by Clement Wen

In Matthew 11:28-30, we read of Jesus inviting “all who are wearied and burdened” to come to Him for “rest” for their souls. Not only is this because He “is gentle and humble in heart,” but also because He promises us that His “yoke is easy” and His “burden is light.” What’s interesting about this passage is that His promise of the “easy yoke” is an indirect indictment of the “hard yoke” and “heavy burden” that certain forms of Judaism had placed on Jewish believers during that time when it came to spiritual and religious expectations and practices. Along such lines, I have always wondered whether our own evangelical Christian tradition, especially as practiced today in Taiwan and other Chinese-speaking Christian settings, more often reflects the “hard yoke” of such (legalistic/principled) spirituality and religiosity, or the “easy yoke” as promised by Jesus. My sense of things, if I may speak both generally and candidly, is that we are overdue for seeking a rediscovery of Jesus’s “easy yoke” when it comes to our understanding of what it looks like to have a more “restful” spiritual and devotional life. Before we get to that, however, I want to draw a few very broad brush-stroke (and admittedly selective) historical connections for why I think many of us experience a “harder yoke” today than we should. From there, I will suggest some aspects of our theological foundations that need to be recovered before offering some practical suggestions for how we might proceed when it comes to rediscovering the “easy yoke” life in Christ that we’ve been promised by Him.

Quiet Time

When many of us think about what it looks like to have a healthy devotional life, we often think of a daily “quiet time”, ranging anywhere from fifteen minutes to two hours, which has been compartmentalized from the rest of our day for the express purpose of privately reading or meditating upon scripture as well as for private prayer. What’s unfortunate about this image is how “hard” and “burdensome” it can feel amidst the many pressures of our increasingly busy lives. At the same time, it’s all too easy (and sadly, also common) to use the measure of “quiet time frequency” to either judge others or feel judged by others when it comes to who is (more) “spiritual” and who “isn’t.” Yet, from a historical perspective, this type of evangelical devotional piety that I’m here describing is a fairly recent phenomenon which finds its roots in the gradual shift from a world primarily marked by orality to one primarily marked by literacy—this, through Gutenberg’s invention of the printing press in the fifteenth century, which, importantly, funded the Protestant Reformation in the sixteenth. 

It may be difficult for us to imagine a pre-literary, pre-Reformation world where most would not have had access to their own Bibles, not to mention where most would have been illiterate due to education only being available to those of the higher classes. Further, instead of reading scripture for themselves, the masses only heard it when it was publicly read in worship. Meanwhile, without Luther’s proposed notion of “the priesthood of all believers”, a good many prayers and confessions would have been seen as needing mediation through an ordained priest if such were to be properly heard and received by God. In light of such circumstances, one can understand why Christian art took on great importance when it came to reminding ordinary believers of the stories and truths of God. One can also understand that a believer’s everyday devotional life necessarily looked different from what is normally prescribed within our contemporary evangelical tradition today, especially since the medieval imagination was (arguably speaking) more holistic than ours.

The “Harder Yoke”

Nevertheless, evangelical devotional piety as we find it today has many developmental sources, of which I want to specifically mention two which I think have especially contributed to our “harder yoke”: (1) the Wesley brothers’ “Holy Club” in the eighteenth century, and (2) the Keswick view of sanctification that emerged in the nineteenth. In terms of the former, weekly small group meetings led by John and Charles Wesley at Oxford University centered upon twenty-two piercing questions that everyone in the group needed to honestly answer in front of those gathered for sake of accountability. So as to give you an idea of what these questions were like, question one and two read in this way:

1. Am I consciously or unconsciously creating the impression that I am better than I really am? In other words, am I a hypocrite?

2. Am I honest in all my acts and words, or do I exaggerate?

Questions seven through nine were about daily practices surrounding scripture and prayer while questions ten, eleven, and fourteen read as follows:

10. When did I last speak to someone else about my faith? 

11. Do I pray about the money I spend?

14. Do I insist upon doing something about which my conscience is uneasy?

Used well, they can also serve as good accountability measures within a trusted small group. A danger, however, is that the ethos surrounding these questions can easily take a legalistic turn towards an unhealthy church or small group culture. My sense of things is that, generally speaking, our evangelical tradition has inherited just such a “hard yoke” turn when it comes to our brand of devotional piety. This turn would be further exacerbated a century later by the Keswick view’s adamance that believers needed to “absolutely surrender” themselves to the Holy Spirit each morning through “quiet time” spent in scripture and prayer for the purpose of “recharging the battery” unto “perfect” holy living for the rest of the day (in other words, sin management was Keswick’s main priority). Again, such a practice can of course be beneficial and fruitful for some—but for others, it can and, in my opinion, has also taken a turn towards an unhealthy rigidity that I believe makes the idea of devotional life a “harder yoke” than need be for many Christians. It doesn’t help that those who are good at these kinds of contemplative spiritual disciplines are the ones who seem to write all of the books about how to have a “good” devotional life, often as if their way is the only way.

