Gospel of Matthew

Worry and Praise

Matthew 6:25-34

‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 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.

‘So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.


When you are really worried about something or have a lot of anxiety, doesn’t it just warm the cockles of your heart when someone says to you, “hey, don’t be worried, just stop being anxious, calm down, relax”. Ah yes, of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Oh wait, you did. You have tried that. And if it were that simple, if you could just stop, you would. If anything, someone telling you don’t worry, stop being anxious, makes you more worried and more anxious. Why then, does Jesus say don’t worry, don’t be anxious. Doesn’t he know this? Apparently not because he says, be like the bird and the lilly who have no worry or anxiety. The birds aren’t concerned about where their next meal comes from just as lilies don’t worry about what they look like. It’s so easy to read or hear this and think Jesus is saying, be like plants and animals - don’t worry. Which got me thinking, but don’t animals worry? Do they feel anxiety too?

Take for example my goldendoodle Mazie. All you need to do is come over on 4th of July to see her cower in fear from all the fireworks, shaking with anxiety until it’s all over. Perhaps the same is true for you and your four legged. Or maybe your furry friend suffers terrible separation anxiety everytime you walk out the door.

It’s not just dogs. There are other, more complex examples and anecdotes of animals that worry or have anxiety. Young elephants that have witnessed the hunting and killing of close family members develop something akin to Post traumatic stress order, causing them to be very aggressive and even have nightmares. Tell me that’s not anxiety…

Or a lab study from the University of Wisconsin - LaCrosse found out that fruit flies that have been socially isolated suffered from sleep deprivation. Do you ever have trouble sleeping when you are worried about others? Apparently so do fruit flies.

Or perhaps even crazier, researchers from Ohio State found that when small fish called sticklebacks experienced lots of exposure to predators, they passed that trauma off to their children in the form of anxiety and risk taking.

Marc Bekoff an evolutionary biologist from the university of colorado put it this way: “It's clear that animals can be worrywarts and stress out and be anxious about many different things. We are not alone in worrying about events in our lives although we may be unique in having the luxury of obsessing on what's causing us stress.”

So we all worry, animals and humans alike. What then do we do with Jesus' command “not to worry”? Well I think there is a difference in the kind of worry from the animal examples and the kind Jesus says not to do. I don’t hear Jesus saying don’t worry about basic needs, after all he tells us to pray for daily bread. What I do hear him saying is don’t obsess over them. Let enough be enough. Trust more that God will provide and less in our desire to get more than we need. In other words, don’t worry in such a way that turns you inward, that focuses on yourself, that makes you unaware, or worse unconcerned, about your neighbors needs, people and animals alike.

Instead, worry like the animals. What I mean is we ought to worry when we are disconnected from others, like the dogs and the fruit flies, or when we see others harmed, like the elephants, or when we fear for our children, like stickleback fish. In other words, worry because things aren’t right. Have an anxiety of love, of care and concern for the wellbeing of our family, our neighbors, the people of the world, the animals in our homes, and all creation. We know this worry, you likely felt it all week, like for the people in Florida as we watched and waited for hurricane milton to make landfall. Or the worry we have about the ever increasing conflict in the middle east, the lives already lost, and the carnage of creation that continues. We worry about our children and grandchildren and the kind of world they will inhabit. We worry about the devastation of creation and how we humans contribute to it.

That’s the kind of worry we should have and the kind I’d say Jesus has too. And the normal reaction to worry or anxiety is to do something or do more, or to help in some way. And we should. But I want to make the case this morning that in the midst of our worry or anxiety, our first response shouldn’t be action, but praise. Because when we give praise we acknowledge to God, to ourselves, and to all creation that we are not in charge of the world, let alone our own lives. When we praise God, we are acknowledging that God is God, and we are not, and we need God’s help.

And here again we can learn from creation and our animal companions. The psalmist tells us that all of creation praises the Lord: sun and moon, the seas and all that's in them, wild animals, trees, flying things, and even creeping creatures, they all praise the Lord. How, you ask? Simply by being the creatures they are. Nadia bolz weber puts it this way “creeping things of the Earth praise the creator by simply being creatures. Their being is praise of the source of their being.”

When the dog barks and the fruit fly buzzes, when the elephant sways their trunk and the fish swims, they are praising their Creator, even in the midst of their worry. The same is true for us. You are a part of creation and your being is an act of praise to the One who created you. And even in our worry and anxiety, no matter how great, we give praise when we do the things that we were created to do: love God, love our neighbors, and care for creation. So this morning I won’t say don’t worry, but rather when you worry, give praise. Amen.

Grieving Well - Places That Have Not Known Love

Matthew 18:10-14

‘Take care that you do not despise one of these little ones; for, I tell you, in heaven their angels continually see the face of my Father in heaven.* What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. So it is not the will of your* Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.


