It was one of those landmark moments in my life, a moment I’m going to remember forever. It was probably 1984 or so, I was 11 or 12 years old. Was just starting to get interested in girls and we were in NYC, my first time there. Among the various sites my family and I had decided to see that day was the World Trade Center, long before the horror of 9/11. And as is often the case with any major tourist attraction in any large city, we had to wait in line for the elevator that would shoot us up 110 stories to the observation floor. So my family and I are standing in line and I checking out this girl about my age, maybe a little older, standing in line with her family behind us. Blonde, kinda cute. And as I’m watching, she turns to say something to her folks and rattles off something in German.

I was a little taken aback, since I presumed falsely that she was American. But then I looked around at all the other people in line with us. There were several Asians, Japanese I think, chattering away with excitement. Several folks who looked like they were from Africa. Plenty of white folks in line too, and while they looked like my folks and I, dressed like us, it was anyone’s guess if they were Americans or, like the German girl, from somewhere else. It really opened my eyes. For the first time, this WV boy got a glimpse, even if a small one, of the wider world in which we live.

I’ve been thinking about that moment a lot, because Sarah and I had almost the exact same experience waiting in line for another NY skyscraper on our honeymoon together. Our lives are filled with such moments, events, circumstances, and many other things that broaden our perspectives and open our eyes to the wonder that is the world and the universe in which we live. What we once knew explodes into something far more grand and far more wondrous that we ever imagined before. The world is more than we know.

It is this very truth that I think that Jesus often tries to teach us. That our perceptions of what is and what is not are limited. That there is more to the world that we know. That there is more to people than we know. And perhaps, most importantly, there is more to God than we know.

Our Gospel lesson is almost a lament from Jesus’ lips about how close minded we can be. He begins with comments about the resistance John the Baptist received, “For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’” And what did John teach that brought such insults? Charity to others, justice to the oppressed and downtrodden.

And then Jesus speaks of the resistance he’s received, “the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’” Again, what brought this on, teachings about compassion, mercy. But both men were guilty because they dared to say that such virtues were not the sole property of the “good people.” They dared to teach and to act and to live as if the outcasts and the unwanted deserved such honor and respect as well. Hard not to hear that phrase, “friend of tax collectors and sinners,” and not remember back two chapters to Jesus’ dinner party with the future writer of this Gospel story. He’s still paying the price for his boldness on that day, and for what? Because he tried to show the blind and the stubborn that people are not always what they seem and neither is God.

Are we so different? Are we any less stubborn and blind? Not really. For all of our advanced science and technology, for all of our vaunted public and private education systems here in 21^st century America, there is also an almost surprising reverence for anti-intellectualism. If you got learning, you’re uppity. It’s a bad thing to be smart. Bad thing to be educated. It’s kinda sad, because here we are in the midst of an election year and the two opponents are bending over backwards to accuse each other of “elitism.” My opponent went to Harvard, as if that’s a bad thing. You know, call me crazy, but before we even get into ideology, conservative/liberal, democrat/republican, I want to know that the men and women who aspire to the highest office in the land are learned, educated, experienced. That they’re smart people. You don’t hire an 18 yr old fresh out of high school to run a major corporation, do you? Then why would anyone want someone with no more smarts than us to run this country?

Learning makes you uppity. Being smart is bad. A lot of people really do believe that, and either out of arrogance or more likely fear, they decide they already know everything they need to know about the world and the people who live in it. They got it all figured out. That people who look like me are good people, people who don’t are bad people. That if you set foot in the city, you going to be mugged and raped and murdered by gangs of criminals. That if you set foot in the country, you’re going to be abducted, raped, and murdered by inbred savages with crooked teeth. That all Arabs are terrorists and all gays are child molesters, along with every other prejudiced and bigoted stereotype our imaginations can come up with. None of these are true, but how will we know unless we learn otherwise? Unless we open our minds to the wider world in which we live.

As bad as that sort of ignorance is, all the more so because of how commonplace it’s become, too often we do the exact same thing with the teachings of our faith. In much the same way, we conclude that we’ve got it all figured out, that we already know all that we need to know about God, and Jesus, and stuff. And we fall into the same traps as those folks from the 1^st century who stood against Jesus for daring to try to teach them otherwise. How dare he eat with tax collectors! We already know what those people are really like. How dare he say God is love! No, he’s the lawgiver and if we just follow the rules, we’re okay. How dare he call us sinners! We’re the good people, the sinners are over there. How dare he tell me I am saved when I’ve done nothing to deserve it!

Jesus seeks to open our minds to those simple truths of our faith, and yet so often we resist. We don’t want to learn. We don’t want to be challenged. We don’t want to see the wonder that is the wider world, and a greater God than we ever imagined. We’re afraid. We’re afraid of being wrong. We’re afraid of having to change our lives and our lifestyles to reflect these new truths. But the teachings of Christ are not to be feared. Listen to his words, some of the most famous and beloved in all of Scripture. “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke 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.”

His burden is easy and light because his teachings point to things we can cling to in time of need. Life, as we have already discovered, is going to throw everything it can at us. Our stories have many moments of doubt and crisis. How do we navigate beyond them? We remember. We remember the truths that Jesus has taught us. We remember why he came to this world. We remember why he died and why he rose again. We remember the promises. Lo, I am with you always… Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ… Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here. He has risen…Be strong and courageous, for I the Lord you God is with you wherever you go. What am I doing? Quoting Scriptures from all over the Bible. Scriptures that have supported me, held me up in times of crisis. Scriptures that have been given to me, taught to me, taught to all of you. This is the benefit of learning at Christ’s feet. Tools to support us, the means to see the light in the midst of darkness.

How do we learn these things? The answer to that is simple. You learn them from preaching. You learn them in the wine and the bread and the water of our sacraments. You learn them through Bible studies, Sunday School, and other educational opportunities provided through the church. You learn them in private devotion and prayer. You also learn them by experience, by being open to the wider world. The Spirit uses whatever it can to teach us. And what he teaches points to those simple truths we hold dear. Never forget them.

God loves us. Christ lived, died, and rose again for us. They will never forsake us. This is the yoke that makes life bearable. Amen.