Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
When music is playing, you can bet that my young children will be
dancing. It doesn’t matter where that music is found, their little feet
have to move. Grocery store, school hallway, church sanctuary, or
even an elevator, they respond to the tunes. As parents, we smile. As
big brother, my oldest son rolls his eyes. But the littles keep dancing.
My five-year-old, who never meets a stranger, once asked a man in
the hotel elevator with us: “Why are you not dancing? You don’t
hear this?” Everything about this man—his hands full with luggage,
his face set straight ahead—said that listening to music and dancing
were the last things he planned to do at that moment.
I get it. I’m sure the man was just as busy as we all are most days. He may have been annoyed by the music and the dancing child. But when I hear music, I think about Jesus’s words: you did not dance (v. 17). A particular freedom and lightness are present in us when we listen for music and respond to it. Often, I am too busy or weary to pay attention and allow myself those little moments of dancing.
In this passage when Jesus amplifies the prophet’s words, he asks
the gathered people to think about what they have seen and what
they have heard. Jesus says wisdom has been revealed to the infants,
the vulnerable ones. Jesus names them and confirms that they are
seen and beloved. What a thing to say to a crowd of people who are
probably weary. What a thing to offer to all of us who carry burdens
more often than we dance.
Bring your weariness to Jesus. You and your burdens are seen and
invited to rest. Or dance.
When I think about moving toward Jesus, am I holding heavy burdens and bringing them along with me? What might Jesus say to me about what I am holding?
God who invites us to see and hear what is present around us, guide our hearts to listen and our feet to dance. Amen.