The depth of the Covid-19 global pandemic has had a profound impact on all of our lives. For me, the most challenging aspect of the lockdown has been the closure of our Churches. For someone who has spent the best part of the last thirty years leading worship every week, the feeling of loss has been immense.
The inability to meet face-to-face, to congregate, to embrace has been incredibly challenging; and, of course, because of the lockdown, we’ve been postponing weddings and conducting funerals that have had to be very limited in the number of relatives and friends who could attend. The grief over the loss of so many unique, precious and irreplaceable lives to the coronavirus is a hard weight to bear in our families, in our communities, in our nation, in our world, in our churches. The inability to comfort, and to console in person is nothing but a loss - a deep, aching loss.
The loss of jobs and livelihoods is devastating. The shutting down of so much and the staying inside so long has felt like a long, hard slog wearing heavy backpacks. But these difficult times have also brought opportunities. Although it is surreal standing here preaching in this historic Auld Grey Kirk on the Hill all alone, online sermons have given us the chance to connect with people all over the world; and it’s been both humbling and uplifting to stand here in Glenmavis and speak to people in Scotland, Australia, the United States - and all points in between!

The coronavirus pandemic has also exposed deep truths about ourselves and our societies that are hard to face. Truths like great inequalities in health care; Truths like life-limiting disparities in our educational systems; Truths like the persistent and pervasive racism in our society. To defeat this virus, and build a more sustainable and equitable world, we need communities to stand together and robustly challenge those who wish to divide us or exploit the heightened uncertainty and anxiety created by the ongoing pandemic. We have gone through this global crisis together, and we must continue to stay together and work together in order that we can emerge from it with a renewed sense of community that rests on the fundamental and shared perception that all have an equal claim to justice, dignity and fair treatment. But, because of the fickleness of human nature and understanding, we live in a world in which differing opinions often cause people to feel that proper respectful relationships are not possible or perhaps, in some cases, not even necessary or appropriate. In the “new normal” we must resolve to move beyond such negative, unproductive attitudes! We must remember that people always have their differences, we are all unique after all; but, ultimately, we have to live together in love and respect. We may well never fulfil this goal entirely but, by the grace of God, the more we strive for it and the nearer we get to it the better. After all, what does it say about our faith if we are not open to our personal relationship with God influencing our actions in every aspect of our lives? This concept of “love thy neighbour” was abundantly displayed when so many of us actually got to know who lives on our street, and bonded with them over the ten weeks when we “clapped for carers”.

It’s true, too, that coronavirus has not only helped us to feel the presence of God in a much more personal and powerful way; it has also made us realise that we are all connected and vulnerable - and that shared vulnerability reveals our common humanity. As we go forward into the “new normal” we must remember, too, our societal debt of honour to some of the lowest paid, the most invisible. Invisible, unsung - yet indispensable - their worth and necessity not measured in pounds and pence - although it should be - but in love, respect and in interdependence. During this time of emergency we’ve seen that sense of interdependence in the kindness of one neighbour to another; and the service of our key frontline workers - many of whom now face redundancy as a reward for their sterling frontline service.

We’ve been given inklings, reminders, of the God-given value and calling of every single person; and so, the first move for a hoped-for future must be a real change of direction to make that glimpse a reality. Christians call it “repentance” meaning “to reverse direction”. But repentance can’t come without justice, because changing direction means actively righting past wrongs.
The second move accompanying repentance with justice is forgiveness. Facing the challenge of our interdependence asks us: what does it mean to be truly in relationship with each other? It requires us to recognise the dignity and value of every person, especially those that we too readily overlook, those hidden by the bashfulness of suffering - the old, the poor, those with disabilities, and minority communities of all kinds.

Relationships require the hard graft of saying “sorry” and changing, repenting where we have hurt others, of seeking strength to forgive where we ourselves have been hurt, and committing to work together in the unity of diversity.
Right relationships in our households and our neighbourhoods, across our cities and our regions, and around our nation and the world require that we start to think from the imagination and love of our souls.

Repentance and forgiveness convert us and offer a future of hope. This new future requires of us the ability to receive as gift, with wonder and gratitude, the gift of each other with all our many and varied differences, supremely the gift of God. Those are the gifts with which to rethink, to re-imagine, to rebuild the future.
Repentance, forgiveness, conversion of hearts and of souls, gifts given and received of love: these are the greatest tools to build the greatest hope for the greatest future.

The Gospels don’t give us much insight into the interior lives and feelings of Jesus and the disciples, but we do witness a lot of “doing”. Jesus moves and acts in public space, healing, teaching, feeding, proclaiming, forgiving, loving. He was turned over to the Roman authorities, publicly executed, and rose again on the third day. The kingdom of God is announced, enacted, and embodied in public - so the Gospel is not about the private life of Jesus, but the politics of Jesus.

If politics is about human beings living in a community with a mission that enables them to flourish and to discover their true destiny, then the body politic is the body of Christ. The politics of Jesus’ love and justice are first to be lived out in the body of Christ through the expression of Kingdom values and priorities. And, so, the most eloquent witness we may make is the public display of a community that is formed by the story of Jesus, embodied in lives poured out in service to God. The politics of the church is lived out in witness and mission and participating in the story of God’s redemption, the God who brought the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt, the God who raised Jesus Christ from the dead.

Modern life is chaotic; and the post coronavirus era may only add to that chaos - but true healing only comes from the God who promised a new heaven and a new earth; a time when the veil that separates the nations will be pulled back;
when all peoples will share in the abundance of God’s creation and all tears will be wiped away, and pain, mourning and death will be no more.

The gospel lesson for today offers genuine comfort to those of us who are weary and carrying heavy burdens. Yet we must guard against turning Jesus into someone or something He is not. Jesus is not a commodity that we distribute to consumers. He is not a professor of political theory. He is not a modern therapist.

Jesus is the One whom we meet in Matthew’s Gospel: the personification of Wisdom; The Son of God, Israel’s Messiah, the Crucified and Risen Lord, the founder of the Messianic Kingdom, the One who promises true rest, Sabbath rest, foretold in creation, made flesh and blood in His person, fulfilled in the Messianic banquet.
It is His yoke that is easy;
it is His burden that is light.
And it is in and though Him that we will find rest for our weary souls.

Jesus’ easy yoke is not an invitation to an easy, carefree life, but it is deliverance from the man-made burdens of religion. These burdens are the guilt of sin and its side effects such as depression, anxiety, fear and doubt. If we accept the “rest” Jesus offers, all we have to do is accept His teachings as well as the obligations He will lay upon us. Essentially, Jesus invites us to treat each other as brothers and sisters in Christ!
As we come together to worship every week, we admit our hunger for God.
God sees our emptiness and feeds us the choicest food, the flesh and blood of the One who invites us today to take His yoke upon us and learn from Him for He is meek and humble of heart.

We can let go of the heavy yokes of this world and take up the blessed yoke that is no burden;
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened
and I will give you rest.
Take my yolk 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.”

Let’s think actively about the various different relationships we maintain within our daily lives. Let’s trust that the Holy Spirit will make these relationships everything they should be?
And let’s pray that the Holy Spirit of God will empower each of us to go into the world and love as deeply as we are loved by God.