We use the term “burden” to describe things that are heavy to hold and carry. This may be toilsome work, sin, or oppressive circumstances. These are the parts of life that make us feel the most limited, lonely, defeated, and mortal.
In Matthew 11:28–30, the Savior says to us, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
When I looked carefully at this scripture, the first phrase jumped out at me. “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” I thought, “Great! How do I enroll in this Burden Elimination Program?” Although that is what it seems to mean, the idea of Burden Elimination isn’t consistent with my lived experience, or what I observe in other people. So I went back to the verse. The next phrase says, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me.” I thought, “I am not interested in a Burden Exchange Program. Especially with you. You can say it’s easy and light, but I don’t know how that could be true.” As I thought about Christ’s yoke, I began to picture the Savior stumbling under the beam of his cross through the streets. That burden caused “even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit” (Doctrine and Covenants 19:18). I realized that a Burden Exchange Program is too much for any of us. It cannot be the meaning of this verse.
At this point, I decided to get into the context. I began to research yokes. These are the facts I found that seem relevant to this parable:
A single ox can haul just a little more than its body weight.
A yoked team of two oxen can haul three times more than their combined body weight.
Oxen are stronger and can work longer than any other draft animal.
Training an effective team of yoked oxen relies on three key factors: (1) a custom yoke, (2) an experienced ox, and (3) a receptive ox.
Every team of oxen has a custom yoke, crafted to fit each animal. A custom-fit yoke minimizes sores and injuries and maximizes potential power. An experienced ox knows how to wear the yoke and pull the load. They've worked with the master. They understand his commands. They recognize the patterns of their work. The experienced ox carries most of the load. Even if the younger ox is just as large, the experienced ox bears more of the burden. Finally, in order to be a good team of oxen, the younger ox needs to be receptive to being yoked. They must be willing to wear the yoke and not fight against it. They must become accustomed to walking very close to the other ox. Over time, the younger ox learns to walk in step with the experienced ox. They stop when he stops and pull when he pulls. They follow his turns and watch his feet.
So now I have an image in my mind of the Savior as the experienced ox—he understands what God, the Master, is saying. He knows how to pull against the yoke and will bear most of the load. I can be the younger ox.
This made me see the scripture differently. If this was a Burden Elimination Program, then I would be a solitary ox pulling my personal burdens, hoping that God would cut the lines and let me run off into the clover field. If this was a Burden Exchange Program, then I would be a solitary ox pulling my personal burdens and the Savior would be a solitary ox pulling his burdens, inviting me to trade with him. But it’s neither one of those. This scripture describes a yoke of oxen, two of them, pulling a burden together.
Returning to the verse in Matthew, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” With my new contextual learning, I read the verse this way: “Come unto me with your heavy burdens. Get into this yoke, I am the big ox here. I am gentle to work with. I will bear most of the load. If you are with me under this yoke, I will take more of the weight of the burden than you will.” That is a beautiful message.
There is a painting by Guercino (1646) entitled Atlas Holding Up the Celestial Globe. When I look at it, I can easily imagine that the red-robed figure is not Atlas, but Jesus Christ. Instead of walking a polished floor in Kolob, dividing the firmament with words, I am stirred by the idea of a Creator straining to hang the heavens. In many depictions of Atlas holding up the sky, he is larger than life, crouching over the earth or down on one knee as he shelters a continent covered with tiny humans below. I can see Christ in this posture, holding back all the darkness, meaninglessness, and emptiness that would descend upon us if he had not come to rescue us from it. In my scurrying about the world below, even my suffering implies that I was created to feel loved, full, whole, purposeful, and good. Without all the light, love, truth, and justice that Christ represents, how much more devastating would my trials be? Even when I grapple with the absence of goodness, I do it with the intelligence given to me by God upon the earth he created surrounded by exquisitely complex eternal souls in miraculous mortal bodies. What would I be suffering if none of those were true? I see Jesus Christ as the veritable Atlas, holding up the void enough for us to walk daily here.
