I wish I didn't worry, and I don’t think I even
qualify as a compulsive worrier. I'm
pretty affable and easy going. That's a genuine part of my personality, and not
a masquerade. And my life is full of God's goodness many orders of magnitude
beyond anything I might have reasonably expected, earned, and deserved. But yet
there are times I do worry.
I even worried when I was a small child. I vividly remember those commercials on
television that featured Smokey the Bear.
Maybe some of you remember them too.
They would zoom in on a smoldering campfire and then pan out to a full
blown conflagration. Smokey would then
come on the screen, look straight into the camera and say, “Only you
can prevent forest fires.” I took
that personally and I really, really worried about it. Smokey came to our elementary school one day
and I just had to let him know that I didn’t think I was up to the
job…I told him I would do my best, but I figured I was going to need some
help.
One thing I have been worrying about
quite a bit lately is the fact that my memory just ain’t
what it used to be. I’ve always
had trouble remembering names, but there are other indicators that I am getting
somewhat forgetful…like opening the refrigerator door and not remembering
what I am looking for, or even worse, opening it and wondering why in the world
the iron is on the second shelf. I make more to-do lists these days, and I find
it so satisfying to look at those dark horizontal slashes through each line
item when I complete the task. But I
worry now that those lists might soon need to include things like brush your
teeth or put on your underwear.
My grandmother Trudy was a "nervous
Nelly." Her little salt box house was as neat as a pin, and she made
sure you didn't get it dirty. She
worried about every little dust bunny and cob web. But she lived through two
world wars and the great depression, so I suppose she had good reason to
worry. My own mother inherited similar
traits, but with much darker outcomes. So,
I may come by my worry thanks in part to the random roll of the genetic
dice. I don’t like to spend a lot
of time thinking about this though because that really makes me worry. Like everyone, a lifetime of small choices
has also shaped my character bit by bit. I'm sure that in some important ways
my interior psyche reflects the accumulation of these thousands of choices.
And it is certainly true that powerful
cultural forces feed worry. In recent years we've seen just how
manipulative and powerful a politics of fear can be. Our capitalist economy
legitimizes greed, creates artificial wants and needs, perfects advertising
techniques that shape our attitudes, and makes sure that money, no matter how
much or little you have, is our number one worry. No one is immune from these
and other powerful cultural forces. I
try not to be too hard on myself. Some worry is part of normal human nature. We
ought to worry about some things — like how to help
No one should imagine that they'll ever
be entirely free of worry. The apostle Paul once said that he was
"harassed at every turn — conflicts on the outside, fears
within" (2 Corinthians 7:5). He admitted that he worried about
"all the churches" (2 Corinthians 11:28). The early desert monastics counseled Christians to "expect trials until
your last breath." And St. Makarios of
But there comes a tipping point when
normal worries become unhealthy anxieties. There comes a time when we ought to
worry about our worry. It's impossible to generalize exactly how, when and why
this happens. It's been said of pornography, and even of love, that it might be
hard to define, but you know it when you see it. I don't know if I worry too
much, but I will say this — the very familiar words of Jesus in this
week's Gospel resonate with something deep in my soul. I wish that I could
consistently live in the way that he describes.
I try to but I often get distracted.
Distraction is what Jesus is talking
about in our Gospel lesson for this morning. The Sermon on the Mount is
full of warnings about allowing extraneous things to distract disciples from
following Jesus and pursuing his reign. It’s not the first time that
Jesus will caution us about things that might take away the single-minded focus
he requires. He tells us to take up our crosses and follow him, which is
another way of saying that we must willingly bear the price of obedience. We
must count the cost. We must know that Jesus’ way is not an easy way. That’s right … Jesus’ way
is a narrow, difficult, demanding way. It can be rewarding, but it also
requires some tough choices. It has to be our number one priority. And, once we
decide to go down that road, we can’t look back.
Jesus tells us that the biggest distractions
around is wealth. He says, “You can’t worship two gods.
It’s either God or money. You can’t serve both.” If you made
a top ten list of things that can sidetrack Christians … that can derail
them from serving God … “stuff” … wealth … would
have to be at the top of the list. It seems
like accumulating and serving “stuff” is built into our nature.
It’s certainly reinforced in our culture. We believe that we need the new
and improved … the bigger and better. We want more and more. And to get
it we will go deeper and deeper in debt.
Culture tells us that the way to be truly worry-free is to amass enough
stuff – life insurance, retirement, stock options. But the sad truth is
that the goal is more elusive than the quest. We get sucked in. We lose
ourselves along the way, and we forget that we were meant to live for so much
more than stuff. Slowly and subtly we
get distracted from seeking God’s reign and justice, and instead we get
encumbered by worry over obtaining and maintaining our “stuff.”
Our idolatry of money is not as
explicit as prostrating ourselves before it or praying to it. It is much more
subtle than that. Perhaps that makes it more insidious. Our allegiance, our
worship, our time, our energy is slowly, almost imperceptibly, transferred from
worshiping God to money. We start to worry about how much our call to discipleship
will cost us financially … rather than worrying about what refusing
opportunities for discipleship might cost us spiritually. Maybe that’s
part of the reason somebody thought it a good idea to stamp a reminder on our money:
It’s in God we trust, not the coin of the realm.
Jesus’ words are meant as a
wake-up call. “Hey, you can’t worship two gods. You’ll
end up fully committed to one and despising the other. You can’t serve
Almighty God and the almighty dollar. Look around. Sparrows don’t farm, but
the Creator feeds them. Lilies don’t work in the fashion industry, but
God clothes them more spectacularly than Versace. If God takes care of common birds and
wildflowers, don’t you think you will also be taken care of … you
who are made in God’s image? Jesus
offers great advice, and he repeats himself five times: "Don't
worry," says Jesus (Matthew 6:25, 27, 28, 31, 34).
Don't worry about your life, for your heavenly Father knows what you need.
Listen to the birds and consider how God cares for them. Look at the flowers
and learn from their effortless beauty. Don't worry about wealth like the
pagans do, for despite what the advertisers say, your life doesn't consist of
your possessions. Don't fret about the past that is over and done with …
or obsess about the future over which you have no control … but rather
learn to enjoy the present moment.
While Jesus compared God to a tender
father, the Old Testament readings this week compare him to a strong
mother. "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast / and have no
compassion on the child she has borne? / Though she may forget you, I will not
forget you! / See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands" (Isaiah
49:15–16). "I have stilled and quieted my soul," says the
psalmist, "like a weaned child with its mother" (Psalm 131:2). These
analogies to a parent's care pale in comparison to the reality of divine
compassion.
The English mystic and Benedictine nun
Julian of
So don’t worry about anything,
especially not tomorrow. God is providing for you today, and God will be there
tomorrow.” This day and every day, we can be reassured that because of
the certainty of God’s boundless love that, "All shall be well, and
all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."
May we pray?
Lord Jesus Christ, like the crowds on the mountain who sought after your
wisdom and guidance, we want to be schooled by you. Your words are read, and
you are here speaking to us. Help us leave behind our cares and concerns. Help
us to quiet our minds and still our souls that we may be open vessels prepared
to be filled by you. Your word is a lamp to our feet and a light to our path.
Teach us to walk as your disciples.
Mary Anne Biggs, Pastor
Nekoosa United
Nekoosa