February 27, 2011
(Eighth Sunday after the Epiphany)
(From The Lectionary Page)
Worry
Today’s gospel features Jesus’ discourse about the human art of worrying. I have to admit to you, that the first image that comes to my mind when I hear it, is that of Charlie Brown sitting at Lucy’s little stand, trying to rid himself of his perpetual anxiety. In one episode, he begins to explain to her a recent breakthrough in his struggle for peace. “I've developed a new philosophy,” he tells her as she files her nails. “I’ve learned to dread just one day at a time.”[1] Unfortunately, that’s about as far as we often get, in trying to ingest today’s gospel reading.
Theologically, today’s gospel passage is an immensely important text. In these verses, we find our way to the very core, of the social aspect of our faith. We learn why it is that worry opposes God’s kingdom. And we learn something of how this worry takes shape in our lives, as well as the part that we so often play in its perpetuation.
But first, it’s important to know, that when Jesus tells us not to worry, he is not belittling those who are concerned about their needs. We have to be concerned about them on some level, or else we surely will not have them. What he says about worry, seems to have more to do, with its evolution into fear. When we fear that we may not have enough, then that fear will tend to become the basis, upon which we make decisions at crucial moments.
For example – if we have enough money right now, but feed a vague fear, that this money will one day run out, we will tend toward the building of bigger barns, in which to store excess, against that day – a day that may never come. That fear, that worry, will lean us toward stockpiling and hoarding for ourselves, rather than looking beyond ourselves, to those whose need is now: whose worry is not simply a fear in their mind, but a current reality. Worry, in the sense that Jesus seems to refer, is essentially a fear, for one’s own well-being. To give one’s worries to God, then, is to leave energy and resources for us to participate in God’s kingdom, by using those same resources as tools by which to care for others.
Jesus tells us not to“…worry about what you will eat or drink, or about your body, what you will wear.” It’s no mere coincidence that, near the end of Matthew’s gospel, it is these same items that Jesus will use to identify his followers. Jesus will be heard to separate people as sheep from goats, based on what they did with food, drink, and clothing (Matthew 25:35). There’s a connection being made here. Trusting God for such things is the tool that allows us to focus on God’s kingdom, making it to take shape here and now. Worry, it seems, is the wall that, over time, begins to separate us from the kingdom. It directs our energy away from others and toward ourselves.
There’s an old Cherokee story about a man who talked to his grandson about being human. “There are two wolves inside all of us,” he said. “They constantly battle each other. One is evil, and the other is good.” His grandson thought for a moment, and asked his grandfather which wolf wins. The grandfather replied simply, “The one you feed.”[2] While the dichotomy presented here is troubling if you take it too far, I think that this story relates well to Jesus’ teaching on worry. We are constantly making choices, consciously or not. And those choices often send us down very different paths.
When we share our time, our gifts, and our money with others, knowing that these are limited resources that we may need, simply because Jesus asked us too, it is no small thing. Then the very kingdom of God is at hand, and we are knee deep in it. Over time, this choice begins to create in us what we call a virtue, a holy habit.
Our Lord has said to us, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16: 24 – 25). It is certain that what I am suggesting here will rarely make things more comfortable for most of us here. But I also believe that we are nevertheless called to do such things.
So, what Jesus seems to be saying to us, is that our choosing to feed worry, takes us down a radically different road than choosing to love others. This understanding of the worry that Jesus teaches about today suggests to us, that the cost of worry, is no less than love itself. We can’t worry and love others at the same time. At all times, in all decisions, we are feeding one or the other. “No one can serve two masters.”
[1] Charlie Brown (Charles Schulz):
http://www.quotegarden.com/worry.html (accessed on 2/10/2011)
[2] This version of the story comes from the
following blog:
http://naush.wordpress.com/2008/08/28/be-careful-which-wolf-you-feed/ ,
accessed on 2/15/2011
