Thanksgiving
Matthew 6:25-33
Matthew 6:25-33
In the name of God: our confidence and our connection. Amen.
Today, we hear from Jesus, some time-honored wisdom about
how to get all of your friends and family to… turn against you. Or, at the very least, to become annoyed with
you…
Perhaps you’ve heard about this kind of thing… Someone is confiding in a friend – a family
member – someone close to them. They’re
concerned about some trial or tribulation, like we all face in life. Maybe a loved one is scheduled for
surgery. Maybe they’re concerned about their
investments for retirement in this volatile market. Maybe they’re having trouble selling their
house, or their kids are struggling in school…
Any of the things we all worry about from time to time.
Then, with a countenance of love and compassion, the
confidant turns to the confider and offers that age-old wisdom – “Don’t worry.”
or “it’ll all work out.” or any of the other platitudes we turn to when we
don’t know what else to say.
The problem with that is, it doesn’t really help. It’s like when someone is suffering after the
end of a relationship and we say, “There’s plenty of fish in the sea…” Or when someone is suffering at the loss of a
loved one and we say, “They’re in a better place now…” It’s not that the platitudes aren’t true,
it’s that they don’t tend to help.
And when you’re actually worrying, the lessons we read today
for the celebration of Thanksgiving, can, at first glance, come across as
little more than platitudes. “Don’t
worry,” says Jesus. “Don’t fear,” says
Joel. If that’s all we’ve heard, then I
could see how it could sometimes sound hollow.
But, of course, the words of Joel and Jesus are not
platitudes – because that’s not all they say.
And even if those small, yet insurmountable commands were all we heard
today, they happen in the context of the greater narrative of our faith. A faith born from the creation of all that
is, and God’s declaration that it is good. A faith born from the struggles of the Hebrew
people: chosen, and yet condemned again and again; sometimes kings and rulers,
and yet sometimes enslaved; sometimes worshipping God in the glory of the
Temple, and yet sometimes exiled and yearning.
These words come in the context of a faith that was born
amongst a people who were deeply striving to know God more fully, and whom God
answered again and again, until answering at last in the person of Jesus –
God’s own self, with us in the world, despite all this world’s struggles and
pains and worries and fears.
That’s who says not to worry – one who knows how. One who has been down this road, and indeed,
a road more challenging than most of us could imagine. And why?
Why shouldn’t we worry?
Jesus didn’t just say not to worry because he didn’t know
what else to say. He said it because the
God who is deeply striving to know and to be connected with us as deeply as we are striving know and
connect with God has already shown how much God cares for the world. We are connected with this world – in the
most physical way, through our actual touch and immersion and experience. And Joel and Jesus rightly point out that God
cares for the world. God is connected,
just as we are.
Earlier this week, a friend of mine who is a priest in
Missouri posted on Facebook that she was smelling the wildfires in
California. Often, my husband will light
scented candles in our living room, and I can’t smell them from the couch – but
Maria was claiming to smell a fire burning from nearly 1900 miles away.
Well, before the whole of the internet could pounce on her
and rail against her for being utterly mad, she posted evidence from the
National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, showing satellite imagery that
proved she wasn’t, indeed, crazy. The
smoke from these fires had reached the upper atmosphere, and had been picked up
by the jet stream, and swept south and east, through California and then on
through Arizona and New Mexico. It had
spread across Texas, and Okahoma, and yes, even Missouri. In fact, there were, earlier this week,
reports of people smelling the California wildfires from as far away as
Michigan.
We are
connected. Our celebrations are shared,
just as surely as are our tragedies. Our
love is shared, just as much as our apathy.
Our faith is shared, just as much as our doubt.
We’ve come together this week in thanksgiving for that
connection. Our churches each do their
own work. We each try to make an impact
on the world in smaller and larger ways.
And while we may not always know what the others are up to, we do always
share that connection. We serve this
community. Though the world is filled
with so much abundance, somehow, it’s often left feeling lacking. It desperately needs people who will be committed
to serving others. We bring faith to
this community – in a world that desperately needs some hope to cling to. We bring relationships and deep connections
to this community – in a world that so
desperately needs to know that love is real.
So don’t worry. Not
because we can’t think of anything better to say, but because we are so
fortunate to be heirs of this connection – this tie that binds us
together. Don’t worry, because we are
not alone. We’re connected to one
another, and to all the faithful people throughout the world. And most of all, don’t worry, because we’re
connected to a God who longs to be connected to us, too. Don’t worry, because that same God – the same
one who rescued the Hebrew people from slavery, and who brought them in again
and again from exile, and who came to earth in the person of Jesus, and who even
brought Christ through death – that very same God who has already given us the
gift of the Holy Spirit to guide and to comfort us, has promised to continue
guiding us and comforting us through all the trials of life. Even when we don’t know what to say. Even when we say and do all the wrong
things. Even when we forget to depend on
each other.
Don’t worry, because we are not alone. Thanks be to God. Amen.
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