Scripture Lesson: Luke 12:29-34
In those occasions when I am at my deepest pious and spiritual self during Lent, I seek to be deeply in tune with what I do in my daily life – as a father, as a spouse, as a neighbor, as a leader in the Church. And what is particular about how this internal, self-reflective “in-tuning” happens during Lent is my wanting to make sure I am aware not only of what I do but to why I do it. I want to make sure that what I do is not devoid of meaning. For me, Lent is a season to evaluate and perhaps recalibrate my sense of identity. How fine is the boundary between the call to introspect and self-evaluate that can lead into growth and transformation, and the anxiety to live up to the expectations one and others have… of me… of you.
For those of us, Christians, that follow somewhat closely the flow of the liturgical year, the Lenten season is an intentional shift from what we do as people of faith to who and what we are as children of God. What we do is all fine and well. Having an awareness of why we do those things based on an increased awareness of our identity will not only bring a more profound meaning to what we do, but deeper understanding of our purpose – individual and collective – in our shared vocation of discipleship and service. And yet, for many, this process can be daunting because it goes straight to identity, and identity is often predicated by the expectations systems and individuals have of us – whether perceived or real. Yet, here we are, halfway through Lent, asking ourselves and each other who we are as children of God.
There is much resonance in the words of today’s lesson. This might be particularly true to those of us who were raised in the church. The words “seek ye first the kingdom of God” and “all these things will be added unto you” may have been one of those first words memorized as part of an early Christian formation. Similar words are found in Matthew 6 as well. And perhaps the words some of us are familiar with are those found in Matthew. Evidently these two gospel writers shared a similar source. Yet, there are interesting differences in both gospels in where these words are being said and with whom these words are being shared.
In the gospel of Matthew Jesus is in the middle of a lesson to a multitude. Often known as the Sermon of the Mount, this teaching moment begins in chapter 5 with the Beatitudes, moves into some observations regarding the way we should engage socially and its implications to our testimony, and by chapter 6 focus shifts from social behavior to what we would now call religious practices – prayers, almsgiving, fasting, among others – all meant to stimulate and anchor the spiritual and witnessing lives of the community. Jesus is preaching to hundreds of folks who seem eager to find a new way to engage with each other and the world. Matthew is encouraging his community of readers and listeners - beginning with the Beatitudes, perhaps to be considered as inspiration and aspirations, and ending with the redefined religious rituals – to a set of practices that should lead to a refocusing of how to engage daily life and witness. Beginning in Matthew 6.31 – the portion that reads somewhat similar to our lesson from Luke – there is an invitation to shift our focus. Matthew is inviting his community to shift their attention from the daily anxiety to make sure we live up the social and cultural definition of economic and political stability to the kingdom – that new community and way of being ushered in and gathered by Jesus. The Sermon of the Mount – that collection of teaching to multitudes found in Matthew 5-7 – is Matthew’s primer of what the Kingdom of God is.
Similar to Matthew, Luke is talking about community. The focus is on what is it that keeps a community together and what can attempt against the call to and the unity of community. The difference is who he is talking to. A multitude surrounded Jesus, but Luke clearly states that he was talking to his disciples. The multitude may have been listening, and at times Jesus addresses the multitude. But the core of the teaching in Luke is meant for Jesus’ disciples.
Through a question about prayer at the top of Chapter 11, this narrative flow about community quickly shifts into experiences and circumstances that can attempt against that sense of community. Perhaps there is nothing more powerful that can attempt against stability, unity and community than worry. And even as I confess that I am no expert in the sciences of human behavior, it seems to me that worry is not something that exists in and of itself. It seems to me that worry is a reaction to something, it’s heightened by something else. In the cause and effect spectrum, worry seems to be an effect. Worry, in the gospel of Luke, seems to be the destabilizing force the society of his time – worry that tonight there will not be enough. Worry that if I step a degree or two away from the law or a ritual, I will be unclean and shunned temporarily or permanently from society. Worry that if I say too little, I will not be found faithful. Worry that if I say too much, I will be considered a zealot or an extremist. Worry that if I complain, I will be stripped of the little I have. Worry that if I don’t complain injustice will continue rampant. Worry.
And even as I will be the first to recognize that our reality as 21st century Christians in New Hampshire is quite different to 1st century mostly Jewish multitudes in Palestine, this list of worries seems to be easily translatable to our context and reality. And if you read carefully in chapter 11 and 12, the worries were coming from all sorts of places. At the beginning of the chapter 11, his disciples ask a question, and Jesus responds to them. Then a multitude gathers, a miracle is performed. Folks get confuse and start talking over each other. As a Latin American, I know what it is to have multiple conversation going on at the same time and the skill and energy it takes to keep up. But there just comes a time when managing all that takes a toll – anxiety builds. By the beginning of chapter 12 the mani-layered conversations laid one worry and anxiety over another. Jesus tries at the beginning of chapter 12 to talk to his disciples – to give them some context and leadership skills to navigate the ease with which those in power use worry, fear and anxiety to keep the people under their control.
And what I believe to be good news for us today is not only what Jesus said, but to whom he said it. The conversations about fear and worry and anxiety continued to pile up in this narrative, and then Jesus said to his disciples. That is good news. Jesus said something to his disciples. How is this good news? I’ll tell you – in a time when you turn on the television or the radio, or log on to social media and you seem to be getting the same piece of new all over again, and the way to catch our attention is to see who can deliver and ceaselessly repeat that same piece of news with a higher level of worry and anxiety, to read that Jesus will cut through all that and speak to us, as his disciples, directly is in and of itself good news.
But is does not stop there. Not only does Jesus in Luke speak to the disciples in the middle of an increasingly anxious crowd. His message is both simple and profound – “Don’t worry!”
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing.
…do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.
Don’t Worry! Jesus calls his disciples then and calls us today to shift our focus, shift our energy. To keep our worry focused on what we daily need is enough to fill our minds. If our minds are full of worry, fear and concern we may not have space in our minds to engage with the transformative work of God in our lives, in Bedford Church, in the Bedford community and in the world. If indeed life is more than food and clothing, and God has and will continue to provide us with food, raiment, and opportunity, what would it be to strive for the right things, to strive for life, to strive for the kingdom of Jesus – that community that not simply dreams, but lives in and for peace, hope, justice and love? Our value, and the value of the things we can bring or do is not to be measured through monetization. The value of the things we bring and do is measured by the level in which we strive for life.
Curious word “strive”. Some of us might have learned one of the key verses of our lesson as “seek ye first the Kingdom”. To seek, to find. But the New Revised Standard Version uses the word “strive”. To seek is to search. It also means to attempt, to try. To strive, on the other hand, is to try hard, to vigorously exert oneself, to contend, to struggle. There seems to be an expectation of continuous and vigorous effort in striving.
May we strive for life and God’s Kingdom. May we strive for the right things. May the opportunity for self-examination of this Lenten season free us from worry, concern and anxiety. As people of God let us strive not to survive, but to live, to cease the gift of life abundant given freely by Christ, and to share that gift far and wide beyond these walls.
In the name of the
Father,
and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.