Second Sunday before Lent: Genesis 1:1-2:3, Romans 8:18-25 and Matthew 6:25-end
Bobby McFerrin is an american folk and jazz singer with a distinctive vocal technique who’s probably best known for the song, ‘don’t worry, be happy’.
He wrote the track after seeing the slogan on a poster and he was taken by its simplicity. It was a hit which brought him worldwide recognition and won him a Grammy award in 1989.
For some, this was a sunny, optimistic song about survival: about surviving when rent has to be paid, about life without cash or style or a gal by his side. Worrying doesn’t lengthen our days; every life has some trouble, worrying can make it double.
There’s a risk with such lyrics that they become superficial truisms; a saying that makes us feel worse rather than better. Some of us will worry more than others - about little things or situations which feel insurmountable; the realities of our own lives and loved ones, or the scale of challenge confronting us in terms of living costs, racial justice and the environment.
‘Don’t worry, be happy’ doesn’t seem to cut it. Yet as a piece of spiritual or practical wisdom not worrying is at the heart of today’s gospel. Jesus says, ‘I tell you, do not worry’; don’t worry about life, food, drink or clothing.
As we heard that reading, there’s an important word coming before that statement: ‘therefore’. Therefore, do not worry. “Therefore” points us back to Jesus’ teaching in the sermon on the mount.
Such teaching which both intensifies and internalises the law of love - it’s an ethic which gives a glimpse of God’s kingdom, which Jesus invites us to seek.
It is a love which speaks of faithful hearts and which curtails insults or unkind thoughts; a love which entails truthfulness and restrains vengeance; a love which goes beyond our own loyalties of family ties.
It is a love that shuns the false idols of wealth, consumption, acquisition and materialism; it makes space for generous giving, moderation in lifestyles and resisting being possessed by possessions.
The scope of this love - from heart to action, thought to service - is the context and basis of Jesus saying: ‘therefore, do not worry’.
As Anna Case-Williams puts it, the ‘capacity to trust in God’s providence enough not to worry requires seeing the world differently’. That way of seeing flows from the poetic vision of Genesis - a world of beauty and goodness, plenty and fruitfulness.
It’s a vision where God’s care and provision is evident: look at the birds of the air - from the murmurations of starlings to the blackbirds, sparrows, wrens and robins; look at the flowers of the fields - or snowdrops in a churchyard, daffodils in gardens and roses in parks.
Matisse - reproduced here
Jesus is not being naive about basic needs or disregarding struggles for survival - for God’s goodness makes demands on us to seek justice and flourishing common life. This is a collective vision of shared responsibilities; narrowing the gap; being able to say this is good.
Yet, that work is a labour. Romans 8 presents us with an image of creation itself waiting with eager longing - for hope beyond futility, for freedom from decay. The whole creation groans, the Spirit groans within us as we await the glory that is to be revealed.
Something decisive happened in Christ’s life, death and resurrection. We are invited to share in the labour of making hope visible through the outworking of love.
As we labour we are set free from dazzling prizes and glittering possessions. For wealth is an affliction to those who have too much as to those exploited by it. There is something in Jesus’ teaching which is about being freed to pay attention to what is good and beautiful.
We are freed in hope and trust to seek God’s righteousness first: to seek that which is just, merciful, compassionate, hope-filled.
Do not worry isn’t simply a truism that it adds nothing by way of length or quality to our days; it isn’t simply a catchy and optimistic song or good advice. Somehow it reflects the character of God’s new creation - of which we through faith are the first fruits.
The goodness of creation in all its fruitful abundance and the eager longings for liberation is a hope which enlarges our imaginations and encourages our actions. If we are no longer limited by fear and scarcity or overwhelmed by worry, might we live out of a love that is inexhaustible, a relentless mercy, a fathomless compassion? Might such a hope be manifest in our lives - because small acts of love reflect a love without limit.
As our collect puts it, to rejoice that God created the heavens and the earth; that we are made in God’s image becomes a prayer that we may not only see where God is at work, but also respond to God’s likeness in all people.
Such reverence and respect impacts on the work of racial justice and mutual flourishing - as we seek the radical inclusion of walking together in our differences for the sake of a kingdom of righteousness, of justice and peace: telling better stories, being allies and advocates; hearing different voices; celebrating diversity and dignity, with a unity of purpose.
It’s not so much ‘don’t worry, be happy’ as ‘don’t worry, trust love’.
As Stanley Hauerwas puts it: ‘Such trust is not an irrational gesture against the chaos of life, but rather a witness to the very character of God’s care of creation. So it is no wonder that Jesus directs our attention to birds and lilies to help us see how it is possible to live in joyful recognition that God has given us all we need’.
We can go further, that God has given us the people we need too: to journey with as we move hearts from lament to action; as we live out of the abundance of love for the sake of a hope that changes things. Amen.
© Julie Gittoes 2023
