There is a story about a man who prays to God for deliverance during a flood that sweeps through his town. While he is praying, one of the last cars to leave town drives by, And the driver yells to the man to climb in. “No thanks!” the man yells back, “God will save me.” A while later, when the flood has risen so that the man has had to move into the second story of his home, a group is rowing by in a lifeboat, and calls out to the man to join them.
Again, the man refuses the help, saying, “God will save me.” Finally, the flood waters have forced the man onto his roof, and a rescue helicopter comes to fly him to safety, by try as they might, they cannot get the man to board. “I don’t need your help!” he insists. “God will save me!” Of course, the man drowns, and when he is face to face with God, he is quite indignant, demanding in a terse voice, “Lord, I had such faith that you would rescue me! Why did you let me drown?” And looking exasperated, God replies, “Well I sent you a car, a raft and a helicopter! What more did you want?!”
God provides for us in so many ways, but not always in the way that we want. God is always giving us good gifts, but we do not always recognize them. We stare up into heaven expecting miracles to come from the clouds, and all the time, the answer to our prayer is being sent by God through the heart and hands of those around us.
Today’s Gospel passage is likely to be familiar to many of you, a beautiful metaphor for those who tend to worry too much, reassuring us that God will care for our needs. But it is not only that. True, God wants us not to waste our lives worrying about things we cannot control. But more importantly, God wants us to see that we share a vital role in how God cares for each of us.
Last week, Chaplain Stacy shared with us in her sermon the way that the created world echoes the reality of the Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit exist as divine relationship, just as we are meant to live in relationship with God and one another. Our deepest reality, too, is discovered in relationship. We must understand this first, before we go to today’s text. Otherwise, it seems a bit disjointed that the Gospel says, “You cannot serve God and wealth.” And then moves directly to, “Do not worry about your life.” We might wonder why the Gospel writer put these two thoughts together. Toward the end of the passage, we read, “But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you, as well. So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own.”
Does what we hear and understand depend upon our current circumstances? I’m going to bet that it does—it certainly has for me in the past. At a time in my life when I sometimes couldn’t afford to buy groceries or pay bills, I begrudged this passage. How could I not worry about what I was going to eat or wear? I worried about it constantly!
And for millions of people who live at or below the poverty line it would seem impossible not to worry about how to feed and clothe their families from day to day. If you are experiencing grief or pain in your life right now, The promises of this passage might seem hollow. Where is God’s answer to your prayer? How can you be expected not to worry about your life?
For those who are at the other end of the spectrum, and have enough (or more than enough) of the things we need, we might hear something very different. Maybe we ought to get our priorities straight. Instead of worrying about the little things, we should concentrate on being grateful for the blessings we have. I think, however, that this passage holds a lesson that goes a bit deeper, beyond worrying and gratitude. It all hinges on relationship. If God truly means for us not to worry-- that all we need has been provided-- can we really trust that this is true?
Absolutely.
But there’s good news and there’s bad news. The good news is, God has provided all that the world needs, and it has been provided in abundance. The bad news is that we’re holding it back. Plain and simple: there is a disproportionate hording of the resources that God has provided for the wellbeing of all the earth’s people. In the Gospel of Luke, we read that, “Of those to whom much has been given, much will be expected.”
The modern translation of that passage is found secularly in the first Spiderman movie, spoken by Uncle Ben, “With great power comes great responsibility.”
It all hinges on relationship. Remember, the Gospel does not tell us that we cannot serve God and have wealth. It says that we cannot serve both God and wealth. If we have much in the way of wealth or power, we must determine that it will not enslave us. Our resources will either be masters of us, or else we will master them, using them as tools to serve the common good. Thus, we can choose deliberately to seek God’s kingdom and His righteousness first, and everything that we need will be provided.
The risk God took in creating the world in this way, is that the good of everyone depends not on individuals looking out for themselves, but on all people recognizing their interrelatedness and connection. It requires that I look at you and you look at me, and that we acknowledge the spark of the divine in each other. The Indian culture calls this “Namaste.” God took a pretty big risk in this setup. The problem of worry has been the same for people of every generation. We’re perpetually afraid to be generous with what we have, worrying that we won’t have enough later on. Beyond that, we develop a disproportionate sense of what constitutes “enough.” Take for example the portion of food that is served in most restaurants today. Given the average number of calories that an adult man or woman actually needs per day, the portions are enough to satisfy two, if not three, adults, instead of just one. But many will eat to beyond what they need, and never think of it as violating the divine imperative of relationship.
But when we realize that God has entrusted to us the power and resources we have for the good of all, then we sense our deep responsibility to act on behalf of more than just ourselves. This does not mean that we are to deny ourselves and our families the things that we and they need. It does not mean that we are to deprive ourselves of what we need for the sake of being generous to others. But it does mean that we are to make decisions about how to use the resources we have with a broader perspective. We will either be masters of the things we have, or else we will become enslaved to them. In order to be master of what we have, we must seek first God’s kingdom, letting our hearts be broken by the things that break God’s heart. Only a broken heart learns to let go of selfish pride and to be the healing hands of God at work in this world. If we will not, then our things will rule us, dictating that we should cling to what we have, always seeing falsely through a fearful lens that there is not enough to go around. This is the self-fulfilling prophecy: For as much as we serve wealth, we cannot serve God. For as much as we horde out of fear, we ensure that there won’t be enough to go around. It is for us just as Jesus showed us in his life: If we will not risk that which is most dear, we will not achieve that which we most deeply need.
In a world where media stresses the individual and celebrates greed, it takes conviction of character and faith to counteract the temptation to neglect our responsibility to serve the common good over our selfish impulses. How are we to determine the difference between impulse and need? How are we to discern what can at times seem like a subtle line between God’s will and our own? Let me suggest a few questions we might ask ourselves to begin: Is the way I am about to spend my money/ my time/ my influence, at the expense of other people? Is what I am about to do harming or helping the earth, its creatures and other people? What does this act or purchase say about who or what I serve? Am I making this decision out of anxiety (wanting to impress others, assuage guilt or escape judgment), or is it out of compassion? We must consider these things when we are among those who have been entrusted with many good gifts. It takes practice, of course, and I don’t know a single person yet who has it entirely mastered.
One resource we all possess is prayer. Prayer is a powerful tool for the benefit of ourselves and others, and lucky for us, it’s a renewable resource. Rich or poor, we all have the ability to communicate with God and ask him for what we need. Some will ask for food, clothing and shelter, for justice, for education, or for safety because they desperately need those things to survive. Others will ask for comfort, for peace, for understanding. And some should pray instead for gifts of character such as humility, courage, compassion or generosity. Still others will pray for healing
Still others will pray for healing, for strength, for wisdom, for patience. All these things are good gifts which God has already provided in abundance to the world. The good news is that God’s answer to our prayers when we ask for the things we need is, “Yes.” The other news is that what we need may be in someone else’s hand or heart, and what others need may be in ours, to horde or to share. What happens next is up to us. Let’s hope it’s good news.
Amen