February 27, 2011

The Eighth Sunday after the Epiphany: Matthew 6:24-34

Don’t worry, that was the advice Jesus gave to his disciples.  They were not to worry about the clothes they should wear or what they would eat and drink.  Life was more than food or clothing or length of days.  Life consists of seeking God’s kingdom.

Did they take his advice?  Do you?  Often we worry about the silliest things.  An invitation to a party arrives.  Will it be dressy or casual, this dress, that tie, and what about those shoes?  Oh dear, I haven’t got a thing to wear!

Or how about this e-mail forwarded to me by a friend who appears to have raised worry to an art form:

Why is a boxing ring square?

What do people in China call their best dinnerware?

Why is abbreviated such a long word? And

What was the greatest thing before sliced bread?

Yet, joking aside, I am often made aware of the dreadful burden of worry that many people carry.  Worries about family or about health, financial worries, worries about school or work, worries about faith, people worried about something that happened long ago – the memory of which continues to haunt and trouble them.

Evidently worry is as much a part of the human experience as pleasure and laughter and enjoyment.  And while it is easy to poke fun at people who are never satisfied unless they have something to worry about, we also know that worry can be insidious.  Like a black cloud hanging over you, worry can dominate your life, eat away at your soul, sap your energy and destroy your confidence.  And to people who worry Jesus says: Therefore I tell you do not worry about your life.

The advice comes from that section of Matthew’s Gospel known as the Sermon on the Mount.  Beginning with the Beatitudes, the different kinds of people blessed by God, the poor in spirit, the meek, those who mourn, Jesus explains what it means to belong to the kingdom of God.  In a series of quite breathtaking images, Jesus contradicts many of the values not just of his own day but of ours too.

You have heard it said, an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, but I tell you to turn the other cheek and walk the second mile.

You have heard it said, love your neighbor and hate your enemy, but I tell you to love your enemy and pray for those who persecute you.

Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye and ignore the plank in your own?

Do not store up for yourself treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy, but store up treasures in heaven.

The sentiments are magnificent but they raise the question as to whether Jesus was being hopelessly naïve.  Did he really expect people to live according to values in such conflict with the ideals and values of the world?

On one level I think all of Jesus’ teaching is directed towards broadening our horizons.  Time and time again we read about him taking the hopes and dreams, hurts and longings of the people and setting them within the broader context of God’s kingdom.

On a deeper level Jesus wanted people to know that God could be trusted, especially when the immediate evidence appeared to contradict such trust.  And it is trust that lies at the heart of his teaching about worry, his absolute belief in the trustworthiness of God.  It was a conviction with deep roots in the Old Testament tradition.  In that best loved of all Psalms, the Psalmist seeks to dispel worry by reminding his reader who God is:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…

The Psalmist is persuaded that there is no need to worry because wherever the path of life leads, even if it leads into the valley of the shadow of death, God can be trusted to be our comfort and guide.

It is a message repeated by the prophets.  Knowing that the circumstances of life can weary even the young and strong, Isaiah told his people not to worry.  God grew neither tired nor weary.  And what is more, those who placed their trust in God would find their strength renewed, they would soar on wings like eagles (Is 40:28).

The imagery is powerful and has been a source of enormous comfort and inspiration.  Of course, the cynic would say that it is easy to trust God when life is good and all is well in the world and the future looks bright.  But that is just the point the prophet wanted his readers to grasp.

Far from a time of national prosperity, the prophet addressed a people in exile at a time when the fortunes of God’s people were at their lowest ebb.  In short, Israel had plenty to worry about.  And far from being an act of blind optimism, the prophetic words of Isaiah were a mark of the deepest soul searching.

The theological term describing what I’m talking about is providence, the conviction that above and beyond the activity of human beings stands the presence and purpose of God.  To believe in providence is not to believe that God is a puppeteer, pulling the strings, deciding what we should do, and denying us any kind of moral freedom of choice or moral responsibility.

Rather, providence is the conviction that creation is an expression of God’s love, that God’s will permeates the history of the world and that it found its fullest expression in the life and teachings, the death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth.

The problem is that there is not much evidence in support of providence.  As the Sunday newspapers will doubtless confirm, evidence from so many parts of the world clearly demonstrates that the world is not at ease or at peace with itself.  And far from discerning the presence and purpose of God, many would find themselves in sympathy with the great historian Edward Gibbon who declared that history is little more than a register of the crimes, follies and misfortunes of mankind.  It would appear that there is plenty for us to worry about.

Yet that is just the point, then and now Jesus calls disciples to see things differently, to hold to ideals and values that the world does not own and to trust in the trustworthiness of God.  Far from being hopelessly naïve, Jesus spoke from experience.  He knew all about suffering and confronted it daily in those who came to him for help.  He knew how difficult life could be and how its difficulties could sometimes threaten to overwhelm us.  And from his own personal experience of anguish and betrayal, he knew how unfair and undeserving life can be.

But through it all he kept faith that the purpose of God’s love would prevail.  And on the third day it did.  And because it did we are able to face the challenges and opportunities of life bravely, hopefully and in the assurance that as we seek the kingdom of God we have nothing to worry about.  Amen.