"Come unto Me, all ye that labor 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. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light."
In this precious and well- known passage we have two points which are very distinct, and yet intimately connected; namely, Christ and His yoke. We have, first, coming to Christ and its results; second, taking His yoke and its results. "Come unto Me,... and / will give you rest." "Take My yoke... and ye shall find rest." These things, being distinct, should never be confounded; and, being intimately connected, they should never be separated. To confound them is to dim the luster of divine grace; to separate them is to infringe upon the claims of divine holiness. Both these evils should be carefully guarded against.
There are many who hold up before the eye of the "heavy laden" sinner the yoke of Christ as something which he must "take on" ere his burdened heart can taste of that blessed rest which Christ gives to all who simply come unto Him just as they are. The passage before us does not teach this. It puts Christ first, and His yoke afterward. It does not hide Christ behind His yoke, but rather places Him, in all His attractive grace, before the heart as the One who can meet every need, remove every weight, hush every guilty fear, fill up every blank, satisfy every longing desire-in a word, One who is able to do as He says He will, even to give "rest." There are no conditions proposed, no demands made, no barriers erected. The simple, touching, winning word is, "Come." It is not, "Go"; "Do"; "Give"; "Bring"; "Feel"; "Realize." No; it is, "Come." And how are we to "Come"? Just as we are. To whom are we to "Come"? To Jesus. When are we to "Come"? Now.
Observe, then, we are to come just as we are. We are not to wait for the purpose of altering a single jot or tittle of our state, condition, or character. To do this would be to "come" to some alteration or improvement in ourselves, whereas Christ distinctly and emphatically says, "Come unto Me." Many souls err on this point. They think they must mend their ways, alter their course, or improve their moral condition, ere they come to Christ; whereas in point of fact, until they really do come to Christ they cannot amend or alter or improve anything. There is no warrant whatever for anyone to believe that he will be a single whit better an hour, a day, a month, or a year hence, than he is at this moment. And even were he better, he would not on that account be a whit more welcome to Christ than he is now. There is no such thing as an offer of salvation tomorrow. The word is, "To-day if ye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts." Heb. 3:1515While it is said, To day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts, as in the provocation. (Hebrews 3:15). "Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation." 2 Cor. 6:22(For he saith, I have heard thee in a time accepted, and in the day of salvation have I succored thee: behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.) (2 Corinthians 6:2).
There is nothing more certain than that all who have ever tried the self-improvement plan have found it an utter failure. They have begun in darkness, continued in misery, and ended in despair. And yet, strange to say, in view of the numberless beacons which are ranged before us in terrible array to warn us of the folly and danger of traveling that road, we are sure at the first to adopt it. In some way or another self is looked to and wrought upon in order to procure a warrant to come to Christ. "They, being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God." Rom. 10:33For they being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God. (Romans 10:3). Nothing can possibly be a more dreary, depressing, hopeless task than "going about to establish their own righteousness." Indeed, the dreariness of the task must ever be commensurate with the earnestness and sincerity of the soul that undertakes it. Such a one will, assuredly, have sooner or later to give utterance to the cry, "0 wretched man that I am!" and also to ask the question, "Who shall deliver me?" Rom. 7:2424O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? (Romans 7:24). There can be no exception. All with whom the Spirit of God has ever wrought, have in one way or another been constrained to own the hopelessness of seeking to work out a righteousness for themselves.
The Lord Jesus does not say, "Come unto My yoke." No; but, "Come unto Me." We must cease from our own works in every shape and form, and come to Christ- come just as we are-come now. We come to Christ and get rest from and in Him before ever we hear a word about the "yoke." To put the yoke first is to displace everything. If a "heavy laden" sinner thinks of the yoke, he must be overwhelmed by the thought of his own total inability to take it upon him or carry it. But when he comes to Jesus and enters into His precious rest, he finds the "yoke is easy," and the burden "light."
This conducts us to the second point in our subject; namely, the "yoke." It has been already observed that we must keep the two things distinct. To confound them is to tarnish the heavenly luster of the grace of Christ, and to put a yoke upon the sinner's neck, and a burden upon his shoulder which he, as being "without strength," is wholly unable to bear. But then they are morally connected. All who come to Christ must take His yoke upon them and learn of Him if they would "find rest" unto their souls. To come to Christ is one thing; to walk with Him, or learn of Him, is quite another. Christ was "meek and lowly in heart." He could meet the most adverse and discouraging circumstances with an "Even so, Father."
John the Baptist's heart might fail amid the heavy clouds which gathered around him in Herod's dungeon; the men of that generation might refuse the double testimony of righteousness and grace as furnished by the ministry of John and of our Lord Himself; Bethsaida, Chorazin, and Capernaum might refuse the testimony of His mighty works-a torrent of works which one might suppose would sweep away every opposing barrier. All these things and many more might cross the path of the divine Workman, but, being "meek and lowly in heart," He could say, "I thank Thee, O Father;... even so, Father; for so it seemed good in Thy sight." His "rest" in the Father's counsels was profound and perfect; and He invites us to take His yoke, to learn of Him, to drink into His spirit, to know the practical results of a subject mind, that so we may "find rest" unto our souls. A broken will is the real ground of the rest which we are to "find" after we have come to Christ. If God wills one thing, and we will another, we cannot find rest in that. It matters not what the scene or circumstances may be. We may swell a list of things to any imaginable extent in which our will may run counter to the will of God; but, in whatever it is, we cannot find rest as long as our will is unbroken. We must get to the end of self in the matter of will, or else we shall not find rest.
This, my beloved reader, is deep, real, earnest, personal work. Moreover, it is a daily thing. It is a continual taking of Christ's yoke upon us, and learning of Him. It is not that we take the yoke in order to come to Christ. No; but we come to Christ first, and then, when His love fills and satisfies our souls, when His rest refreshes our spirits, when we can gaze by faith upon His gracious countenance, and see Him stooping down to confer upon us the high and holy privilege of bearing His yoke and learning His lesson, we find that His yoke is indeed easy, and His burden light. Unsubdued, unjudged, unmortified nature could never wear that yoke or bear that burden. The first thing is, "Come unto Me,... and I will give you rest." The second thing is, "Take My yoke upon you,... and ye shall find rest."