Come to Jesus: Rest for the Restless

July 17, 2025 - Thursday of the Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Matthew 11:28–30

Few people knew struggle like Abraham Lincoln. He lost eight elections. He went bankrupt—twice. His beloved fiancée died young. He suffered a nervous breakdown that left him bedridden for six months. And yet, through loss and failure, Lincoln kept going. After one crushing defeat, he reportedly said:

“The road was narrow and bumpy. I stumbled and fell. I stood up and said to myself: ‘It is just a fall. It is not over yet.’”

Somehow, this man who had every reason to give up found strength—not just in himself, but in God. He praised God and kept moving forward. In 1860, he was elected President of the United States, and today he’s remembered as one of the greatest leaders in American history.

That same spirit echoes in the invitation we hear from Jesus today:

“Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

Jesus doesn’t offer escape. He offers rest. Not rest from responsibility, but rest for the soul.

Saint Augustine put it this way:

“You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

We live in a restless world—racing from task to task, expectation to expectation. Many of us are standing at life’s crossroads, wondering which road to take. Jeremiah once wrote:

“Ask for the ancient paths… ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Jer. 6:16)

Jesus is that good way. He’s not just a teacher or a guide—He is the Way (John 14:6). He leads us to still waters, refreshes our souls, and gives us strength we didn’t know we had (Psalm 23).

But rest comes with a surprising condition:

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.” (Matt. 11:29)

A yoke is a work tool. But Jesus contrasts two kinds of yokes. There is the bitter yoke of slavery—slavery to sin, fear, and performance. And then there is the yoke of grace. The yoke of love. It may demand much at first, but eventually, it brings joy and freedom.

Early Christian writers like Clement of Rome spoke of this “sweet yoke” that Jesus offers. Yes, it asks us to turn away from sin. Yes, it may call for sacrifice. But it leads to life. And the one who carries it is not alone—Jesus is beside us, bearing the weight.

“Learn from me,” He says, “for I am meek and humble of heart.”

Meekness and humility are not signs of weakness. Moses, the greatest leader of Israel, was called “exceedingly meek.” David, the mighty king, described himself as lowly. These were strong men—but not proud. They knew their strength came from God.

Pope Benedict XVI once said that conquerors come and go, but the meek remain. They don’t seize power—they receive it. They inherit the earth (Matt. 5:5). And the humble? God gives them grace (1 Peter 5:5).

So today, the invitation still stands. From a King who doesn’t shout but whispers. From a Savior whose strength is in gentleness. From the One who knows what it means to carry a burden.

He says to each of us:

Come.

Take my yoke.

Learn from me.

And you will find rest for your soul.

Will we come?