Have you ever made rock candy? I have not. But the process isn’t that hard. [Start video] To make rock candy you wrap a piece of string around something and let some of it hang down. Then you take a glass, combine water and sugar until it makes a thick solution, and then you drop that string down into the water. For a while nothing happens, a day, two days go by and you don’t notice a big change. But then all of a sudden, when the saturation point is reached, the sugar molecules begin to crystallize around the string. More and more crystals form, making the string harder and harder. Eventually, the string is completely calloused over with these crystals. That is how you make rock candy and it’s how shame works.

Over the past many weeks we have journeyed together through different forms of grief or different ways we experience grief. Some were obvious and common. Others were nuanced and unexplored.

Tonight we have one more kind of grief and it is perhaps the one many of us least want to address: grief for the places that have not known love. As Francis Weller explains, “These are profoundly tender places precisely because they have lived outside of kindness, compassion, warmth, or welcome. These are the places within us that have been wrapped in shame and banished to the farthest shores of our lives. We often hate these parts of ourselves, hold them in contempt, and refuse to allow them the light of day.”

We all have these parts of ourselves. It might be one’s body or a part of it that you loathe or won’t look at in the mirror, bringing about the self-image you’ve struggled with all your life. It might be the neglect you endured growing up or face now, leaving you feeling rejected and not just that you did something wrong, but feeling that something is wrong with you.

It might be abuse, physical, mental, or sexual, that you survived but have locked away hidden in the dark out of fear of judgment or reliving the trauma.

It might be one’s sexuality, the realization of who you were made to love, and at the same time rejecting that with all you can, afraid of rejection from family, friends, even your own faith.

And here is how shame is like making rock candy. We can endure some neglect or hurt. We can withstand some berating, self-criticism, and disappointment. But then there comes a point when we can’t. And with enough repetition, by staying in that solution too long, crystals grow around that thing and we become hardened. The internal stories associated with those events reach their saturation point and the fictions, the lies, the hurt crystallize into things that feel like truths we cannot break.

What is the thing in your life, in your very soul for which you are ashamed. We all have this and we all do our best to cast it out to the deepest, darkest parts of our souls where we hope it goes to die. But it doesn’t. Instead, we end up carrying around this shame, and it separates us from others and ourselves, bending us over, pulling us down so that we no longer gaze into the eyes of others, because the last thing we want when we feel such shame and self-doubt, is to be seen.

So like the sheep in the parable, we try to run off, to hide, to go astray. That is what shame does: it makes us think it’s better to be alone because at least then no one will know my shame.

Yet, that’s not how Jesus, our shepherd, works. The catch in the parable is that if one sheep goes astray, no shepherd in their right mind would leave the other 99! But this shepherd does. Here the words of the Psalmist as if Jesus, our shepherd, is saying them to you: “I have searched you and known you… I have discerned your thoughts… I am acquainted with all your ways… I know you completely. I surround you and protect you.

There is no place where I can’t find you or won’t go to save you. In your joyous moments and when shame has you in the pit of hell, I am there. You say you dwell in the darkness, but that’s where I do my best work. For only in darkness can my light shine through.”

Shame hardens our hearts; it makes us feel as though parts of us are outside of God’s reach, as if we are unloveable. But that is a lie. You are sought out, you are known, you are loved. In Jesus, God takes all our shame and the sin that caused it, and puts it to shame on the cross. We need not carry it anymore.

But what can we do? Is there anything, other than hearing this good news, that helps us address the shame that's hardened within us? And this is where grief comes in. “what we feel ashamed of, what we perceive as defective or flawed about ourselves, we also experience as loss. And the proper response to any loss is grief.”

So what can we do to move from shame to grief?

Here are three things: One, we begin to see ourselves not as worthless but as wounded. Because, if we are honest, that’s what we are. We have been wounded by ourselves, by others, and by a society that feeds off of shaming. And yet you have worth! You are made worthy through the grace and love of Jesus. It has been bestowed to you, given to you, and nothing can ever take that away from you.

Second, once we recognize our hurt, we can begin to see ourselves with compassion rather than contempt. With less condemnation and more understanding. The samaritan looked upon the stranger and had compassion. Out of compassion, Jesus fed the 5,000, gave sight to the blind, healed the sick, and forgave those who put him on the cross. The path to forgiveness for others and healing for yourself begins with a posture of compassion, never scorn or disdain.

Lastly, move from silence to sharing. This is nothing new. Over the last few weeks, we’ve heard the importance of sharing our grief. And The same is true for our shame. When we share it, all that pulls us down or keeps us away is lifted and we can begin to grieve the loss we’ve experienced. So share it with a trusted friend, with a trusted therapist or counselor, or with a trusted pastor. Most of all, share it with God and hide it no longer.

Let the love of Jesus break through the hardened lies that shame has formed inside our souls, giving light to our darkest parts.

Tonight we will practice exactly that. On your chair you have a candle. As Jeannie plays this next hymn, share your shame with God in prayer. Tell God of the parts of you that have not known love, the parts you’ve tried to hide. Invite God into those very places, to heal our wounds, move us to compassion, and soften our hardened hearts. Then, when ready, light your candle and place it on the way. And together we will see that the light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it.

Amen.