Anxious Thanks
Sermon
Sermons On The Gospel Readings
Series I, Cycle B
On Thanksgiving, isn't it odd to hear a Gospel that talks about anxiety and worry and not about, well, thanks? At this time of year, we offer thanks for food, shelter, health, favorable weather, peace, and a whole raft of other blessings. Isn't it a bit jarring to hear Jesus tell us, "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"? Why is this text rubbing worry into our faces?
Worry -- and trouble. "Today's trouble is enough for today" (v. 34). Isn't it just swell to hear that today? Isn't that just the Bible verse we want served up with the turkey, cranberries, and stuffing? Wouldn't most of us just rather pass on it and save up for a dessert course of "Now Thank We All Our God"?
All this is unsettling. For one thing, our nation has recently endured a calamity unlike any other in its history, with who knows what salvos to follow. Second, people have braced themselves for a long, drawn-out, and very peculiar war against a shadowy and frightening enemy. And third, we know how many people have worried about job layoffs and loss of income and financial security on top of fears about personal and national security and safety. Jesus' words about not worrying, and about letting today's troubles be enough for the day, almost come across as flip and shallow, don't they?
On top of all that, there are people for whom worry and trouble are constant companions, even in times of peace and prosperity, and even on Thanksgiving. You can list them as well as I: the homeless; terminally ill patients; people recently bereaved, divorced, or laid off. Abused children, battered spouses. Parents whose son is on drugs or whose daughter just had an abortion. Adult children with parents lost in a haze of dementia. People with severe mental illness, and their families. The list goes on and on.
And our hearts go out to these people. Maybe we've been on that list ourselves at some point. We know the crushing anxiety and the sense of being overburdened by trouble. We know how painful and pointless the holidays can be -- especially a holiday devoted to thankfulness for blessings and to celebrating family ties. And this year, more than most, we resonate with their worries, fears, griefs, and cares.
And so our Lord's words jar us. At best, they spoil the mood of Thanksgiving gratitude. Even to say, "Don't worry about these things," is to make us a little anxious. It's a bit like saying, "Don't think about elephants." You know what happens!
Worse, Jesus' words reveal an uncomfortable truth about gratitude. We know how close beneath its surface anxiety does lurk. We're thankful for the food we have today (but will there be any tomorrow?). We thank God for our good health (but how do we prepare for bioterrorist attacks?). We give thanks for peace and freedom (but just how vulnerable are we because of that very freedom?). Unless we're awfully complacent or completely clueless, we're aware of life's fragility. We know how quickly things could be different. So even when we sing, "Now Thank We All Our God," a part of us wonders, "Will we have anything to thank God for tomorrow or the next day?" That part wonders if God can be trusted to love us and care for us -- tomorrow.
There have been many articles written about the spiritual crisis many Americans are facing in the aftermath of the so-called "9-1-1" terrorist attacks. Many people wonder what America has done wrong, that we should be so hated in some parts of the world. Still others ask, "Why is God letting this happen to us?" and they come up with explanations both simplistic and repellent. And under all these questions are others that were hard to voice: Does God still love us? Does he care? Can we trust that he is blessing us even now and will continue to?"
So long as a family, an individual, or a nation hinges gratitude upon "stuff" -- even good, necessary-for-life "stuff," even "stuff" that we may rightly call blessings given by almighty God, there's always that underlying fear that maybe tomorrow it won't be there. "Stuff" is notoriously fickle and unstable!
Jesus wants his followers to ground their gratitude -- indeed, their lives -- in something a lot more solid than "stuff." "Strive first for the Kingdom of God and his righteousness," he urges, "and all these things will be given to you as well" (v. 33). And he's already begun fleshing out what "the kingdom of God and his righteousness" are all about. They exist wherever and whenever God's name is kept holy by his people. They're present when God's will is accomplished to create, sustain, redeem, forgive, heal, reconcile, empower, and love us and all creation. God's kingdom and righteousness are shown when fearful, fallible people share the same forgiveness with one another that they have already received from the One who knows perfectly well what they need for daily existence. They're active when God lifts up those who hunger and thirst, who mourn, who are persecuted and who humbly endure whatever "stuff" a broken world dishes their way. God's kingdom and righteousness are present whenever we place our hope and trust in God above any and all the good "stuff" -- the good blessings -- with which he has graced us.
God cares even for birds and wild flowers and graces them with loveliness. God doesn't freeze the flower in timeless perfection; the day comes when flowers fade, die, scatter their seeds for another year, and are finally gathered for fuel. Is God's care any less real because the flower isn't eternally fresh?
God graces our lives with the loveliness of his blessings: everything from savory food to joyous family reunions to a land of peace and liberty. And, no, those blessings aren't frozen in place. Like flowers, they have their season. They may wither for a time. So do troubles; they come, they pass, and new ones take their places, as surely as weeds in the flower garden.