With this insight in mind, I understand why faithful people still have heavy burdens to carry. Even with another ox bearing the bulk of the burden, I understand that God does not minimize the full weight of grief, sin, sorrow, illness, or toil. He is not offering to eliminate or exchange any burdens, and he does not expect me to throw off the weight, cheer up, and walk with ease. But he is willing to bear my burdens with me. He will walk in step with me to bear the load and do the work that must be done. He invites me into his yoke. Camille Johnson taught in the April 2023 General Conference that the yoke is a covenant relationship. The yoke is a tool with four critical elements.
The first element of a yoke is proximity, meaning closeness and familiarity. The oxen are measured and the yoke is designed to keep them comfortably near one another. The distance between the two oxen is crucial so neither loses sight of or a sense of relationship to the other. A good yoke has the element of safety; when worn correctly, the yoke protects the young ox from pulling too hard or quickly and risking injury. The weight of any one task might be too much when pulled alone, so working within a yoke protects the oxen from harm. Another crucial factor of a yoke is its ability to provide direction. The oxen can guide each other within the yoke and sense each other’s movements. When it is time to change direction, the younger ox can feel the experienced ox turn through the yoke. The final critical element of a yoke is that it is enabling; the yoke allows the oxen to do more than they could do alone. They can do the master’s work with more strength, for a longer time, at a better pace when they work together.
Covenant relationships are likewise enacted to create proximity to the Savior, safety from the harms of sin, direction and purpose, and enabling power.
These insights were profound for me. And this is when I started to wonder, how does this work in my life, outside the metaphor? How does Christ actually help me bear my burdens today?
I’ll admit, I lack experience in this area. And it’s not because I don’t have very many burdens, it’s because I sometimes resist the yoke. I spend a lot of time thinking about how I don’t want to do this hard work or wondering if the yoke even fits me. I’ve even wondered if the other ox is doing anything at all, because the load still feels so heavy. So I am especially reassured by the picture of a gentle, patient partner to share my yoke, waiting for me to learn to step with him.
That said, I can attest to the power of believing in Christ. I know it is good for me to believe in God. When I think about his character, it has an effect on my heart. Just knowing about his life reassures me somehow. Remembering his teachings soothes and strengthens me. I’ve never experienced anything that felt like pulling down divine power, suddenly being filled with strength, or having a burden evaporate. However, when I'm in step with the Savior, my burdens feel lighter. I have experienced peace that surpasses understanding (Philippians 4:7). I have experienced enough inspiration to take one more step. I have always had enough strength to get through all my days (Deuteronomy 33:25). I hope he is near me. And although the veil is thick, I do believe that Christ is on the other side of my covenants with him, walking me home.
In addition to the covenants we make with God, we make covenants to one another. When we are baptized, we join a covenant community that centers on a promise to bear one another’s burdens. There are burdens in my life that were crushing, confusing, and repressive until I shared them with someone I could trust. Some of my burdens are questions, questions that feel easier to hold and carry when I discuss them with other people. I have burdens that aren’t incredibly heavy, but that I have been holding for a long time and will need to hold onto for much longer. When I get tired, it is good to put them down in compassionate company before picking them back up. I have work myself and in my family that I couldn’t do as well on my own, and I rely on many relationships to refresh my strength in that work. God always seems to be urging us towards one another. When I return to the four critical elements of the yoke—proximity, safety, direction, and enabling power—they are the keystone benefits of being in relationships with one another. They are the goodness that brings me back to my family, ward, and community, each imperfect yet productive.
The Savior is gentle to work with and will bear most of the load. He has already pulled light and life down into this world with the beam placed upon his shoulders. He is bearing up the void. As I accept being yoked, to him and to others, I believe my shoulders will be blessed to bear the burdens that have been placed thereon.
Brooklyn Miller is a graduate student in Marriage and Family therapy, and is passionate about understanding the opportunities for growth in our closest relationships. She grew up in Colorado and loves being outdoors and visiting big cities. She can often be found reading aloud to her children, bike riding with her dog, and listening to Broadway musical soundtracks.
Art by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901).
beautifully written - thank you Brooklyn