Is there an appropriate and legitimate spirituality available for the rest of us non-contemplative, non-early-morning types, especially since the story describing Jesus rising early one morning “while it was still dark” to pray should be read more as a description rather than as a command (cf. Mk. 1:35)? (As a side note: here in our technologically oversaturated twenty-first century world in which the invention of electricity has kept us all awake later into the night than our predecessors, most of us probably need more sleep rather than less!)

The “Easy Yoke”

Within many of our Chinese-speaking churches, the typical evangelical stress upon devotional piety is ratcheted up a notch through the fact that we’ve learned so much (often unconsciously) from the ethos of Confucius and the way in which his thought and practice emphasize an imposing “against-the-grain” type of disciplined living for sake of whatever is seen as ideal (in this case, the pursuit of a daily “quiet time”). In this regard, I’ll be the first to admit that there are certain church contexts that are perhaps too casual and need the “kick in the pants” that something like Confucius’ thought and ethos can offer them. I want to suggest, though, that generally speaking, the Chinese-speaking church needs to be balanced in the other direction. If I may speak metaphorically for a moment: because we’ve learned and applied so much from Confucius and his ethos and way of thinking in our understanding of church and spiritual life, I think what we now need more of in order to balance out our “Confucian imbalance” is to learn from Lao-Tzu’s ethos and way of thinking. In other words, what we need is not more rigidness and calls to discipline and submission, but more naturalness and calls to organic and holistic living in Christ. This, I believe, is the devotional way forward when it comes to rediscovering Jesus’s promise of an “easy yoke.”

Theologically, this move requires a recovery of the theme of “union with Christ” as being the heart of our life and salvation. More specifically, it involves a trinitarian recovery of “participation in Christ, by the Spirit, to the Father” as being our life’s “S.O.P.” (Standard Operating Procedure)—not only for the sake of our devotional life (which ought not to be compartmentalized from the rest of our life the way that the tradition of “quiet times” often renders such), but rather, for sake of every aspect of our lives so that all of our life can be holistically related back to God in worship of God. Along such lines, the theme of this type of “participatory union with Christ” can be found throughout the New Testament, perhaps most notably in Paul’s letters as well as in the Gospel of John. Before I get to that, though, it would help to briefly touch more specifically upon how our relationship with God is mediated by way of the trinitarian pattern of which I speak. 

Systematic theologians have typically described God’s relationship with His creation as taking after a certain “economic” pattern—namely, that in everything God does within our world, it is (1) the Father who initiates, (2) the Son who inaugurates, and (3) the Spirit who completes. The bigger examples of this, God’s creation of the world (cf. Gen. 1:1-2; Jn. 1:1-3; Col. 1:15-17) and His redemptive work by way of the cross and resurrection (cf. Rom. 8:11; Eph. 1:15-23; Col. 2:9-15), were carried out by all three of His persons together in just this way. What’s interesting for our purposes, however, is that it seems that a reversal of this pattern is how we, as the people of God, move in grace towards the Father. Put another way, there is a trinitarian pattern to our life of faith in which our movement as Christians is (3) by the Spirit, (2) in Christ, (1) to the Father. Prayer, for example, is only possible because Jesus is our High Priest; our being “in Him” by the Spirit is how our prayers are brought before the Father. Our being “in Him” by the Spirit is also how our prayers can actually echo Christ’s own prayers as His Spirit unites us to Him in a way that He actually prays His prayers through us. Worship works the same way. Ministry tasks like teaching, preaching, evangelism, counseling, leadership, as well as anything and everything that we are engaged with in life are also most authentically carried out when we live “by the Spirit, in Christ, to the Father” (hence, Paul’s injunction to us in Col. 3:17). In this vein, as people who have been created in the image of God and who have been called to image Christ, everything we could possibly be engaged in can metaphorically be seen as fitting into God’s roles of Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer or Christ’s roles as Prophet, Priest, and King. Put simply, whether we are aware of it or not, the Christian life is a life lived by way of the trinitarian pattern because as Christians, we have been invited to participate in the intra-relational life, mission, and ministry of the Triune God. 

This is what Paul speaks of through his common refrain that we are “in Christ.” It is what John speaks of in his Gospel when he infers that the place where Jesus “lives” is within the relationship that Jesus has with the Father and the Holy Spirit (cf. Jn. 1:38-39, which finds fuller meaning in Jn. 14:10-23, and which, in Jn. 15:4-6, becomes an invitation also to us for where we ourselves should “live”).(1) Along such lines, this “participatory union with Christ” (“by the Spirit, to the Father”) is the heart of our life and salvation because it is through such union that all which Jesus in His humanity did, got, underwent, or is also becomes ours—including, for example, His obedience to the Father (Lk. 22:42; Ph. 2; Rom. 5:19; Mt. 4:1-11), His justification (Rm. 3:23-24; Eph. 1) and sanctification (Jn. 17:19), His sonship and all which such entails (Jn. 1:12; Eph. 1; Rom. 8-9; 2 Cor. 6:18; Gal. 3-4; Heb. 12), His having been seated at the right hand of the Father in the heavenly realms so as to be in command over all principalities and powers (Eph. 1:15-2:10), His having overcome the world (Jn. 16:33; 1 Jn. 5:3-5), His suffering (Ph. 1:29; 1 Pt; Rom. 8:15-117), and even His election (Eph. 1). It is “in Christ,” then, that we also obey, are justified and sanctified, are sons and daughters of God (with the rights of co-inheritance), are seated at the right hand of the Father even now, can overcome the world, will endure our own share of suffering, and are elect even before the foundations of world. 

