To listen to the sermon as it was preached at the 9:00 am service, click here.
To listen to the sermon as it was preached at the 10:45 am service, click here.
St. Charles Episcopal Church - St. Charles, IL
February 27, 2011 ~ The 8th Sunday after the Epiphany
Isaiah 49:8-16a; Psalm 131, 1 Corinthians 4:1-5, Matthew 6:24-34
The Rev. Liz Meade
“Why Are You Wearing Your Anxiety?”
Why are you wearing your anxiety? This is the rather odd question my friend Brad Pace asked his friends on Facebook earlier this week. His question got an amazing 22 responses, some funny, some very revealing. Here are a few of my favorite answers: Why are you wearing your anxiety?
· Because my anxiety fits better than my confidence.
· Because everything else was in the laundry.
· Because its comfy.
· Because when I wear “anxiety” it means “back the heck off, bucko.”
And finally, Elizabeth wrote, “because although I like to be in control of every aspect of my life, deep down I know that I am not in control, and the chasm between the control I crave and the control I know I don’t have is ANXIETY.” Today’s Gospel is about what we do with our anxiety. One of the hardest things on this faith journey of ours we are called to do is to be willing to “Let go and Let God.” The scriptures are filled with admonishments about being fearful or fretful. In Advent, the angel tells Mary not to be afraid. On Christmas, the angels tell the shepherds not to be afraid. Throughout scripture, we are repeatedly told to “Fear not,” or warned not to be anxious. In Paul’s letter to the Philippians we are given the secret to experiencing the peace of God.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition and with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God which passes all understanding will guard your hearts in Christ Jesus.” (Phil 4: 6-7)
Being anxious, however, seems to be a fact of our human condition. All of us worry from time to time, even if we don’t classify ourselves as “worriers.” And at a lecture recently, I learned from a psychologist and theologian that fear and anxiety plague those of us who live here in the Global North much more than they affect those who live in the Third World. ISN’T that weird? That we live with more anxiety than those in Southern Sudan or Port au Prince? Why are we more fearful in our comfort and abundance than those facing dire poverty and totalitarian governments?
Why are you wearing your anxiety?
Jon and Pam took their only child Gillian on a trip to Disney World because, let’s face it, Disney World is on every 6 year old’s bucket list. Pam had scoured the Internet for places to stay and age appropriate rides for Gillian, but Patty ruined everything. Patty is 9 and lives next door, and she is the neighborhood expert on Disney World. “You have to go on the BEST ride at Disney World: Space Mountain,” Patty instructed. After that, all bets were off. Gillian was no longer going to Disney World, Gillian was going to Space Mountain. As they walked toward the iconic entrance of the famous ride, Jon and Pam were sure Gillian would lose her nerve, but she didn’t. Gillian and her dad waited in the line, and finally got into their starship, and took the amazing ride through outer space at warp speed. After the ride, Gillian’s mother was surprised to see her daughter emerge energized and laughing.
Two years later, Jon had a business conference in Orlando, and the family decided to return to Disney World. Again, Gillian and her dad waited in the interminably long line for Space Mountain. As they waited, she read the warning signs: marveling that pregnant women, people with heart conditions, back conditions, diabetes, and the elderly should not take the ride. And just as they were about to get in their starship, Gillian tugged at her dad’s arm, “Dad, I don’t want to do this,” Gillian pleaded. “Why, honey,” her dad said, surprised, “You love this ride. You rode it two years ago when you were only 6 and had a great time.” “Yeah,” said Gillian, “but back then I couldn’t read the signs.”
When we were young, most of us trusted deeply in our parents’ love for us. We trusted that we would be fed, clothed, loved, and protected. We trusted their love. But as time went on, we figured out just how dangerous the world could be. We worried about monsters under our beds and about ghosts. We heard from imaginative friends just how many bad things were out there lurking – waiting to “get” us – and. Somewhere along the way, we lost faith in our parents’ ability to protect us. So it is with faith. A young child will pray by the side of her bed and talk to God utterly unselfconsciously. There is no doubt. No fear. No shame. Not so with most of the adults I know.
Why are you wearing your anxiety? Because things change.
In today’s gospel, Jesus doing a couple of things. First, he’s warning his disciples not to succumb to worry. They lived under a totalitarian regime, the Roman forces were fear mongerers, and yet Jesus tried to alleviate their anxieties. “Do not worry about your life. Do not worry saying, ‘What shall we eat, What shall we drink, or what shall we wear?’” The Lord knows human nature all too well. He knows that when we are consumed by worry, we cannot do anything else.
It was April of 1995, and we were on Spring Break in Sedona, Arizona. One morning when the weather was perfect, Gary and I decided it would be a good day to make the 3 hour drive north to Grand Canyon. When we arrived at the South Entry Gate – in the sunshine – we saw a hand lettered sign saying: “Fog in the Canyon Today. No refunds.” Well, we had driven 3 hours, so we paid and drove to the Rim. The Rangers didn’t lie. We could not see any of the canyon; it was filled with fog; the densest fog I have ever walked in. We walked along the rim trail for awhile, describing the canyon to the best of our ability, and the boys tossed pinecones and snowballs over the edge. But we could see nothing. We finally left, disappointed, and decided to stop at the newly opened IMAX theater to see the movie called “The Grand Canyon Experience.” And suddenly, there it was! The Grand Canyon both Gary and I know, the canyon we’ve flown through in a small Cessna (when they still let you do that sort of thing): the sweeping vistas, the perfect weather, and the glorious painted rocks! Within the first 5 minutes of the film, Alex climbed frantically into my lap sobbing. “What’s the matter?” I whispered, wondering if he was sick. Gulping for air, his little 8 yr. old face buried in my shoulder, he shuddered, “You never told me how big it was……. I could have fallen in!”
Worry can and will consume us. Alex not only missed the Grand Canyon because of fog; he missed the stunning beauty of one of the Seven Wonders of the World in the IMAX theater because of his fear.
Jesus points to a better way. In all the poetry of the passage, all the references to lilies, Solomon’s splendor, and birds of the air, it is easy to miss it. So here it is:
“Therefore, do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat’ or ‘What will we drink’ or “What will we wear,’ for it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”
It is not as though Jesus wants us to simply loll about considering lilies all day. Jesus wants us and expects us to strive: To strive for the Kingdom of God. And when we are consumed by our fears, anxious about all that might go wrong in our lives, we forget to strive. Yet it is in the striving that we find God and his righteousness. It is in the striving that we discover just how very present God is. We begin to notice God’s grace. We begin to see miracles. We can’t do that if we are so self-involved that we don’t look up and out.
That is why the people of Southern Sudan are less fearful than we are here in the Global North. The Christians in Port au Prince find hope in their plight because in having nothing, they must look out and up to find hope. (To turn inward would be too painful.) Hope is found in looking outward. So this passage, for all of its poetry, is less about saying “shame on you, you worriers.”
It’s about striving. Striving for the kingdom of God.
My mother always used to say, “If you’re feeling down, do something nice for somebody else.” Ohhhh, how I HATED that expression some days! But there’s great wisdom there. Getting out of ourselves, out of our worries, and bringing the kingdom of God to someone else is a great antidote.
So, “Why are you wearing your anxiety?”
Get up. Look out. You might just be missing the Grand Canyon – or the kingdom of God. Amen.