it for--an additional weight to the already great woe of life,
some extra punctiliousness about duty, some painful devotion to
observances, some heavy restriction and trammeling of all that is
joyous and free in the world? Is life not hard and sorrowful enough
without being fettered with yet another yoke?

It is astounding how so glaring a misunderstanding of this plain
sentence should ever have passed into currency. Did you ever stop
to ask what a yoke is really? Is it to be a burden to the animal
which wears it? It is just the opposite. It is to make its burden
light. Attached to the oxen in any other way than by a yoke, the
plough would be intolerable. Worked by means of a yoke, it is
light. A yoke is not an instrument of torture; it is

An instrument of mercy.

It is not a malicious contrivance for making work hard; it is a
gentle device to make hard labor light. It is not meant to give
pain, but to save pain. And yet men speak of the yoke of Christ
as if it were slavery, and look upon those who wear it as objects
of compassion. For generations we have had homilies on "The Yoke
of Christ"--some delighting in portraying its narrow exactions;
some seeking in those exactions the marks of its divinity; others
apologizing for it, and toning it down; still others assuring us
that, although it be very bad, it is not to be compared with the
positive blessings of Christianity. How many, especially among
the young, has this one mistaken phrase driven forever away from
the kingdom of God? Instead of making Christ attractive, it makes
Him out a taskmaster, narrowing life by petty restrictions, calling
for self-denial where none is necessary, making misery a virtue