A Sermon from
First Presbyterian Church of Wheaton, IL

High Anxiety
A Sermon Preached by
Rev. Kyle Roggenbuck on June 26, 2011
                                                        ~Matthew 6:25-34

I come from a long line of world-class worriers, people who have raised worrying to a fine art. So this morning’s scripture passage is one that is especially appropriate for me and maybe for you as well.

It turns out Jesus had something to say about worrying. In the middle of his Sermon on the Mount, recorded in Matthew 6:25-34, he talks about our tendency toward “High Anxiety.” He says:

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.

One of the great theologians of our time, Erma Bombeck, once famously wrote:

I’ve always worried a lot and frankly, I’m good at it. I worry about introducing people and going blank when I get to my mother. I worry about a snake coming up through the kitchen drain. I worry about the world ending at midnight and getting stuck with three hours on a twenty-four hour cold capsule. I worry about getting into the Guiness World Book of Records under Pregnancy: Oldest Recorded Birth. I worry what the dog thinks when he sees me coming out of the shower; that one of my children will marry an Eskimo who will set me adrift on an iceberg when I can no longer feed myself. I worry about sales ladies following me into the fitting room, oil spills, and going bald. I worry about scientists discovering someday that lettuce has been fattening all along.

We all worry. We live in a culture of anxiety. Every day, day in and day out, you and I are exposed to 3,500 commercial messages: on television, radio, the newspaper, the internet—that tell us to worry.

We worry about the economy and our jobs. We worry about the housing market and foreclosure. We worry about budget cuts and health care. We worry about the wars we are fighting and financing. We worry about terrorism--and homeland security. We worry about the environment and global warming.

In our personal lives we worry about our kids and grandkids, we worry about our aging parents. We worry about our health. And yes, what we eat and what we will wear.

We fear cancer from our cell phones, we fear terror attacks and anthrax, we fear getting old and not having health care, we fear obesity and identity theft, we fear our best days are over, we fear we might contract some disease or condition that will require one of those drugs that are advertised on TV with all the scary side effects, we fear… well, fear itself.

I don’t think it’s possible to live fully in the world with your eyes and ears open and not worry—a lot.

So what did Jesus mean when he said, “Do not worry…?” Some scholars suggest that the word “anxious” is closer to what Jesus meant. Psychologists define anxiety as a distressing apprehension, a chronic worry. It’s frequently accompanied by unpleasant symptoms that range from restless irritability, concentration difficulty and muscle tension to sleep problems.

Anxiety is, quite literally, a painful response to feeling powerless against uncontrollable forces. It is a powerful, unfocused fear that underlies and expands and exaggerates the thousand and one things we worry about. It affects us psychologically, physically, politically, and economically.

So what are we to make of this hopelessly naïve, impractical, advice Jesus gives us: Do not worry? In fact, not only does this advice seem out of touch and anti-American, it’s against what we teach our children. We want them to worry—about doing their chores, getting good grades, going to college, getting a good job. It’s a little hard to swallow that Jesus wants us to stop worrying—he never had to balance a check book, or pay a mortgage, or wonder where his next check was coming from.

But let’s take a closer look at what Jesus was saying: “Look at the birds,” he said. “They neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly father feeds them.”

Well, yes, let’s look at the birds. Have you watched the birds outside your kitchen window? They are busy all day long. In fact, there is nothing more obsessively busy, nor harder working, than two robins constructing a nest, flying back and forth all day long with twigs and leaves and pieces of string; and when the eggs hatch, working all day long to feed their young. When I watch the birds in my yard I don’t see a lot of loafing around, but I do hear a lot of beautiful singing. They may not have the capacity to worry about tomorrow, but they work all day to be ready for it.

So I don’t think Jesus was suggesting that his followers don’t work hard and provide for themselves and those who depend on them.

“Consider the lilies,” he said, “how they grow. They neither toil nor spin. Yet I tell you, Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.” This is true enough, but not terribly helpful when your child is hungry and shivering in the cold because you can’t afford a coat.

