The Louisiana Quaker eLetter

ISSN 1523-4924—Vol. 1, No. 12

"THE YOKE"

The yoke, a simple instrument for binding beasts of burden together, appears several times in both Old and New Testaments. In the Old Testament, it is used in a figurative sense for the oppression the Jews suffered as captives in Egypt [Lev. 26:13], as slaves to foreigners [Jer. 30:8], for the burden placed on the Jews by their enemies [Isaiah 9:4; 10:27; Jer. 28:2, 4, 10], for their responsibilities toward God [Jer. 2:20; 5:5], for one's sins [Lam. 1:14], and for the lessons of the past [Lam. 3:27]. In each case the yoke figuratively serves to increase the burden they normally carried by their attachment to some other object and by having them work with it side by side. While the yoke can be seen as a good thing, as in the case of the Torah [Jer. 2:20; 5:5], more often it is not.

In the New Testament, the yoke appears four times—twice for the Torah (Law), once for Christ's new relationship with believers, and once for our duties to others as Christians.

Jesus used the yoke as a positive symbol for the strength he would bring to our voluntary relationship with him. By putting on his yoke, we will not find more work, but instead rest:

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." [Matt. 11:28-30]

Through salvation in Christ, our partnership with the Lord will mean a sharing of the human burdens we ordinarily carry. He will teach us how to make it through life, as we learn from a heart that is gentle, without urgency or impatience, from a heart that is humble and free of arrogance and self-serving interests. Christ's yoke, evocative of the yoke of the Torah (Law), is by contrast easy and without added labor.

This new yoke of Christ also frees us from the weight of the Law. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul cautions them not to let themselves be "burdened again by a yoke of slavery" by again following after the Torah [Gal. 5:1]. Christ's yoke is also a standard of behavior. Again in Galatians Paul says:

"Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." [Gal. 6:1-2]

Although each of us is to "carry his own load" [Gal. 6:5], we are also to carry each other's burdens, to share the load with them as needed. We are to tolerate and support our weaker spiritual friends [Rom. 15:1], but we are not to get so close to the weight of their burdens as to make it our personal load to carry. If nothing else, it would bring us too close to common temptation.

For this reason, too, Paul cautions us: "Do not be yoked together with unbelievers" [2 Cor. 6:14]. To carry a yoke with unbelievers (non-Christians) is to bind ourselves morally to persons who believe that the sufficiency for their solutions lies outside of a relationship with Christ. After all, this was our expectation before our life in Christ. As a consequence, we can plunge into repairing their problems using a language and behavior that is pertinent to our unspiritual friends, to the life and culture of a world to which we no longer belong. We really do become beasts of burden again, trying to pull our duties (and also those of others) with human effort alone. When Paul says not to be yoked with our unspiritual friends, he is at least telling us this: What the unbeliever needs is not to be yoked with us, but to put on the new yoke of Christ.

—Merle Harton, Jr., The Louisiana Quaker

All biblical references are NIV unless otherwise noted.

BOOK for the month:

The Clouded Quaker Star: James Nayler, 1618 to 1660.  By Vera Massey. Friends United Press/Sessions Book Trust, 1999. ISBN 0-944350-46-1 (US); ISBN 1-85072-224-2 (UK).

The story of James Nayler is just plain heartbreaking. Nayler was one of the rising stars of the early Quaker movement in 17th-century England. He was a respected soldier in Cromwell's army, a husband and father, a Christian called to dedicated service totally apart from home and family, a convinced Friend and noted Quaker leader, a powerful speaker and writer, and someone who enjoyed the company and affection of Quaker founder George Fox. So how did he get from this fine situation to trial by Parliament, convicted of "Horrid Blasphemy," pilloried, scourged, burned through his tongue with a hot poker, fire branded with a capital "B" on his forehead, and tossed into prison indefinitely? How did he go from prominence in the Society of Friends, once described as "the chief Quaker," to being touted as the "King of Israel" and "Son of God"? What possessed him to ride into Bristol with a fanatical entourage proclaiming him Christ returned? Who is Martha Simmonds and what role did she play in the tumultuous divisions in the early Quaker movement? The answers to such questions really make this story one of the strangest tales of a Christian martyr in our history.

It is no wonder, then, that Massey wants to retell this small piece of history. Nayler's story, both poignant and weird, has an undercurrent of sex and scandal, madness and intrigue, abandonment and reconciliation, and the bitterest of ironies.

Massey relates the drama in a narrative style that enlivens the main characters, highlights the dangers that Nayler unwittingly brought upon the nascent Quaker movement, and brings the whole into a useful historical perspective. She writes for the non-academic reader, placing her reference sources in a final summary chapter, but covers the key events and figures with a scholar's heedfulness. This fine book succeeds in bringing together the several sensational historical elements into a taut biographical picture of a new faith community imperiled by human frailty. - MCH

Join Our Mailing List! - Receive the exclusive New Quaker eLetter by e-mail. The New Quaker eLetter is distributed free of charge as an electronic letter of Christian Quaker opinion.

Copyright © 1999 by Merle Harton, Jr.