By way of rooting ourselves deeper “in Christ” (“by the Spirit, to the Father”), the truly Spiritual life featuring His “easy yoke” naturally, holistically, and organically emerges so as to become our S.O.P. for all of life rather than something that’s either too closely identified with or too readily seen as being completely dependent upon a compartmentalized practice of “quiet time.” But this of course raises an important question: What does a devotional life built around this look like in actual practice—especially when it comes to basic things like scripture and prayer? On this, I only have enough space left to offer two quick thoughts.

(1) I’m thankful to Darrell Johnson for this insight through a summer school course he taught at Regent College entitled “Believing Into Life: Studies in the Gospel of John” (2006).

An Organic Devotional Life

The first thing to remember is that there are many possibilities rather than just one. The key is to find some sort of spiritual rhythm through which you can draw and stay close to God that naturally and organically fits around your current station and season in life as you seek to fit your life in its every part and as a whole under God and His life. For some of us, Brother Lawrence’s “practice of the presence of God” by way of short prayers throughout the day rather than in one long block may be helpful. Early risers can think about how they might be able to take advantage of their mornings while those who sleep late can consider how they might incorporate some sort of devotional practice before bed. Extroverts can consider how they might more regularly pursue devotional rhythms with other people rather than just alone. Bible apps like YouVersion not only offer “One-Year Bible” reading plans, but also feature a “play” button that can speak the scriptures aloud to us while we’re driving, on public transit, exercising, or washing the dishes. Weekends can be used for more extended times in study, meditation, worship, and prayer if your weekdays are busy. If all else fails, have you ever considered the fact that everyone needs to go to the bathroom everyday? Why not incorporate a spiritual rhythm around that time if nothing else seems suitable? Long story short, instead of being idealistic about spiritual rhythms to the point in which you’re never able to get started on them, how might we be realistic about what we actually can do, with the realization that something is better than nothing? Along such lines, Gary Thomas’s classic book, Sacred Pathways, in which he highlights nine different “pathways” by which different people can draw close to God, can be a good resource for stirring up more ideas on what you think your own unique “pathway” might be. Whatever we do, we can take comfort in knowing that “one size does not fit all.”

Second, Ken Shigematsu’s reminder to us that spiritual rhythms are a “get-to” rather than a “have-to” is a freeing thought (see his 2013 book, God in My Everything). Put another way, our mindset towards the devotional life matters, for if it is rigidly seen as a “have-to,” then it can easily become a source for anxiety, but if it framed instead as a “get-to,” then it more easily becomes seen as a great opportunity that we will enjoy taking advantage of. During my four years living in Scotland, I learned first-hand that the way in which the UK handles parking violations was very different from my experience of how my home country of the USA handles them. In short, whereas in the US, if you fail to pay your parking fine within a prescribed time, the penalty is doubled, in the UK, you are given thirty days to pay a penalty of £60, but if you pay within fourteen days, you’re given a fifty percent discount! In both places, we’re possibly paying the same amount, but the thought of getting a discount feels very different than the thought of having one’s fine doubled. In the USA, if you’re speeding for even a split second and happen to be caught by the police, you get a speeding ticket. But in the UK, their regulation is that your average speed over the course of ten miles needs to be a certain amount (which is much more forgiving). What if instead of overly emphasizing “daily” devotions, we instead emphasized the question of how we’ve been growing in our walk with God over the last three months, six months, one year, five years, ten years, or even twenty years? Wouldn’t such a long view be a healthier and more “natural” metric? What if our mindset to having a devotional life also underwent a similar reframing? Might we begin to see it as being a more natural, holistic, and organic thing to pursue? Might we truly take further steps in rediscovering the “easy yoke” of Jesus as we participate in Him? I pray and hope so.

Rev. Dr. Clement Wen currently serves as Assistant Professor of Systematic Theology at China Evangelical Seminary in Taiwan. Prior to earning his PhD at the University of Edinburgh in Scotland (2015-2019), he was Youth Pastor at the Chinese Bible Church of Maryland in the USA from 2010-2015. He is the son of the late Dr. Yinkann Wen, former president of the KRC board of directors.  Clement and his wife, Tracy, have two boys, Ethan and Micah.

You can read more of his articles here.