Karl Marx—it’s interesting to note—hated these words of Jesus. They were exactly what he meant when he called religion the “opiate of the masses”. “Consider the lilies?”, said Marx, “they are just goat food.”

So let’s look at the last line of this passage which gives us a clue about what Jesus may have been getting at—“so do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”

You see, I think it’s all about the timing. We waste so much time and energy worrying about the past—which is past. And we spend so much time and energy worrying about the future—over which we have so little control. We forget to just live for today. Worrying doesn’t change the past and it doesn’t change the future. But it can prevent us from being fully in the present that God has given us today. Jesus said, “Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?” Worrying is just a distraction.

Local author, Thomas Montgomery Fate, humorously writes about distraction in his new book Cabin Fever: A Suburban Father’s Search for the Wild Within. He writes:

As technology gets smarter and faster, I get dumber and slower, and more distracted. This became clear to me last week when I again lost my car in the parking lot. After a 10 minute search in the rain on the acre of blacktop, I finally found it. I pretended that I knew where I was going, but it was embarrassing. And last month I found my billfold in the cheese drawer of the refrigerator after I finally decided to stop looking for it and finish making my lunch. And more than once I’ve been surprised at a stop sign when a ceramic mug of coffee comes flying off the roof of my car, bounces off the hood and shatters on the street. Perhaps these all signs of something ominous, or of something increasingly common: Living in-between the past and the future, but never quite in the present.

I think - and this is your take home message - Jesus is calling us to live in the present, to seek the kingdom now, today. To stop worrying about the past which is beyond our control, and the future that is ultimately beyond our control - and really live life now in the present in which God is in control. He’s suggesting we stop living our lives as if they were a dress rehearsal. To trust that God is in charge and that he is with us in the here and now.

I think Christians can be particularly susceptible of worry about the future of their eternal soul— of whether God will punch their ticket to heaven. It’s the topic taken up in Rob Bell’s new book, “Love Wins”, which Jay will be teaching the next month during education hour. Bell’s thesis, in part, is that worrying about heaven or hell at some future time misses the point of what it means to follow Jesus. That we need to strive first, strive now for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and leave the rest up to God.

One of my colleagues tells a wonderful poignant story about tucking in his young daughter at night when she was about 7 or 8. In that wonderful time, when children feel free to talk about what has been on their minds, she asked him, “Is it true when you die that you go to heaven and live forever, like in the clouds, and play harps all the time, or something?” Not wanting to undermine her fragile sensibility about death, he hedged and said,” Well, no one really knows what heaven is like and Bible doesn’t say much about it. But Christians tend to believe that when we die we somehow are with God in some new way which is called heaven—and that time doesn’t feel long or short—so you wouldn’t probably feel it being forever. To which she replied, “Well, I sure hope not, because that just seems really boring.”

Jesus said, “Do not worry about your life.” It’s an audacious statement, and so difficult to follow. It calls us to let go of so many of our comfortable assumptions of control. It calls us to “let go and let God.”

But it’s also a really quite a beautiful summation of the Christian message—“Do not worry.” “Fear not.” “Today is sufficient unto today.” In spite of war and famine, in spite of heartbreak and loss, in spite of all the slings and arrows this world is here to “give us THIS day our daily bread.” Do we dare claim it? Do we dare let go of our anxiety about the future and start paying real attention to today?

As I said, I come from a long line of worriers--Like Erma Bombeck, we are so good at worrying. But my favorite theologian, Erma, also wrote another wonderful treatus that sums up a little of what Jesus was talking about.

It’s called “If I had my life to live over again.” She wrote:

If I Had My Life to Live Over

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life.

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."

There would have been more "I love yous"...more "I'm sorrys"...but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it...live it...and never give it back.

Jesus said, “Do not worry about your life. Look at the birds; consider the lilies.” He wants his disciples, wants you and me, to stop squandering our energy and resources in anxious worry, he wants us to be present to God and to each other. He wants us to live with confidence that God will provide the resources we need to live: courage and hope and strength and security and love—above all else love. It’s an invitation to come out of the past, to stop focusing only on the future—and to rejoice in the blessings that are ours today.

Amen.

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