And God is still good. God still loves us. His love is as constant as the wildflowers are ephemeral. His will for us never changes. His kingdom still draws near to us, in every whispered prayer, in every bite of bread and sip of wine, in every moment that we draw upon his forgiveness, lavished upon us from a cross. Neither "stuff" nor its lack can keep God from loving us in Christ Jesus. Not death itself can do that. Neither fear, nor anxiety, nor the worst troubles that beset us can actually stop God from caring for us; but they certainly can make us blind and deaf to that care!
"Do not be anxious...." Even churches may flourish like wildflowers -- and sometimes fade. Membership and contribution numbers ebb and flow like the tide. Yet God's Kingdom is still faithfully preached. God's righteousness is sought and received in Word and Sacrament, fellowship and forgiveness. Thanks be to God for his unutterable goodness and favor!
"Today's trouble is enough for today...." Families, communities, and nations grow -- and sometimes struggle and splinter. Boom follows bust, or vice versa. Strife and even bloodshed disrupt peaceful communities. And yet God still offers us healing and reconciliation in his Son. He still promises to save us in our times of trial and deliver us from the powers of evil and death. Thanks be to God for offering us treasures that moth and rust do not consume, and which thief nor circumstance of life can steal from us (Matthew 6:20). Pray to God that we have the wits -- and trustfulness! -- to receive them.
Often on Thanksgiving we sing, "Now Thank We All Our God," and reflect on words overflowing with gratitude for God's bounty:
Who, from our mothers' arms, has blessed us on our way with countless gifts of love, and still is ours today. O may this bounteous God through all our lives be near us, with ever thankful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us!
The writer of this beloved hymn was a pastor named Martin Rinkhart. During the awful strife of the Thirty Years' War, Pastor Rinkhart buried many members of his parish -- including his own wife. Bloodshed, disease, and even famine took a terrible toll of his village. The people were understandably frightened and despondent. Even when the fighting waned, troubles loomed large and anxiety wore people down. They wondered if God still cared. Does this sound familiar?
In the midst of all this, Martin Rinkhart wrote a hymn to remind people of God's continuous, endless, eternal goodness and care. We know the words:
Now thank we all our God with heart and hands and voices; who wondrous things has done, in whom his world rejoices ... O may this bounteous God through all our lives be near us with ever thankful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us; and keep us in his grace and guide us when perplexed, and free us from all harm in this world and the next.
Pastor Rinkhart knew, deep in his bones, the truth of Jesus' words about worry and trouble. More importantly, he knew that in every circumstance, God's blessing, grace, guidance, and protection embraced his embattled people. And so he received all these with thanks -- and was given a heart to thank God for all God's other blessings, so dear, so precious, so fleeting -- whether he enjoyed them now in fact or only in patient hope!
"Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." They're given not as a quid pro quo or a bribe, but as part of God's mysterious but gracious ordering of his Kingdom. Don't worry. God is good. Happy Thanksgiving.
Worry -- and trouble. "Today's trouble is enough for today" (v. 34). Isn't it just swell to hear that today? Isn't that just the Bible verse we want served up with the turkey, cranberries, and stuffing? Wouldn't most of us just rather pass on it and save up for a dessert course of "Now Thank We All Our God"?
All this is unsettling. For one thing, our nation has recently endured a calamity unlike any other in its history, with who knows what salvos to follow. Second, people have braced themselves for a long, drawn-out, and very peculiar war against a shadowy and frightening enemy. And third, we know how many people have worried about job layoffs and loss of income and financial security on top of fears about personal and national security and safety. Jesus' words about not worrying, and about letting today's troubles be enough for the day, almost come across as flip and shallow, don't they?
On top of all that, there are people for whom worry and trouble are constant companions, even in times of peace and prosperity, and even on Thanksgiving. You can list them as well as I: the homeless; terminally ill patients; people recently bereaved, divorced, or laid off. Abused children, battered spouses. Parents whose son is on drugs or whose daughter just had an abortion. Adult children with parents lost in a haze of dementia. People with severe mental illness, and their families. The list goes on and on.
And our hearts go out to these people. Maybe we've been on that list ourselves at some point. We know the crushing anxiety and the sense of being overburdened by trouble. We know how painful and pointless the holidays can be -- especially a holiday devoted to thankfulness for blessings and to celebrating family ties. And this year, more than most, we resonate with their worries, fears, griefs, and cares.
And so our Lord's words jar us. At best, they spoil the mood of Thanksgiving gratitude. Even to say, "Don't worry about these things," is to make us a little anxious. It's a bit like saying, "Don't think about elephants." You know what happens!
Worse, Jesus' words reveal an uncomfortable truth about gratitude. We know how close beneath its surface anxiety does lurk. We're thankful for the food we have today (but will there be any tomorrow?). We thank God for our good health (but how do we prepare for bioterrorist attacks?). We give thanks for peace and freedom (but just how vulnerable are we because of that very freedom?). Unless we're awfully complacent or completely clueless, we're aware of life's fragility. We know how quickly things could be different. So even when we sing, "Now Thank We All Our God," a part of us wonders, "Will we have anything to thank God for tomorrow or the next day?" That part wonders if God can be trusted to love us and care for us -- tomorrow.
