcoming them, we welcome not only another human being; we welcome Christ himself.

As we heard in the Gospel, Jesus repeats this in various ways: those who welcome you welcome me. Those who show hospitality to you show hospitality to me. Those who give even a cup of water to one of these little ones do so for me.

In Christianity, then, hospitality is deeply important. When we show hospitality and welcome to the stranger, we do it to Jesus.

This has been emphasized by many saints throughout Christian history. Again and again, we see this theme: in showing hospitality to others, we show hospitality to Christ.

I would like to give three examples.

The first is St. Benedict of Nursia. St. Benedict, who lived around the year 500, is famous for being the founder of Western monasticism. He wrote a very important document called the Rule of St. Benedict, a way of life for monks that is still followed to this day by Benedictine communities of both men and women.

For example, nearby we have the Benedictine monks in Mission, and they continue to follow the Rule of St. Benedict.

In the Rule, St. Benedict wrote: “All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ.” Those who come to the monastery, even if they simply arrive for a visit, are to be treated as Christ. The guest is to be received as Jesus himself.

About a thousand years later, we can look at another great example: St. Vincent de Paul. St. Vincent de Paul was famous for his works of charity, caring for the poor, the sick, the suffering, refugees, migrants, and those in need.

St. Vincent also recognized that there can sometimes seem to be a tension between prayer and charity. What do we do if our works of charity, if our acts of hospitality, seem to interrupt our time of prayer?

St. Vincent wrote the following: “If a needy person requires medicine or other help during prayer time, do whatever has to be done with peace of mind. Offer the deed to God as your prayer. Do not become upset or feel guilty because you interrupted your prayer to serve the poor. God is not neglected if you leave him for such service. One of God’s works is merely interrupted so that another can be carried out.”

St. Vincent proclaims this important truth: hospitality is not a distraction from loving God. It is one of the ways we love God. It is an important way of following Jesus’ commandment to love our neighbour.

In more recent times, we can look at the example of Dorothy Day, who died in 1980 and helped found the Catholic Worker Movement. She and others established houses of hospitality, places where the poor, the hungry, the homeless, and the forgotten could be welcomed.

Dorothy Day once wrote that in the early Christian tradition, “a room was kept ready for any stranger who might ask for shelter.” It was called “the stranger’s room,” not because the person who came reminded them of Christ, but because, as she put it, “plain and simple and stupendous fact,” he or she was Christ.

Hospitality, then, is so important. Showing care to people who are new, people who are different from us, people who are in need, is a way of showing care to Christ.

Pope Francis liked to describe this virtue of hospitality as part of a broader “culture of encounter.”

For Pope Francis, a culture of encounter was not simply about being friendly, or even about helping those in need, as important as that is. He wanted us to see every person, especially those in need, those who are different from us, those of a different culture, background, or way of life, not as problems or challenges, but as gifts to be encountered.

Every human being, especially those whom we might not instinctively see as part of our community, is a gift. We are called to encounter them, to get to know them, to make space for them, and to recognize the presence of God within them.

Pope Francis described a culture of encounter as being “passionate about meeting others, seeking points of contact, building bridges, planning a project that includes everyone.”

There are many ways we can promote this culture of encounter, this culture of hospitality, in our own lives.

When we see people who are new to our community, whether here in church, in our workplace, in our school, or simply out in the wider community, we can choose not to look at them with suspicion or nervousness. Instead, we can be curious. Who is this person? Where do they come from? What is their story? Can I treat them as a gift? Can I recognize the presence of God within them?

We are also very aware of the needs of those in our community who are unhoused, hungry, or struggling. Of course, we have organizations that assist, such as our St. Vincent de Paul group. And when we encounter someone in need, we may rightly think, “I need to do something to help.” But we should never lose sight of their humanity. We are not simply encountering a problem to be solved. We are encountering a person.

We also often come across people who think differently from us, who have a different religious viewpoint, a different political viewpoint, a different background, or a different way of life. Sometimes we may be tempted to exclude them from our lives, or to look at them with suspicion.

Pope Francis would encourage us to be curious, to listen, to get to know the person, to see them as a gift in themselves, and even more, to see Christ within them.

The readings today promote this great virtue of hospitality. For us as Christians, hospitality is so important because when we show care to the stranger, to those in need, to those who are not yet part of our family or community, we show care to Christ.

And as Pope Francis teaches us, the first step in building a culture of encounter is to stop seeing other people as threats, inconveniences, problems to be solved, or differences to be feared. Instead, we are called to see each person we encounter as a gift.

Christian hospitality is not simply making room for others. It is making room for Christ, who often comes to us in the stranger, the poor, the newcomer, and the person who interrupts our plans.

