14th Sunday of Ordinary Time, A July 5, 2026
Fr. Alexander Albert St. Mary Magadalen, Abbeville, LA
“It’s your church, Lord, I’m going to bed.” Pope St. John XXIII famously prayed that prayer often when he was pope. In the Church’s understanding, a parish pastor only has to worry about a single parish. A bishop is responsible for a whole diocese, but usually just the one. The pope, however, is in some way responsible for every soul on earth.
It makes me think of the titan Atlas from Greek mythology, doomed to hold the world on his shoulders. And yet, Pope St. John was often called “good Pope John” because of his constant kindness and warmth. How could someone burdened with so much responsibility be so pleasant all the time? Because, unlike the domineering and arrogant Atlas of Greek myth, John XXIII was meek and humble of heart. He took Jesus up on his offer, accepting his “yoke” – “it’s your church, Lord” – and found rest in the easy and light burden of Jesus Christ.
What is Jesus’ yoke? The Cross. How is the cross “easy” or “light” or “restful?” Well, compared to the entire world, what is one cross? Do you think Atlas the titan would agree to trade whole world in exchange for one piece of wood? Good Pope John, Pope St. John XXIII did make that trade every night and he slept well and smiled often as a result.
The key, of course, is meekness. Meekness is the strength to put down a burden that isn’t mine; it is refusing to lift what I shouldn’t lift in the first place. Meekness is a refusal to misuse the strength you have and to avoid the temptation to react just because you want to.
This is why Jesus promises “rest” for those who take up the yoke of the cross. The truth is that those who are meek and humble of heart – like Pope St. John XXIII and countless other saints – carry only what they need to carry instead of trying to carry the whole world.
Now, you and I may not be the pope or the president or someone else charged with leading vast amounts of other people, but we each of us somehow find ways to try to carry the world ourselves. Our readings today point to three kinds of extra burdens and how we might avoid each of them. The three burdens I’m talking about are: trying to change the truth; trying to conquer others; and trying to satisfy the flesh.
Let’s start with the flesh. St. Paul in our second reading very succinctly tells us that “if you live according to the flesh, you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” The flesh is heavy, y’all. Our bodies are good, crated by God and manifesting our souls in the physical world, but the flesh is our fallen tendency to reduce everything to sensations and desires and instincts. Our bodies are good, but after original sin, they are disordered and never, ever satisfied.
More food, more pleasure, more sensations, more rest, more activity, more, more, more! If we try to carry the burden of constantly satisfying every desire and obeying every emotion, we will be exhausted. For a little while, people who have the means to chase every worldly pleasure seem happy. But watch long enough and you’ll see the haggardness, the frantic clinging to youth, the hollow look.
Do not fall for it! Instead, take the yoke of Christ upon you. “Put to death the deeds of the body” by self-denial. You should meet your basic needs and occasionally enjoy the good things God has made, but remember that satisfaction is not your burden. You are not strong enough to always be comfortable, full, and pleased. Carry the cross of self-control, self-denial, and humble patience and you’ll find more peace than any buffet, brothel, or bed could ever offer.
Then there is trying to conquer others. We live in a network of relationships – that’s not only unavoidable, it is what God wants. That network of relationships, however, is not ours to carry. Friends, family, children, students, employees… all the people we feel responsible for… they are not actually ours. Yes, parents and pastors and teachers and bosses must care for and be fair towards the people under them, but they cannot own them. In other words, they cannot control them.
Sometimes, when trying to do the right thing for people under our influence, we confuse responsibility for results. The more we focus on controlling the outcome, the more fall into the trap of trying to conquer others instead of loving them. Jesus is literally God. He is the perfect teacher, pastor, and boss. Yet 10 of his apostles ran away and 1 betrayed him. He was constantly rejected by the Pharisees and Sadducees. But did he insist on making them believe? On making them be faithful? No. Because he is meek and humble of heart and the free will of other people is not his burden. He carries the burden of the cross but not the burden of judging his self-worth by the outcome of other people’s choices. It’s why the first reading says the king – Jesus – will banish horse and chariot and bow-and-arrow. He does not have a dominion of force and conquest, but a dominion of love and freedom.
You cannot resort to conquest either. You cannot make anyone do anything. You should discipline those under you and you can influence others, but meekness and humility – and the rest they offer – come from recognizing that you can only carry the cross of love and virtue, not the burden of controlling all outcomes.
Finally, there is the burden of trying to change the truth. Fighting the truth is exhausting – just ask Pontius Pilate. When Jesus says that the Father has hidden things from “the wise and the learned,” he’s reminding us that intelligence and study can be used to hide from the truth just as much as to discover it. How many of the world’s so-called “experts” believe and teach absurd things? They deny the truth of male and female, the humanity of the unborn, the consequences of promiscuity, the devastating effects of artificial contraception, the inevitability of death, the impact greed has on the environment and society, and countless other things that “simple people” see clearly.
When faced with a truth we don’t like, we have two basic choices: we can either take up the burden of getting around that truth – and that is exhausting – or we can meekly and humbly accept it, carrying the cross with Jesus. And while it’s easy to point the finger at “those people,” the point here is to look in the mirror. What truth are you trying to subvert? What teaching of the church, what fact of nature, what practical reality in your life are you laboring to ignore or change? You won’t succeed. Yes, the truth is hard and it can feel heavy, but Jesus quite literally gave his life on the cross to show you that denying the truth is far heavier and far harder in the end.
“Come to me” Jesus says. “Take my yoke” he offers. Put down the burden of denying the truth. Let go of the weight of conquering others. Cast off the yoke of endlessly chasing fleshly desires. Much easier is the yoke of love, might lighter is the burden of truth, much freer is the reign of the Holy Spirit.
The burdens of this world weigh us down and pull us back. The yoke of the cross, however, is easy because Christ carries it with us and pulls us forward by grace. The burden of Christ is light because it lifts us up by love and the promise of resurrection. Learn to carry it by meekness, to be carried by it through humility of heart and you too “will find rest for yourselves.” Or to paraphrase good Pope John, “it’s your church, Lord,” so I think it’s time to finally put these burdens to bed.