I wonder if you are like me. I am constantly trying to be better than myself. Yet I make the same mistakes, it seems, over and over again. I think most of us wake up each morning wanting to live a good life, wanting to behave in love to those around us. We don’t want to be a source of conflict or dissension. We want to be patient, loving, honest, generous, faithful. We want to be the best person we can possibly be. Yet, by the time our heads hit the pillow at night, most of us look back on our day and notice the gaps. We snapped at someone we love. We let anxiety dictate our choices. We stayed silent when we should have spoken up. You know the patterns in your own lives which seem to repeat ad nauseum.

If we feel this frustration, we are in good company. In our second reading today, the letter from Romans, Paul is clearly feeling this as well. He assesses himself honestly, and says: “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing”. He lays bare the raw, unfiltered reality of the human condition. He says that human willpower, and religious laws, on their own, cannot save us from our deeply ingrained habits. This is the universal human struggle. We know the right path, yet we constantly trip over our own feet. We make mistakes. We fall short. When we realize we are making mistakes, our natural instinct is to try harder. We make resolutions, year after year. We read self-help books. We rely on sheer willpower to “fix” ourselves. And that, perhaps, is where we go wrong. We are trying to rely on ourselves, not God. That is one of my bigger failings – I tend to try to fix things myself first. I hate asking for help. I was brought up to be self-reliant, and unfortunately, that self-reliance can become a matter of pride. Even when help would be good, I still fight against it.

Jesus looks at the crowds in today’s Gospel and sees exactly where that self-reliance leads. He compares the culture of his day to children playing a game where no one can win. The people listening don’t know what they want. John the Baptist is too strict – so much fasting! Jesus is too loose – too much partying! They are trying to meet the impossible standards laid down in the Jewish scriptures, and they are trapped in a exhausting cycle. When we try to cure our mistakes by just trying harder, we become like the people Jesus describes: weary and carrying heavy burdens. Willpower alone is not enough to change us, as much as we might like.

So, what do we do about it? Paul gives us the first clue at the very end of his confession. After crying out in frustration, asking who will rescue him from this cycle, he doesn’t say, “I just need to try harder tomorrow.” – sound familiar? Instead, he declares: “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” He recognises that he cannot do this alone. The first step in dealing with our mistakes is to stop looking inward at our failures and start looking outward at God’s grace. We must accept that we cannot save ourselves. Mistakes are not a sign that you are a failure; they are a sign that you are human, and that you need a Saviour.

The second practical step comes from Jesus’ famous invitation: “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me.” We are called to God, to walk with him. We are called to put his yoke upon us. In the ancient world, a yoke was a wooden beam placed over the necks of two oxen so they could pull a plough together. Typically, an older, stronger ox was paired with a younger, inexperienced one. The younger ox didn’t have to know exactly what to do; it just had to stay close and walk at the pace of the stronger leader. The purpose of a yoke is to make it easier to carry or pull a load. So if there is a burden to be carried, then it is easier done with a yoke than without. This is – I think – important to remember. Jesus does not promise we will not have burdens to carry – instead he promises that when we choose to walk with him, to carry his yoke, the burdens will be easier. A yoke in scripture is often used to signify submission to another person, or to a code of law. We are being asked to submit willingly to Jesus, and he will help us carry our load. We are asked to willingly take on the law which he proclaims – to love the Lord our God with all our heart, and mind, and soul, and to love our neighbours as ourselves.

Jesus is telling us that we are yoked to the wrong things. We are yoked to the expectations of the world, to our own perfectionism, and to our past guilt. He invites us to swap that heavy burden for His yoke. When we are told that in taking the yoke of Jesus upon us we will find rest for our souls, it isn’t talking about lying down and having an afternoon nap – wonderful though that might sound. The rest this passage speaks of is the Jewish concept of shalom – a peace within ourselves, a holistic awareness. I think Julian of Norwich describes when she says ‘all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well’. It is an inner peace based on the knowledge that we know God and he knows us, and no matter what happens, that will not change.

We are told that the yoke of Jesus is easy to bear. Perhaps. We no longer have the Torah to stick to religiously, and in theory, the one commandment of Jesus is easier to follow. Instead of just following the rules, we are called to look beyond to the spirit and purpose of the law – that of loving God, and loving neighbour. Sometimes following Jewish dietary requirements might seem simpler! God calls us to a life of discipleship and righteousness. Taking the decision to follow that call may seem easy. But it demands life commitment and self-denial. It requires of us that we put Christ first, self second. That we place his yoke upon us and allow him to guide our paths. We will still make mistakes tomorrow. The tug-of-war inside us will not magically disappear. But we do not have to fight it alone. This week, when you stumble or fall short of the person you want to be, do not beat yourself up. Do not double down on willpower. Instead, stop, take a breath, and remember who you are yoked to. Lean into Christ’s strength, accept his forgiveness, and let him carry the weight.

Vittoria Hancock 5 July 2026