You Go. I’ll take care of this., part II

To find that message that goes beyond “don’t worry, be happy,” we need to look at the passage in its larger context, as coming within Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Jesus did not deliver this Sermon on the Mount to the masses. Sometimes Jesus spoke to every Tom, Dick, and Sally. But in Matthew’s rendering of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is talking to his disciples. He has just recently called them to himself. Some crowds got to following him, but in this instance Jesus heads up the mountain and addresses his disciples directly. He is not talking to the crowds now, he is talking to his disciples, those who have already given everything up to follow him. He is telling them how to be his disciples, his students. Jesus is forming them as a unit, he is giving them an identity, describing a way of being that will set them apart from—even in opposition to—everyone else in their community. He is giving them a how-to lesson on being his disciples. Maybe that’s why the Sermon on the Mount doesn’t make sense outside of the church. Jesus isn’t talking to the multitudes here, he’s talking to those he’s called to himself, the ones he will later (in chapter 10) send out to proclaim the good news, “The kingdom of heaven has come near.” And he’s talking to us. His 21st Century disciples. We are the ones he is calling to himself. We are the ones he’s sending out into the world today.

The Good News of the Gospel is not just for you and for me and for our psychological well-being. The Good News of the Gospel is the news of an entirely new Kingdom. An entirely new way of being. It is the ushering in of a whole new creation. Not just for you and me, but for the world. And our part in it, as the Church, is not simply to feel better about facing tomorrow. It’s not even about just helping others feel better about tomorrow. It is about participating with the God of the universe as he creates anew his glorious Kingdom. The start of the rebuilding project was his sending his Son, Jesus Christ. Our savior lived, died, defeated death, and rose again to usher in the New Age, the coming of God’s eternal kingdom, and he has called us, those who call him Lord, along for the ride. The continuation of God’s project, his mission, is his Son’s sending of us, to further that kingdom, to serve that kingdom with all that we have and all that we are. To embody that kingdom, to carry the blueprint around with us, to serve as hammers and nails, lumber and masonry, as he builds his Kingdom with us. All while we await the consummation of the building project with the return of God’s Son.

The Bible as a whole is our how-to manual. How to carry the blue-print, how to serve the project, how to be sent. How to be the tools God uses to build his kingdom. The Bible is the manual that forms us all as God’s mission team.

You Go. I’ll take care of this., part I

Isaiah 49:

14 But Zion said, “the LORD has forsaken me,
And the Lord has forgotten me.”
15 “Can a woman forget her nursing Child
And have no compassion on the son of her womb
Even these may forget, but I will not forget you.
16 Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands;
Your walls are continually before me.”

Psalm 131:

1 O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty;
Nor do I involve myself in great matters,
Or in things too difficult for me.
2 Surely I have composed and quieted my soul;
Like a weaned child rests against his mother,
My soul is like a weaned child within me.
3 O Israel, hope in the LORD
From this time forth and forever

Matthew 6:

25 “For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 “Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? 27 “And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life? 28 “And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, 29 yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. 30 “But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith! 31 “Do not worry then, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear for clothing?’ 32 “For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 “But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. 34 “So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

These were the three lectionary passages for a Sunday last May when I was serving as pulpit supply at a nearby church. Immediately after reading the three texts, my mind began to spin, placing all three passages together quite easily. First, there was the passage from Isaiah: “Zion (Israel) said, ‘The Lord has forsaken me, my Lord has forgotten me’.” In response the Lord compares himself to a nursing mother, telling Zion that a nursing mother is more likely to forget her child than the Lord is to forget his own. Now, Isaiah’s audience would not have been so far removed from the nursing image as we in our modern, Western culture might be, so let me help flesh out this reality for you.

Anyone who has nursed or has known well someone who has, knows how next to impossible it is for a nursing mother to forget her child. A nursing mother’s ability or inability to forget her nursling is not simply a function of how much she loves her child, or how good a mother she is. No, there’s a lot more to it than that. A nursing mother can’t forget her nursing child because her body won’t let her. Her body remembers for her. If she is absent from her child for a time longer than they would normally go between nursings, a mother’s body tells her quite plainly, quite full-ly, and sometimes even quite pain-full-ly that her child is missing. A mother who has to spend extra, unexpected time away from her young nursling is just as desperate to reunite with her baby as he is with her.

This is the kind of love and connection God is speaking of here. God will not forget his own, he cannot forget his own. In fact it’s even easier for a nursing mother to forget her nursling, and that is a physical impossibility. Isaiah 49 assures Zion, and by extension us, in no uncertain terms, that we will not be forgotten by our Lord. He will remember us, he will remain faithful to us, and is faithful to us, even when we have forgotten him.

In Psalm 131, David speaks of resting content in the Lord, as a weaned child with his mother. A weaned child has a calm, a contentment, a security. Resting in the arms of the one who has provided all his needs until his needs were fulfilled, a weaned child rests, assured of continuing love and care, assured that the one who has met his needs of the past will continue to meet the needs that are to come.

The passage from Matthew, this excerpt from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, continues the Psalmist’s theme. David, calmed and content in the arms of the Lord, lives the life called for in Matthew 6:24-34. Not worrying about tomorrow, trusting God to provide for his needs as God provides for the lilies of the fields, David doesn’t have to worry about tomorrow. Nor do we.

So within about 15 minutes of reading the lectionary texts, I had that. Ok, I’m done, I figured. But that won’t take long to say, that’s hardly a full sermon. In fact, it’s only about 4 minutes’ worth. But then again, what more is there to say? God does not forget us, he remains with us, faithful to us, supplying our every need: food, shelter, clothing, giving us nothing to worry about. It’s all right there, spelled out so neatly, so easily.

