Here in Chicago, I regularly visit the Catholic Worker House on the city’s north Side. Recently, I’ve had the privilege to befriend James, a gentleman in his mid-fifties who moved into the house a month ago.  

Prior to receiving shelter, as temperatures in Chicago plunged below zero, James’ tent caved in. He rode the L train to O’Hare and back for weeks to survive. 

Now that he is housed, James has begun pursuing his GED, delayed thirty-six years due to a fear of failure and a terror of math. He also wants to revive his painting and drywall business. Yet he can’t even list his name on his flyers; his criminal record is publicly available information.  

James’ life is filled with burden upon burden. The isolation, the heaviness, the impossibility of it all—it seems almost too much for one person to bear.  

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.” What Jesus offers today to one burdened is his burden, his “yoke.” Yet instead of hopelessness and heaviness, Jesus carries his burden with meekness and humility of heart.  

I don’t know if James is able to hear or receive Jesus’ invitation. However, I find myself burdened with a desire to become a bridge between Jesus’ beautiful words and James’ life. We practice for the GED together; over coffee I ask how business is going, whether he has any leads. Until now, there have been none.  

I so badly want to make Jesus’ promise of rest and relief real to James, but whether that will ever happen is a matter of faith.