Why We Should Not Be Afraid: Jesus, Fear, and the Love of the Father

 12 Sunday Ordinary Time, year A

Fear is a natural part of human life, but it can become harmful when it holds us back from loving God, loving others, and following Christ more fully. In the Gospel, Jesus reminds us that God is a loving Father who knows us intimately, cares for us deeply, and sees even the smallest details of our lives. Because we are held in the Father’s love, we can bring our fears to him with trust and hear again the words of Jesus: do not be afraid.

Listen to homily here:

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So, who do you think will win the World Cup? It is dangerous to ask that question, so I am not going to get into that debate here. But hopefully you have been able to see some footage on television, or perhaps you have been able to go downtown and experience the atmosphere. I was walking downtown the other day, and it was really charged and exciting. Yes, perhaps we can look at it and say that it is a bit commercial, but there is something special there too: the world coming together, a sense of unity.

When I was there and saw everyone gathered together, what struck me was the emotion. There was so much emotion on display at the World Cup: joy, hope, and even fear, perhaps fear that the team you support will not do as well as you hope. Emotions are part of what makes us human. They are central to who we are. But there is one particular emotion that I think we struggle with, and it is an emotion displayed in the Gospel today, an emotion Jesus speaks about: fear.

We can be afraid of many things, some important and some not so important. But all of us have fears. In the first reading today, we hear about the prophet Jeremiah. Jeremiah had a very difficult mission. He is often called the weeping prophet. He was alive in Jerusalem just before Babylon came to destroy the city. He tried again and again to warn the people, but they would not listen. Instead, they listened to false prophets. They imprisoned Jeremiah and turned against him. In the first reading, Jeremiah is afraid, not only for his own safety, but also for what might happen to his beloved people. He experiences the emotion of fear very profoundly.

In the responsorial psalm today, we also hear one of those psalms that speaks about a righteous person suffering unjustly, someone rejected and scorned. This person also experiences fear.

In our own lives, we can experience fear about many things. We can be afraid of a health struggle, either our own or that of someone we care about. We can be afraid of losing our jobs, or afraid that we will not find work. We can be afraid that certain relationships will not work out in the way we hope. And yes, we can even be afraid that our favourite team will not win the World Cup.

Fear is a very human and natural emotion. Do you think Jesus was ever afraid? Did he experience fear? I think when we look at the Gospels, we can see that he did. Jesus was truly human. In the Incarnation, we believe that Jesus is like us in all things but sin. Before he died, Jesus went to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. There, he experienced fear, worry, and difficulty. Yes, he surrendered everything to his Father, but he truly experienced these emotions that we also experience.

Fear is a normal and natural part of being human. At times, fear can even help us. Some of you may have seen footage of the free climber Alex Honnold. A few years ago, he free soloed El Capitan in Yosemite National Park. That means he climbed this enormous rock face with no ropes. Did any of you see that? I did not, because I am terrified of heights. I cannot watch that. Recently, he did something similar on a skyscraper. Again, I could not watch it.

For him, he is able to face his fear in an extraordinary way. But I am terrified of heights. If I am on a high building, I cannot really look over a ledge if it is too low. That fear, of course, is meant to protect us in some way. It helps us avoid things that might harm us. Fear can guard us from danger and difficulty. In that sense, fear can be helpful.

The problem comes when our fears get away from us, when they prevent us from doing good things in our lives, and ultimately when they prevent us from loving God and neighbour more fully. In the Gospel today, Jesus addresses this kind of fear and gives us a beautiful truth, a hopeful message, about how we can keep our fears in check.

Jesus proclaims that we have a God who is a Father, a God who is not distant from us, but who cares for us intimately. Jesus uses the image of sparrows. Sparrows were so plentiful and could be purchased for a small amount. They may not have seemed very valuable to people, but Jesus says that even these sparrows are watched over and cared for by God. How much more, then, does God care for each one of us?

Everything we do is under God’s notice. God is always caring for us. For this reason, we should not be afraid. God is a Father who loves us.

This weekend, as we celebrate Father’s Day, we can consider how the love of our own fathers, grandfathers, and father figures can reflect the love of God, a love that cares for us and protects us. God is a loving Father who knows all that is happening in our lives. For this reason, we should not be afraid.

Jesus also shows us in the Gospel that some of the things we fear, some of the things that might harm us, will not be able to harm us forever. God, in his plan, may allow certain things to continue for a time, but Jesus says that eventually they will come to an end. God is a righteous judge. All that is hidden will be revealed. Evil will not be allowed to continue indefinitely. God is loving, and God has a plan for us.

Fear has a place in our lives, but we should be careful that it does not overcome us or prevent us from living the life of joy, goodness, and discipleship that Christ calls us to live.

At this Mass, let us reflect in our hearts: what causes me fear? What holds me back from following Jesus fully? Is there some area in my life where fear can paralyze me? At this Mass, let us bring these fears to the Lord. As we do so, let us remember that God truly is a loving Father. God is always there, caring for us. Let us recommit ourselves to the hope that God is always there to help us. For this reason, we should not be afraid.