But is that it? Really? As amazing as all that is, I think there’s still more to be learned from those three passages working together.

While it’s all very true, here, in this context, falling in the midst of the Sermon on the Mount as it does, this passage is saying far more than “Don’t worry, be happy.”

Falling off the face of the earth . . .

So I’ve disappeared, apparently, from Blogland.  I don’t know why.  And I’m either having deja vu or I’ve written that at least half a half a dozen time in the last month or two or three.  I wonder if it’s because I’ve been preaching more regularly lately.  Don’t know.  But today, which, according to my last post must be tomorrow, I’ll talk about my cute kids.  Cuz I can’t do that too much while I’m preaching.  Though I do have a good story about Ruthie and Communion that will likely show up in a sermon some day . . .

So, on the kid front lately . . .

We have Isaac.  Who is seven.  And I’ve decided seven is my all-time favorite age.  At least that’s my story this year.  He’s just such a neat, neat kid.  He’s really coming into his own and we don’t have to struggle over every request, and his brain can handle some more complex thoughts and conversations . . . it’s just so fun.  And he’s so nice to his sisters.  He really is.  Especially when he’s not yelling at or kicking or otherwise bringing harm to Hannah.  They’ve been playing together so much better, just really being good friends together.  I love that.  They must have spent 4 hours in their bedroom on Saturday morning, just doing some sort of imaginative project together.  Very nice.

Now that it’s November, Isaac’s year-round Halloween obsession has come to an end.  I think he actually finally released enough of his Halloween ideas into the atmosphere that he’s no longer exploding with Halloween.  He’s making a good transition into Thanksgiving.  Which is probably his second favorite holiday.  Because of the food.  And because he love love loooves having guests over and hosting events.  He loves it.  So, he’s planned out how we’re going to have our family over for Thanksgiving dinner and he’s divvied up the dishes:  daddy’s turkey, mommy’s gravy, daddy’s mashed potatoes, Aunt L’s sweet potatoes and homemade cranberry sauce (we need her to make cranberry sauce.  I love Aunt L’s homemade cranberry sauce!!!), Grammy’s rutabaga and parsnips, Grandma’s peas and corn and apple pie, and mommy’s pumpkin pie.  I think that all covers it.  And picture it delivered much faster than you just read and with more enthusiasm than you can imagine, and you’re probably close to the live version.  Isaac is excited! about Thanksgiving.  He’s now talking of buying a giant blow-up turkey for our front yard because we don’t have any Thanksgiving decorations.  He’s also started planning for upping our Christmas decorations from last year’s additions.  Think Clark Griswald.  “Christmas Vacation.”  Except his father and I are more the simple all-white little lights and candles in the windows sorts.  If we were actually motivated to decorate at all, that is.  I’m not really sure where this boy came from.

Hannah.  Hannah girlie.  Hannah girlie’s birthday is right around the corner and is she ever excited.  We wrote out her invitations for her friends this morning.  This is her first birthday party with friends invited, not just family.  She was jumping up and down and wiggling with excitement.  Which means, when you do the conversion, if Isaac felt that same level of excitement he would, quite literally, be through the roof and out in space somewhere.  Hannah is giggly and excited and wrote everybody’s names on the envelopes along with a drawing of a stamp and an I <3 U for every one of her classmates.  She’ll be five.  FIVE!  And if she saw you on the street, she would invite you to her party.  She’s just sweet as can be.  And I need to start making some plans.

Her “best friends” in her class are the kids who are in most need of early intervention and/or special education.  I’m not exactly sure why, she can’t explain what she likes best about them, but knowing Hannah, it just seems to fit.  She sees the people most in need of love and care and attention and she lavishes it.  Of all our kids, we can most easily, very easily, see Hannah following in the family business.  Of course, Lord knows what he’ll really call her to, but she has the kindest, gentlest heart and a passion for caring for people.  She’s precious.  Simply precious.

And Ruth.  Ruthie Ruthie Ruthie.  Ruthie’s big project this last week and a half is starting to use the potty.  I’ll save you the gross details.  Suffice it to say, she’s been so easy about it.  She just decided to do it and now she’s doing it.  It’s thrilling.  It’s the end of an era.  And there isn’t an ounce of bitter in its sweetness.  I’m thinking of opening a special savings account where I can squirrel away the money we’ll be saving on diapers.

Now that I’m thinking about it, I might just know the real reason I’ve been absent from blogland.  Ruth has been two-and-a-half.  And if you’ve ever met a 2 1/2 year old, you know what I mean.  Holy moly, Ruth is doing 2 1/2, like she does everything else:  with GUSTO!  Full bore!!!  Yesssireeebob, I am toddler, hear me roar!!!  Wow.  And I’m getting a little old for this stuff.  Finally, finally she seems to be mellowing out some.  Some.  She’s getting a grasp on taking turns.  She’s gaining a little bit of patience.  She’s developing better language skills and that seems to diffuse some of the intensity.  But at the end of the day, this toddler is positively hysterical.  When she’s not screaming at me, she’s saying and doing some of the funniest things and I find myself laughing at her all day.  What a joy!  What a blessing!

There ya have it.  My three kids and where they’re at and what they’re doing.  Meanwhile, I’m watching them grow and learn and be, and am, in many ways, simply along for the ride.  These years are far too fleeting.  I don’t want to miss a second.