Let Go

Let Go

Matthew 11:28-30

Have you ever heard how people catch monkeys? The trappers take a small cage out into the jungle. They place a bunch of bananas in the cage. Then they lock the cage with the bananas inside. A monkey comes along, spots the bananas, reaches through the narrow rungs of the cage and grabs a banana. The problem is that he can't pull his hand back out through the rungs while hanging on to the banana. Even when the trappers approach, he won't let go of his banana. Silly, stubborn monkey… (Hold that thought…)

Eight months ago, I was presiding at Pat Bruce’s memorial service at Lake Forest Place.  Early warnings were being issued about avoiding handshaking and close personal contact.  In the meantime, several hundred people crowded into a room, some shaking hands, some hugging, all to celebrate Pat’s life.  I had no idea that this would be the last time that many of us would be together for months, the last time we would sing a hymn, the last time we would work our way through a buffet line and sit and have a meal.  All I knew was that I was so glad that the service had gone well, that we had laughed and cried together, that comfort had been found in one another’s company.  It was a good day!

Within 24 hours, worship was canceled.  Almost simultaneously, the decision was made to cancel the outreach fundraising raffle dinner.  (The buckets are still in the Fireplace Room, exactly where they were that day.)  One week later, thanks to a lot of help from my daughter, I would stand—utterly terrified- and stare into an iphone camera and lead worship on something called “Facebook Live,” whatever that is.  It was all so utterly disorienting.  I had never even been on Facebook before. It was so hard to let go of how things were supposed to be…which made me quite a stubborn monkey, holding on to the way things used to be.

I think that I speak for all of us when I say that the last few months have been all about struggling to let go of how we think things should be.  If I told you eight months ago that there would be no real 4th of July celebration and not much of a Halloween in Lake Bluff (and no bike races, no Bluffinia concerts, and no Ribfest, too) would you ever have believed me?  If I had told you that shopping at the grocery store and eating at a restaurant and going to school were going to become “risky” activities, would you have believed me? If, back in March, I could have downloaded a picture from the future and shown you everyone shopping in Heinen’s with a mask on, would your jaw have dropped? 

Hardest of all, none of us knew how this would affect us at the most personal levels.  If we are fortunate enough to still be working, we are so grateful.  If we are working from home, chances are it feels like we are working all the time, like we are living at work.  None of us have had the chance to celebrate an uncomplicated birthday or anniversary.  Weddings have been cancelled or reduced in size to the bare minimum number.  “Zoom,” which none of us knew about a few months ago, is now the next best thing to being in person with those we love but it clearly remains a completely distant and entirely unsatisfying second best.  There is a core loneliness among us.  There is a shared grief over the loss of that precious vacation time away or the absence of a simple, uncomplicated evening with a whole group of friends.  Some essential things have slipped from our grasp.

Now, Thanksgiving is just around the corner.  Do we have to let that go, too?  This is a cherished time with family and friends.  Trust me:  no one loves Thanksgiving more than me!  I have gathered for years with thirty other people to deep fry turkeys and watch football and play scrabble and enjoy life.  This year, that’s not happening.  As the pandemic reaches its highest infection rates, gathering like that would be completely reckless.  We have to make the choices that will protect each other.  However, that doesn’t mean that today’s losses aren’t painfully real.

Hold on though… There is another truth that needs to be told, too.  Although almost nothing has happened the way that it was supposed to happen, some amazing things have happened.  Let’s start with the church.  Though worship has been mostly on line for months, more people are “attending” worship than ever before and people are “attending” all around the world.  As the needs of the people have deepened around us this year, the church has helped more people in need than ever before.  As we’ve come to miss being with each other in person so much, don’t you think we’ve also come to realize in a much deeper way just how much the church family means to each of us? Can you imagine the day we get back together?

In a similar sense, aren’t there things that we take for granted all the time in being in Lake Bluff that are valued differently now?  I see so many people walking in Open Lands (many of them lost and looking for directions!) who say, “We never knew this was here!”  Watch the comfort that folks find in walking their dogs around town or families heading down to the lake.   Haven’t you stopped and thought to yourself, “This really is a beautiful place to be!”  How many more sunrises and sunsets have people enjoyed—not because there are any more than usual—but because people are simply paying more attention?

