Do Not be Anxious, Luke 12:22-34

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
State College, PA

Early last week I woke up at 3am and started thinking about this sermon, how to frame the main questions, how to introduce everything, how to develop the main points. After awhile I realized that this was keeping me awake, so I turned from this subject but then found myself thinking about work. This was my final week at Strawberry Fields and there were many things I needed to get done before leaving. I thought for awhile about my paperwork, then about the clients I needed to call in the next few days; then I realized that this was keeping me awake, so I put it all aside, but a few minutes later I found myself dwelling on the guitar fingerboard, chord shapes, and things I want to learn about jazz harmony, classical pieces I'm working on. It was a lousy night's sleep (and I'm usually a pretty-good sleeper). I had to get up at 6 and managed to doze off a little before then, but it was not the kind of sleep I was hoping for.

Years ago I was teaching a class on prayer and the subject of meditation came up. One member of the class, a psychiatrist, said that mediation is like worry. When we meditate on something we think about it over and over again and visualize it in practice. We don't just think about it in the abstract as a topic for study, we enter into it imaginatively. And when we worry about something we do the very same thing: we enter imaginatively into what might happen in the future. That's what I was doing, entering imaginatively into the work I was planning to do over the next few days. But it wasn't helpful, because it kept me from doing what I really needed to do at that time; it kept me from sleeping. It kept me from living in the present moment.

In this passage, Jesus instructs His disciples not to worry, not to enter imaginatively into what might happen in the future but to live in the present moment, to be responsive to what God is doing at the present time because life is more than the things we worry about. It's good to ask ourselves, what are the things that are most important to us, the things we find ourselves thinking about when we are free to think about whatever we want? What is at the center of our lives?

It's important to understand what Jesus is talking about here when he says “do not be anxious.” I recently worked with a man who suffers with severe mental illness; he has schizophrenia and also experiences panic attacks. Sometimes, after driving, he thinks that maybe he clipped someone even though there is no reason to think he did. He is a Christian and is committed to following Christ. He spends much of his free time reading books that will help him grow in discipleship. But his perceptions of reality are often distorted by his mental illness, and simply telling him “don't be anxious” is not likely to be much help. And the severe anxiety he experiences, which often has a clearly physical dimension, is not the problem Jesus is addressing in this passage. No doubt he also struggles with worry of the kind we see here and would be helped in this area by paying attention to Jesus' instruction. But his panic disorder is something different from what Jesus is talking about in this passage.

Why do we worry? Why do we become anxious? Because we were created in the image of God with a desire for permanence and stability and we live in an unpredictable and constantly-changing world. Things go wrong. People we love die. We lose our jobs. Our lives in this fallen world are not stable or permanent. Things go horribly wrong and nothing we do can prevent this from happening. Eugene Peterson, the translator of The Message, was the pastor of a church just outside Baltimore and told of coming to the realization that many of the people in his congregation, people who were generally doing well financially, were living “huddled, defensive lives.” Their lives were focused on preserving what they had, defending and protecting their possessions and lifestyle. And Jesus' instructions in this passage are directed toward this kind of huddled, defensive living, an outlook on life that is primarily concerned with our possessions or the things we need to get done to get ahead in the world.

God often calls His people to a life of insecurity. Paul was a very successful Pharisee until Jesus confronted him on the road to Damascus and called him to an uncertain future (in terms of life in this world). This is what Jesus said about him shortly after his Damascus Road experience: “I have picked him as my personal representative.... And now I'm about to show him what he's in for – the hard suffering that goes with this job” (Acts 9, The Message).. St. Francis of Assisi had it made when he was young. His father was a very prosperous merchant who was willing to hand the business over to his son; but God called Francis to leave all of this behind. Following Jesus often involves stepping out into uncertainty, depending on the faithfulness of God, the very opposite of huddled, defensive living.

The reason Jesus tells us not to worry is that life is more than the things we tend to worry about. Huddled, defensive living doesn't lead to the sort of abundant living Jesus was talking about when He said “I came so that they can have real and eternal life, more and better than they ever dreamed of” (John 10:10, The Message). We can be so focused on getting more or getting ahead or protecting what we already have that we don't enjoy the life God has given us. Eugene Peterson tells a great story about John Muir, the 19th century explorer of the American West: He describes Muir as someone who“tramped up and down through our God-created wonders, from the California Sierras to the Alaskan glaciers, observing, reporting, praising, and experiencing–entering into whatever he found with childlike delight and mature reverence.” In 1874, he was staying at a friend’s cabin in the Sierra Mountains. A storm set in one December day, a fierce storm–trees were bending over backwards. Instead of retreating to the safety and security of the cabin, Muir left the cabin and entered the storm. He found a mountain ridge, climbed to the top of a giant Douglas Fir and held on for dear life “experiencing the kaleidoscope of color and sound, scent and motion.” Muir rode out the storm “relishing weather: taking it all in–its rich sensuality, its primal energy.” Peterson says this about the story. “The story of John Muir, storm-whipped at the top of the Douglas Fir in the Yuba River valley” is an “icon of Christian spirituality.” “A standing rebuke against becoming a mere spectator to life, preferring creature comfort to Creator confrontation.” (http://www.markbatterson.com/uncategorized/the-eye-of-the-storm/#sthash.3RcMijQG.dpuf). Muir is a great example of entering into life at the fullest, the exact opposite of a huddled, defensive life.

How do we learn to live life to the fullest, resist the temptation to huddled, defensive living? Jesus uses the word “consider” two times in this passage. “Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds!” “Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” He's saying “look around, observe God's care over His creation and know He will also care for you,” first, because you are of more value to Him than the ravens He provides for, and second, because He is your Father and as a perfect Father knows what your needs are. Reflect on what you know about God, consider your life in the light of God's constant care for His created order, knowing that He has adopted you into His family.

