Matthew
6 is just great, because it is the most appropriate time to use one of my
favorite quotes, from Newt Scamander, in Fantastic
Beasts and Where to Find Them, the one that goes: “My philosophy is
worrying means that you suffer twice.”
I love this quote, as I love this
scripture, because at first they both sound tremendously optimistic. Don’t worry,
be happy; it will all work out. That feels so much like the messages our
society sends around faith, which can be summed up by the ol’ Jeremiah 29:11, “For
I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not
for harm, to give you a future with hope.” Our society eats that stuff up!
Don’t worry; God has plans; you’re set. Wonderfully optimistic!
Nothing about that is wrong, per se,
but all of it is misleading, because Matthew 6 and Jeremiah 29 and Newt
Scamander are not at all
optimistic. Scamander’s quote doesn’t say, “Don’t worry because you won’t
suffer;” rather, it assumes you will suffer,
so why double the suffering by adding worry on top? That’s not optimistic. Now,
we can excuse that, because that quote comes from a movie about wizards, so
maybe it has little to do with our faith. But Jeremiah 29:11, which is quoted
as much as any scripture, most certainly does come from the Bible, and it is most often quoted in an optimistic
way. Nonetheless, this verse about God’s plans is said by Jeremiah to a nation
in Israel in exile, currently suffering, and the plans do not involve
individual people finding their best life now, or anything like that. In fact,
many will suffer and many will die before Israel is ever restored from
captivity in Babylon. Jeremiah 29:11 is about God’s plans for everything, but
not you, specifically. It is not optimistic about individuals avoiding
suffering.
But surely Matthew 6 must be
optimistic! Don’t worry, says Jesus.
Consider those lilies of the field, how beautiful they are, and God takes care
of them. Surely, God will take care of us, too! Absolutely, definitely! This
scripture is about assurance in the face of adversity; it is about an ultimate
promise that God watches over and protects. However, because it is ultimate
protection, we have to be a bit careful. The first paragraph in Matthew 6 ends
by saying, “That’s what the Gentiles worry about!” That’s what those pagan
Romans worry about—food and drink—because they worship gods who provide for
them in the here and now. They are, in fact, obsessed with the comforts of
now—nice food, nice clothes, nice things; comfort. To be a Christian is
something different; it is not to pray to God asking for food and drink and
clothing, or even security and comfort; it is to say, “Jesus, I will follow you
wherever you go, even through death, so what sense does it make to worry?”
Matthew 6:33, at the very conclusion of this paragraph that begins “Do Not
Worry!” concludes by saying, “But strive first for the kingdom of God
and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”
There are two ways to read that. One
is to say: If I strive for the kingdom of God, God will reward me with nice
things in this world. That is a possible reading, even if it doesn’t seem to
match up with reality. After all, so many Christians through the ages have
suffered, have died, have watched their loved ones get snatched from them, sometimes
directly because of their faith. If anything, Christianity shows itself
strongest in despair. So, I’m inclined toward the other reading of Matthew
6:33, which is that we are to strive for the kingdom of God with the assurance
that when we suffer, when we struggle, and, eventually, when we die (which will
happen for all of us, after all), that is when we will receive our reward; that
is when all the pain of the world will be justified. The party is coming at the
end of the story; all we have now are reflections.
I believe this to be the best reading
of this scripture in no small part because of the following verse, which reads:
“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own.
Today’s trouble is enough for today.” Do not worry about tomorrow, because
tomorrow lies in the hands of God. Worrying means that you suffer twice,
indeed.
The evidence of God’s grace is the
cross and not the nice things we receive for believing. That’s a hard lesson,
because it is a counter-cultural thing to believe. Suffering is not evidence of
God’s absence, but a reality of this world, covered as it is by sin, and,
therefore, where people suffer, God is most
present. Jesus didn’t come to bring you a six-figure job, money for
college, a mid-size SUV, the lake cabin, good government, liberty and freedom
under the law, or even safety and security for people you love. Jesus came for
massive loans, and underwater mortgages, for addicts, for dropouts, for the
homeless, and the widows, and the dying, and the sick, for those who feel alone
and those who feel lost, for the ones with cancer and the ones with heart disease,
and the children who were never born, and the despairing, and the ones who have
made really, really poor choices. Jesus came for victims and for perpetrators.
Then, Jesus says “Do not worry!” What
do you mean, Jesus? I just listed off countless things to worry about. The news
is telling us all the things to worry about. Our minds are telling us all the
things we can worry about, because they’re real! All of it is real. It’s a
straight-up dangerous world out there with no assurances that because we wear
seat belts, and because we are responsible, and because we watch our children
like hawks, and because we eat right and exercise, and because we take our
meds, and because we live within our means, none of that is a promise we can keep
anyone we love safe, let alone ourselves.
Do not worry! Not because those
things aren’t real but because those things are not ultimate. That’s the
astounding promise we have in Jesus Christ: Nothing we worry about is
justified, because even death is put to death on the cross.
The worst thing that’s happened in
your life—the worst reality you’ve experienced—is not worthy of worry, not
because it didn’t happen, not because it didn’t hurt, and not because it wasn’t
powerful, but because it is not the end of the story.
To be a follower of Jesus is to walk
the thinnest tightrope between meaning, assurance, and hope; and worry, despair,
and death, because those are the places where Jesus meets us and raises us—from
death to new life.
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