Do Not Fear
Joel 2: 21-27   Matthew 6: 25-33
A sermon by the Reverend Odette Lockwood-Stewart

(Once again the preached and printed sermons not twins, just cousins)

Jesus said “Do not worry.”  He said, “Do not be filled with anxiety about your life, what you will eat or drink, or how you will clothe your body.  Is not life more significant than nourishment and the body more significant than clothing ... Do not then be filled with anxiety about tomorrow, for tomorrow will have its own share of anxiety.”

That’s true enough.  But isn’t that just another thing to worry about?

I have a confession to make.  I worry.  I get anxious.

Have any of you ever... worried?
Some of us are Olympic gold medal worriers.  Anyone here?
Have you ever had someone say to you: “Don’t worry?”
Did you stop worrying? ... or did it tick you off?
 
We can easily see that worry wastes human energy.  Worry distorts perception of reality.  Worry does not foster wisdom. It tends to drive us toward desperation.  We minimize good and magnify bad news. We catastrophize, envisioning worst possible scenarios.  I excel at what I call anticipatory anxiety.

Worry drives us to be consumed by what we are not, rather than accepting who we are.  Worry forces us to focus on what we do not have rather than gratitude for what we do have. It is not a question of what we need, but what we serve ... what dominates our thinking, our caring, our living.

Worry can be insidious.  Arthur Somers Roche wrote, “Worry is a thin stream of fear trickling through the mind. If encouraged, it cuts a channel into which all other thoughts are drained.” 

In our Gospel lesson, Jesus says “do not worry” three times:
Do not worry about your life.
Do not worry about what you will eat, what you will drink.
Do not worry about what you will wear.

In her commentary on this passage, Luise Schottroff writes, “Jesus does not argue for hunger, or for asceticism, but he does not want bread to have the last word, for it (food, clothing) to be appointed lord over human beings and God.”

That strikes to the heart of the trouble about worry ... worry assumes a position of primary power in our lives.  What we worry about can overshadow everything else.  “Do not worry.  Do not be filled with anxiety. Do not be preoccupied. Do not be absorbed.” And underlying all these, “Do not fear.”  Let us fill our hearts, minds, souls, strength with love and striving towards God’s Kindom.  

Jesus was speaking to his disciples, those who left everything and everyone to follow him.  They had good cause to worry.  The economic conditions in Palestine were not good.  Natural disasters, famine, political oppression were the context for these words from the sermon on the mount.  

Jesus’ words of assurance to the disciples did not tell them that everything would be fine, that they would not suffer.  He did not tell them that they had nothing to fear.  He told them to “Consider the lilies....”  He asked them to consider, to ponder, and to live in beauty and gratitude and trust in God, the source of creation, even for daily bread and daily decisions.

John Chrysostom, in the 4th century, commented on this text: “Jesus put an end not to the work, but to the care... the anxious thought...let us not therefore be anxious, for we shall gain nothing by it, but tormenting ourselves...in trust, we set our souls free from anxiety...”

How did Jesus help us to put an end to anxious thought?  He said,
“Consider the lilies...” “Look at the birds...”  

In a letter to a friend Emily Dickinson wrote that “Consider the lilies of the field” was the only commandment she never broke.”  I find it is one I rarely obey.  

Last Monday I drove to Zephyr Point, Nevada on southeast shore of Lake Tahoe for a meeting of 250 United Methodist clergy.  My car was crammed with bags of books and workpapers.  My head and heart were crammed with lists and dialogues and prayers and... worries about where I was going,... worries about what I was leaving behind.

Then a strange thing happened.  I began paying attention to where I was.  I began noticing the trees.  The magnificent golden, brown and orange leaves.  Then I noticed... I was alone.  I turned off the radio. I turned off the lists and inner dialogues, even the prayers with words, and considered the beauty before me.

Jesus said, “Consider the lilies of the field ... they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you Solomon in all his glory was not adorned like one of these.”

Still driving (attentively, of course)... I considered the mountains, the trees, the beauty ... and I was grateful.  Nothing had shifted, except my attention.

We’re going clear some space for grace at Epworth.  Next Sunday we begin the season of Advent, the four weeks of preparation leading up to Christmas, we are going to clear away space to be – in worship, in prayer, in song, in expectation.  There will be opportunities for communion, silent meditation, prayer, Bible Study, caroling and community every week and through the week.  There will be no announcements, no business meetings unless absolutely essential.

We will do as a community what the season of Advent invites us each and all to do ... prepare the way of the Lord ... turn hope into expectation ... be attentive to the power of love being born in and around and through us.

Environmentalist, entrpreneur, author, Paul Hawken, in his Commencement address at the College of Natural Resources in June of this year, said, “When asked if I am pessimistic or optimistic about the future, my answer is always the same: if you look at the science about what is happening on earth and aren’t pessimistic, you don’t understand the data.  But if you meet the people who are working to restore this earth and the lives of the poor, and you aren’t optimistic, you haven’t got a pulse. What I see everywhere in the world are ordinary people willing to confront despair, power, and incalculable odds in order to restore some semblance of grace, justice, and beauty to this world.”

There’s always more than enough to worry about.  And it’s important to honestly name and feel and face our fears. But just as Jesus didn’t want bread to have the last word, we don’t want fear or worry to have the last word.

Anne Lamott once said, “Courage is fear that has said its prayers.”

Jesus said, “Do not fear ...”  “Consider the lilies...” It is a radical call to life and beauty in the midst of struggle.

Amen.