Matthew 6: 25-34
“Stuffed”
November 18, 2018
So many of the words that we find in the New Testament are letters, also known as Epistles that were written to folks in far-flung locations. They are meant to provide encouragement and hope on how to be the church that follows the lead that Jesus established. This week when our attention turns to gratitude, I am choosing the almost lost art of letter writing:
Dear Jesus,
Since so much of what has been passed down to us about you came from letters, I figured I would try this way of talking to you and let the folks here gathered with me on this Sabbath day listen in. Over 100 years ago that very famous British writer of Alice in Wonderland fame noted that “The proper definition of a man is an animal that writes letters.” Lewis Carroll may have missed a few other distinguishing features but we get his drift.
I hope you don’t mind if I vent a bit on this one part of your great Sermon on the Mount. You have so many insightful things to say about love, promises, revenge, and being generous in this amazing speech so don’t get me wrong – I appreciate all of the effort here but I wrestle with your teachings when you talk about being anxious and worried. You say we are to put our trust in you which actually makes perfect sense if you’re like me – a middle-class educated white woman living in the United States who has a supportive extended family and a full refrigerator and a closet and multiple drawers filled with more clothes then I will wear. I get it – to spend time obsessing about more of the things that my shelves are already groaning with is not a great sign that I’ve put my trust in God. You want us to adopt an abundance mindset and find some comfort in the birds and flowers that do not sweat (do birds sweat?) about these issues. You want us to reach a state of contentment with what we have and recognize and give thanks for all of it. Could it be also that what you want is for us to transform our sense of thanksgiving into care for each other? I, and folks like me, have to give up looking at the world through scarcity lenses. Recognizing that scarcity creates fear and fear makes us want to hold on tighter and we let ourselves become beholden to those we think will keep us safe. You must know that feeling, Jesus, because after all wasn’t it fear of you that made them kill you? The way we see it in hindsight is that those folks who were in charge in Jerusalem were threatened by your message of abundance. They thought they would look weak if compared to God who could provide so much. We both know that fear is a powerful way to control folks and without fear it’s a lot tougher to keep people in line.
Sadly, fear is still used as a motivator and tactic by leaders of all kinds now in the 21st century. Honestly, Jesus, we must recognize that the kind of power in this new Kingdom you came to proclaim would also have to be shared with all of those folks that had little or none of it when you arrived, like women, the sick, the poor and slaves. You were pretty clear when you said “For I was hungry and you gave me to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in.” (Matthew 25) You were including all those people that needed so much. We had then, and have now, the power to change their lives for the better in this new Kingdom way of living. Why is it so hard for us to live with less worry and to recognize that we can choose love over fear? Like one of your great followers Thomas Aquinas said, “Fear is such a powerful emotion for humans that when we allow it to take us over, it drives compassion right out of our hearts.”
Here’s the problem, Jesus: I still have worries but they’re not so much for food or clothes – they’re bigger worries. Right now these are some of the worries that eat at me at different times:
- Kim Jong-un in North Korea or Vladimir Putin in Russia or our own President will decide that war is the only answer to our differences.
- After the devastating fires in California are brought under control, the damage there and in so many other parts of our nation and world will be irreparable. We are saddling our children and grandchildren with environmental after-effects that will be lasting and life threatening.
- That those who have no health insurance or inadequate health insurance or access will die before we figure out a better way to take care of each other.
- That opioid addiction will become so commonplace that we will become immune to it disturbing us and stop caring.
- That our prison population will soon exceed our ability to see a different future.
- We will continue to divide into two or more nations and not even recognize each other and care about each other.
I realize you do not operate with a magic wand, Jesus, and that these worries are generated when I lose sight of the power of God to be present and provide strength in the face of a world that has always been filled with scary possibilities.
Could it be that what you want us to take away from this particular passage is the notion that worry should not define us? To become consumed by worry means we have less space for the love and compassion to which we’re called, doesn’t it, Jesus? It was the writer and activist Corrie Ten Boom who pointed out that, “Worry does not empty tomorrow of sorrow, it empties today of its strength.” Now that was a woman who had plenty of reasons to worry. She wrote those words after getting arrested for helping her Jewish friends and neighbors in the Netherlands during World War II while she was a prisoner of war in a concentration camp, having survived the deaths of many family and friends by the Nazis. Instead of worry she turned toward gratitude.
This Thursday, on the day set aside 157 years ago as a day of Thanksgiving, we will each come to the table, wherever that may be, bringing ourselves and that which fills us up to a shared meal and a time to come together in deep gratitude. Here’s a thought, Jesus – maybe that table might be a fitting place to set free the worries weighing us down and instead, amid favorite recipes handed down and newer traditions just beginning, leave some room for gratitude to take the place of worry. Perhaps we could reflect on the words President Abraham Lincoln used in declaring a single day of Thanksgiving for the nation to be held on this Thursday in November: “The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God.
Could it be, Jesus, that in referencing birds and flowers – the beauty of creation – you are reminding us of our place in God’s immensely beautiful world, a place that will not be changed by our worry? Here’s what I propose, Jesus – we allow ourselves to be stuffed to the gills with gratitude. We could try and see if our list, shared or silent, becomes so long that we fill that space previously given to worry with gratitude. Who knows, maybe a new habit will emerge – one in which we let go of worry and embrace thanksgiving as a way of life. Stay well, Jesus – we need you now more than ever.
With loving devotion, Kathy.