There have been many articles written about the spiritual crisis many Americans are facing in the aftermath of the so-called "9-1-1" terrorist attacks. Many people wonder what America has done wrong, that we should be so hated in some parts of the world. Still others ask, "Why is God letting this happen to us?" and they come up with explanations both simplistic and repellent. And under all these questions are others that were hard to voice: Does God still love us? Does he care? Can we trust that he is blessing us even now and will continue to?"
So long as a family, an individual, or a nation hinges gratitude upon "stuff" -- even good, necessary-for-life "stuff," even "stuff" that we may rightly call blessings given by almighty God, there's always that underlying fear that maybe tomorrow it won't be there. "Stuff" is notoriously fickle and unstable!
Jesus wants his followers to ground their gratitude -- indeed, their lives -- in something a lot more solid than "stuff." "Strive first for the Kingdom of God and his righteousness," he urges, "and all these things will be given to you as well" (v. 33). And he's already begun fleshing out what "the kingdom of God and his righteousness" are all about. They exist wherever and whenever God's name is kept holy by his people. They're present when God's will is accomplished to create, sustain, redeem, forgive, heal, reconcile, empower, and love us and all creation. God's kingdom and righteousness are shown when fearful, fallible people share the same forgiveness with one another that they have already received from the One who knows perfectly well what they need for daily existence. They're active when God lifts up those who hunger and thirst, who mourn, who are persecuted and who humbly endure whatever "stuff" a broken world dishes their way. God's kingdom and righteousness are present whenever we place our hope and trust in God above any and all the good "stuff" -- the good blessings -- with which he has graced us.
God cares even for birds and wild flowers and graces them with loveliness. God doesn't freeze the flower in timeless perfection; the day comes when flowers fade, die, scatter their seeds for another year, and are finally gathered for fuel. Is God's care any less real because the flower isn't eternally fresh?
God graces our lives with the loveliness of his blessings: everything from savory food to joyous family reunions to a land of peace and liberty. And, no, those blessings aren't frozen in place. Like flowers, they have their season. They may wither for a time. So do troubles; they come, they pass, and new ones take their places, as surely as weeds in the flower garden.
And God is still good. God still loves us. His love is as constant as the wildflowers are ephemeral. His will for us never changes. His kingdom still draws near to us, in every whispered prayer, in every bite of bread and sip of wine, in every moment that we draw upon his forgiveness, lavished upon us from a cross. Neither "stuff" nor its lack can keep God from loving us in Christ Jesus. Not death itself can do that. Neither fear, nor anxiety, nor the worst troubles that beset us can actually stop God from caring for us; but they certainly can make us blind and deaf to that care!
"Do not be anxious...." Even churches may flourish like wildflowers -- and sometimes fade. Membership and contribution numbers ebb and flow like the tide. Yet God's Kingdom is still faithfully preached. God's righteousness is sought and received in Word and Sacrament, fellowship and forgiveness. Thanks be to God for his unutterable goodness and favor!
"Today's trouble is enough for today...." Families, communities, and nations grow -- and sometimes struggle and splinter. Boom follows bust, or vice versa. Strife and even bloodshed disrupt peaceful communities. And yet God still offers us healing and reconciliation in his Son. He still promises to save us in our times of trial and deliver us from the powers of evil and death. Thanks be to God for offering us treasures that moth and rust do not consume, and which thief nor circumstance of life can steal from us (Matthew 6:20). Pray to God that we have the wits -- and trustfulness! -- to receive them.
Often on Thanksgiving we sing, "Now Thank We All Our God," and reflect on words overflowing with gratitude for God's bounty:
Who, from our mothers' arms, has blessed us on our way with countless gifts of love, and still is ours today. O may this bounteous God through all our lives be near us, with ever thankful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us!
The writer of this beloved hymn was a pastor named Martin Rinkhart. During the awful strife of the Thirty Years' War, Pastor Rinkhart buried many members of his parish -- including his own wife. Bloodshed, disease, and even famine took a terrible toll of his village. The people were understandably frightened and despondent. Even when the fighting waned, troubles loomed large and anxiety wore people down. They wondered if God still cared. Does this sound familiar?
In the midst of all this, Martin Rinkhart wrote a hymn to remind people of God's continuous, endless, eternal goodness and care. We know the words:
Now thank we all our God with heart and hands and voices; who wondrous things has done, in whom his world rejoices ... O may this bounteous God through all our lives be near us with ever thankful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us; and keep us in his grace and guide us when perplexed, and free us from all harm in this world and the next.
Pastor Rinkhart knew, deep in his bones, the truth of Jesus' words about worry and trouble. More importantly, he knew that in every circumstance, God's blessing, grace, guidance, and protection embraced his embattled people. And so he received all these with thanks -- and was given a heart to thank God for all God's other blessings, so dear, so precious, so fleeting -- whether he enjoyed them now in fact or only in patient hope!
"Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." They're given not as a quid pro quo or a bribe, but as part of God's mysterious but gracious ordering of his Kingdom. Don't worry. God is good. Happy Thanksgiving.