But this reflecting is more than an inward thing. We need to act out our reflections in daily life, knowing that “it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Our response to the things we know is rooted in God's goodness and willingness to give us what we could never earn. As we live in this world of buying and selling – of earning our own way – we need to often remind ourselves that this is not the way God deals with us.

This can be difficult to accept, especially for people who have worked hard and want credit for what they've accomplished. That's the point of the parable about the workers in the vineyard. The landowner hires workers in the morning and sends them out after having agreed on payment for the day's work. Others are hired at intervals, then near the end of the day he sends out some workers who hadn't been hired by anyone; and starting with these end-of-the day workers, he starts paying each their wages. When the latecomers receive the amount those hired in the morning had agreed to, those who have worked all day naturally expect to get more and are disgruntled with the landowner: “These last workers put in only one easy hour, and you just made them equal to us, who slaved all day under a scorching sun” (Matthew 20, The Message). And the owner responds, “Are you going to get stingy because I am generous?” God doesn't deal with us in terms of buying and selling, earning our own way, getting what we feel entitled to. Here are verses 29-30 from our passage in The Message: “What I'm trying to do here is get you to relax, not be so preoccupied with getting so you can respond to God's giving. Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Don't be afraid of missing out. You're my dearest friends! The Father wants to give you the very kingdom itself.” Reflect on God's generosity.

This leads to the next step, which is to imitate God's generosity. Paul says in Ephesians 5, “be imitators of God.” He has freely given to us, so our calling is to give freely to others. Be generous toward those in need. But consider this: God's giving is not motivated by a desire to get something for Himself but simply reflects His own generosity. I knew a man, a few years ago, who expressed a desire to help some people in need. He knew these people and had the means to help; so he wrote to the pastor of the church and said what he was planning to do. He then asked about getting a tax credit for his contribution. But when he learned that this was not allowed if the money was designated for an individual family, he withdrew his offer. His generosity, in this case, was contingent on him getting a tax break. If we want to be imitators of God's generosity, we need to be willing to give without getting anything in return.

God gives without expecting anything in return, and He also honors us as people made in His image – despite our spiritual poverty – and He calls us to join Him in showing generosity. I've known many people whose primary concern in helping others is to make sure these people use the money carefully, that they are good stewards. One church I knew had a policy of never giving money to an individual or family; the family had to submit bills to the church for payment, even if the money had been given by an individual in the church specifically for that family's need. We need to know that being on the receiving end of this kind of giving can be a humiliating experience. It's better, I suggest, to show generosity and have our gifts misused – or used in ways we don't fully agree with – than to give in a way that devalues people. God cares more about these people in need than He does about the proper use of our money – and I'm not talking here about giving money to help people buy drugs. All-too-often it has seemed to me that churches are more concerned about protecting the money they're giving than they are about recognizing the value and dignity of the people they're trying to help. God calls us to give without expecting something in return and to give in a way that preserves the other person's dignity and self-esteem, even if we have to take risks in doing so. In doing this, we are storing up treasure in heaven: “Get yourselves a bank that can't go bankrupt, a bank in heaven far from bankrobbers, safe from embezzlers, a bank you can bank on” (The Message).

He concludes this passage with “where your treasure is, there will your heart be also,” or, as it reads in The Message, “The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being.” The things that matter most to us are the things we end up thinking about most of the time. I recently read Grace Like a River, the autobiography of Christopher Parkening, one of the great classical guitarists of the 20th Century. I heard him speak in the mid-80's, and he told us his goal was to work hard and retire by the time he was 30. He was a gifted musician, endorsed by Andres Segovia as one of the greatest guitarists in the world, but his real passion was fly fishing; he saw his work as a concert performer as the way to achieve the freedom to fish full time.

And he was able to do that. He performed all over the world, recorded albums and published both method books and arrangements for other guitarists. By the time he was 30 he had enough money to retire. He stopped performing, dropped out of the music world, and bought a ranch in Montana. He spent all his time doing the things he wanted to do, but after awhile he found himself lost and disappointed. He was bored, lacking any sense of purpose or direction in his life. He had the life he had dreamed about, but it was not what he was hoping for.

What was his treasure? He was an amazing musician, with a career that most musicians dreamed of, but his real treasure was fly fishing, or having the freedom to do what he wanted all the time without having to work. But in the midst of his disappointment, realizing that his dreams were not what he was hoping for, he found himself confronted by Jesus Christ, and now he says that his entire focus was wrong. He eventually started performing again but put a sign on his music stand that said “Chris, what are you here for?” He recognizes now that his treasure is in heaven and that his calling in the present is to exercise the gifts God has given him in a way that brings glory and honor to his Creator. But he also recognizes the need to remind himself of this on a regular basis.

Our hearts will be where our treasure is. How do we know where our treasure is? By asking ourselves, “where does my mind go when it is free to go wherever it wants?” What kinds of things do we meditate on, enter into imaginatively, when we don't have to pay attention to anything else? Asking this question gives us an idea of where our treasure is at present. And if we discover that our treasure is something less than God, focused on what we can have in this life, we have the opportunity to repent and turn our lives to Jesus Christ, as Christopher Parkening did, knowing that God is faithful and will care for all our needs as we seek first His kingdom and righteousness. But this isn't a “once-and-done” thing. We need reminders, like Parkening's music stand. We, over and over, focus our minds on the things of God, meditating on His Word, turning to Him with brief prayers throughout the day, and in doing these kinds of things we train our minds to increasingly dwell on Him. May He enable us to be more and more aware of the treasure we have in heaven.