Think about life in your own home.  In a story that was shared with me, a young child piped up one day and said to her family, “You know what’s good about COVID?  We spend more time together!”  It’s true!  While we are cut off from a lot of contact, we have had the chance to settle into our homes and practice things that bring us a little joy:  to spend a some extra time preparing a meal; to enjoy a show together; to sit and talk with one another.  The pace of life has changed.  Of course, all of that is shaped by changing work demands and school arrangements.  However, I think most of us would have to admit that there have been some really nice family times in this mix.

The key to all of this, I think, is our willingness to accept what is beyond our control.  There have always been so many things that happen in life that we would never choose, not just the pandemic.  If we were in charge, everyone we’ve ever loved would be available every time we wanted to gather, the weather would always be perfect and the mashed potatoes and the stuffing and the gravy and the turkey would all be ready to eat at exactly the same time.  What we know but have a hard time admitting or remembering is that we don’t always get our way.  We can either accept our limits with a measure of humor and grace or we can make ourselves and all the people around us miserable and crazy.  If we can practice some acceptance, we might even discover that sometimes what feels out of control or beyond our control can lead to something better than what would have happened had we been in control.

This is what brings me to our text this morning:  “Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”  Rest!  That’s one of the most elusive things during the pandemic.  A lot of people are feeling sleep deprived and sleep disordered.  A lot of people are having crazy, vivid dreams.  Why? We are pouring so much energy into trying to manage things, into trying to be safe and making sure that the people we love are safe, into trying to make things seem less strange, that we are on overload.  We are on yellow alert at all times.  Where is the “off switch” for that energy when we lay down at night?  Rest?  That would be amazing!  Where do I sign up?

The impossible burden that most of us carry is the expectation that there really should be some way to make the strangeness of these days be less strange.  Shouldn’t we somehow be able to navigate life in a pandemic as is there is no pandemic at all?  Shouldn’t we at least be able to make it seem that way for our children?  Isn’t there some way we can organize things or some treat we can bake or some chore we can get done that will make everything seem right again?  After eight months, the solid answer would seem to be, “No!” Still, it’s so hard to let go…

This is the burden that we need to lay down.  What was true before the pandemic is true in the midst of it:  we are not the masters of the universe.  We couldn’t make perfect holidays or birthdays or anniversaries before.  We can’t create perfect moments now, either.  We don’t get more control over things just because life became more complicated.  Still, we remain perfectly free to exhaust ourselves.  We can choose to die a thousand deaths trying to make Thanksgiving be a perfect Thanksgiving (though they were never perfect before.)  Or, we can finally let go of our expectations. Yes, Thanksgiving will be different this year.  However, there will be a Thanksgiving.  What might this one be? What if there are good things just waiting to happen if I can get my expectations out of the way?

In our text, Jesus says, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.”  What would that mean? I would have to come to grips with living in Jesus’ way rather holding on to my hope to get my way.  Jesus leads.  We follow.  Jesus’ way starts with simply being present, with noticing the needs of the people around us, with caring and responding to those needs.  Jesus says, “Follow me!” We answer, “Okay…”  Then, almost inevitably, we find ourselves doing something unexpected for someone surprising.  If we are willing to be led on such adventures, the overwhelming experience is usually one of joy—unexpected, unforced joy.  In fact, this discovery of joy is what provides “rest for our souls.”  You see, Jesus isn’t promising a good night’s sleep.  He’s promising that there is a way of being in this world in which we have a shot at meaning and purpose and joy, no matter how hard things become.  We simply have to be humble ourselves, be awake and aware, and care.  We just have to let go…

If I am willing to humble myself and follow Christ’s lead then the question of whether everything is the way that it is supposed to be becomes irrelevant.  Before, I was sure that my job was to decide whether to participate in this moment or just check out:  “I’m sorry.  This moment isn’t up to my standards.  I’ll check back in when we’ve turned this page.”  Now, if I’m following Christ, this moment simply is what it is.  I’m not in charge!  Rather, I’ve been led to this moment and I’m here to live this moment.  If I can stay present and watch carefully, there will be a chance for me to care for someone else, to discover joy, to live what I believe.

Jesus actually has the audacity to say that this way of living is “easy” and “light.”  Hard as it is to believe, he’s right.  It’s a huge, heavy burden to think that it’s up to us to decide how things should be and then cling for dear life to those expectations.  That’s the trap in which we get stuck. We keep trying to wrestle life into submission.  No matter how much we plan, no matter how tightly we try to keep our grip on things, life just refuses to conform.  So, Christ invites us to quit “monkeying around” and let go.