Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am meek [or gentle] and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls”  (Matt. 11:29).

This expression is more than a self-effacing platitude; it embodies the very pith of the Lord’s charge. Like connective tissue between vital organs, it links responsibility to rationale. It explains why Jesus is the only logical Teacher: because He is already what each of us must become.

Our charge to take on the “yoke” of Jesus is not a call to religiously correct formalism. It is a summons to yielding, deliberate reformation of character. It is an invitation to fulfill God’s purpose for His elect: “to be conformed to the image of His Son” (Rom. 8:29). And who better as an Instructor, than the Son, Himself, who has already yielded to the Father’s will in total self-sacrifice? “Tempted in all points as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15), Jesus is the ultimate role model.

                We sometimes stumble over the terms meek and gentle. Although they are used interchangeably by translators, they do not represent identical ideas. Gentleness is not the equivalent of meekness; rather, gentleness is a result of true meekness. And contrary to popular opinion, a man made meek is not a man made weak. Weakness, whether moral or physical, is no virtue.

The very concept of meekness is based on the recognition of strength. But great strength glorifies God and man only when it is controlled to some useful end. And such is the essence of meekness: strength under control. And Jesus is the benchmark. He came to earth as “God manifested in flesh” (1 Tim. 3:16), yet humbly submitted to the scorn of men. Not  because He was weak, but because His infinite strength, inherent in Godhood, was controlled to serve the purposes of the Father. When we make a deliberate, rational choice to allow our lives to be used in the service of God, we understand the principle of being His yokefellow.

To put on the well-fitted yoke of God is to recognize two essential facts. First, God’s will is not an arbitrary, burdensome code, but a reflection of His own moral nature – and is designed for our ultimate good. Secondly, His yoke can only be put on voluntarily. No one is forced or coerced into discipleship. It is only through the determinate will of the individual that he lays aside his own agenda and steps into the harness of tamed strength. And that may be precisely why so many of us fight it.

If only Christianity were about “doing Bible things in Bible ways,” we reason dubiously, discipleship would be a snap. If its focus were only the performance of public acts of worship, faith would be nothing more than learning ritual. And that’s where logic become illogical. If religion is not rooted in our hearts, if we haven’t given our whole hearts to the Lord, what would possibly motivate us to maintain the routine?

But yielding one’s whole heart to another, even to the Savior, is tough. It is a learned response, stemming from a realistic perspective of one’s proper place in this world. We are not little gods ruling our little corner of the cosmos. We are created beings. We are made from dirt. It is only through the creative genius of the One True God that we have life and breath at all. Jesus was “lowly in heart.” Although He was no ordinary man, He still had “emptied Himself” of all the glories of heaven and took the form of a man. He lived in humble circumstances, yielding Himself even to the cross (Phil. 2:5-8). If one who was “God manifested in flesh” can be humble in the Father’s service, how much more are we to “have this mind” as Paul charges?

Like Jesus, each of us must “empty” himself. Of pride. Of self-importance. Of selfishness. Of unrestrained lusts. It is only when we’re stripped of Self that our strength is “tamed” and fit for the service of God. We can only put on God’s yoke when our own has been consigned to the scrap heap. As Paul explains it, “What things were gain to me, these I have counted loss for Christ. But indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ” (Phil. 3:8-9).

 - Steve Dewhirst