Sermons

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.

Divorce Is Hard

Mark 10:2-16

Some Pharisees came, and to test him they asked, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” He answered them, “What did Moses command you?” They said, “Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her.” But Jesus said to them, “Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment for you. But from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female.’ ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore, what God has joined together, let no one separate.”

Then in the house the disciples asked him again about this matter. He said to them, “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.”

People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” And he took them up in his arms, laid hands on them, and blessed them.


First off, like last week, there are several sermons to be preached from this batch of verses from Mark’s Gospel. Also like last week, we don’t have time for all of them on one Sunday morning. So my little prelude and disclaimer about what’s to come is that these verses seem to speak to a traditional version of marriage – the one between a man and a woman – that I don’t believe precludes or dismisses or needs to deny the notion that other versions of faithful marriage exist, as we know, in our day and age.

And notice I said “traditional” view of marriage, not “Biblical” view of marriage, because Jesus doesn’t say boo here about the plural marriage, or the concubines, or the surrogate slave birth mothers that are described without apology throughout Holy Scripture.

And, preaching from the assigned lectionary means I have to play with the cards I’m dealt sometimes. So my hope is we can see that, whatever your experience with marriage may be – if any – there’s a lesson and inspiration here for us all. Now, for some Ted Lasso.

There isn’t enough Ted Lasso in the world, in my opinion. If you haven’t seen the show, I couldn’t recommend it more highly. It’s a series about an American football coach who (accidentally I think?) signs up to be the coach of a European soccer team. Rebecca, the woman in this clip, is the owner of that soccer team who, if I remember correctly, acquired the team as part of her divorce settlement. In the short scene I’ll show you, she’s about to confess all the terrible things she has done to make the team fail – all and only as revenge against her ex-husband, from whom she has endured a very bitter divorce.

[Video Clip]

Again, if you haven’t seen it, do. Next time there’s a deal on Apple TV, subscribe just long enough to binge Ted Lasso and then cancel your subscription. You won’t regret it.

But, all of this is to say, I think Jesus is at least as sympathetic, gracious, and forgiving as Ted Lasso when it comes to whatever leads to divorce between married people, and toward whatever might come as a result of it. Divorce is hard, plain and simple – even when it goes well. And God knows it.

So this morning – as usual – we're allowed to see more in this Gospel than just a conversation about men and women; or marriage and divorce; and certainly more than fear, condemnation, or apocalyptic judgment about any of that. Like we find – more often than not – when we're willing to open our hearts and minds to all that Jesus is up to, he has more to say today about love and grace and mercy than we might notice at first glance … and more than too many people have offered up on his behalf and in his name over the years, where things like divorce are concerned.

Right away we know the Pharisees are up to something. Right away we're told they're interested in testing or tricking Jesus. Because they knew questions about the Law, like the legality of divorce, were tricky ones to answer. They knew Jesus' answer – whether he defended the practice of divorce or denounced it – would get him into trouble with one side or the other. They knew that if Jesus spoke about what was legally right or wrong; about what was legally acceptable or not; about what was legally good or bad – according to the black and white letter of the Law according to Moses – Jesus was between a rock and hard place.

He asks about Moses. He lets them know he sees where they're coming from. And he either sympathizes with them or chastises them when he explains how the Law of Moses addressed their hardness of heart. The Law of Moses spoke to their stubbornness. Like so much else, when it came to divorce, the Law of Moses addressed the hard reality that people – children of God, like you and me – just can't seem to get it right enough of the time. The Law of Moses addressed the sad truth that the brokenness of marriage would come because of the brokenness of those who would be married in the first place.

And, Jesus knew better then to be pulled into their little game of tug-of-war. Jesus knew better then to fall for their transparent little tricks. And, Jesus knew he could use their lame little "Q and A" to share grace instead of judgment; to offer hope instead of fear; and to teach about God's promises rather throw stones about God's condemnation.

Last week, I mentioned that we are allowed and encouraged to read the Bible LITERATELY, rather than LITERALLY, and I’m grateful for that. (It’s why we don’t lop off our hands or pluck out our eyes if they cause us to sin, remember.) Well, I’m going to add to that this morning something I’ve been convicted about and convinced of over the years. I think we’re also called to read the Bible, not just LITERATELY, but LOVINGLY, too … searching for and finding, without apology, the kind of grace we know, believe in, and hope for in Jesus.

And that’s what I find when Mark’s Gospel includes this moment with Jesus and the kids, just after what sound like harsh, hard-to-swallow words about marriage, divorce, and adultery.

See, when he’s confronted by the Pharisees, Jesus steers the conversation away from the issue of divorce and moves it toward the promise of marriage. Jesus moves the conversation away from who God may or may not punish when they get it wrong, to what God hopes and dreams for us in the first place. Jesus moves the conversation away from what breaks the Law of Moses to what breaks the heart of God.

And, what breaks the heart of God – like any loving parent – is whatever breaks the hearts of God's children.

Which is why that moment with the children is so instructive, and loving, and full of hope, when we consider it just after this difficult conversation about divorce and adultery and the Law and all the rest.

“Let the little children come to me,” he says. “Do not stop them; for it is to such as these – these naïve, squirrelly, sinful little rug rats – that the kingdom of God belongs.”

“And he took them up in his arms, laid hands on them, and blessed them.”

This is a sign of hope and show of love and invitation to grace for all of God’s children – that there is room for us all in the lap of God’s mercy, no matter what.

“It is to such as these – divorced, adulterous, selfish, vindictive, vengeful so-and-sos – that the kingdom of God belongs.”

“It is to such as these – abused, traumatized, afraid, ashamed, exhausted, alone, uncertain souls – that the kingdom of God belongs.”

“It is to such as these – regretful, remorseful, broken-hearted ones – that the kingdom of God belongs.”

And he took them up in his arms even though the disciples tried to chase them away. He laid hands on them, with love, even though his followers thought they weren’t worthy. And he blessed them, even though some believed he shouldn’t or wouldn’t or couldn’t.

Divorce is hard. God knows it. So did Jesus.

God intends for us to live together and to love together and to choose grace and joy and forgiveness for each another. God intends for lovers to find each other and to learn to share a love that lasts. God hopes for relationships that strengthen and uplift and inspire and fulfill – and God's heart breaks when we can't seem to make that happen at every turn, even as much as we wish we could.

So, just like Jesus does, the grace of God gathers broken, hurting children – like you and me – up into waiting, loving, merciful arms. Just like Jesus, the grace of God lays hands on heavy hearts. And just like Jesus, the grace of God blesses lives with forgiveness, hope, joy, and second chances.

I like to wonder about what immediate effect Jesus’ teaching and preaching – and the loving and blessing of all those kids – had on those who witnessed all of this that day. Maybe one of those Pharisees went home and put the pieces of his own broken marriage back together. Maybe a mother who was there went home and hugged her kids differently at the end of the day. Maybe a disciple or two apologized to those kids or to someone they’d shamed with their misunderstanding and misinterpretation of Scripture.

Maybe each of us will hear something of love – not judgment – in this gift we call the Gospel; and maybe tomorrow, your world and my world and God’s world will be different when we do.

Amen