TROUBLE ENOUGH


So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has trouble enough of its own. 
(Matthew 6: 34 – NAS)

 
Jesus has reminded us in several different ways that we can trust God to watch out for us. The Lord is our heavenly Father who cares about us. He is our good Master who protects and provides for His servants. Even as He cares for the “little things” of creation, such as small birds and lilies that are here today and gone tomorrow, how much more does He care about us? We are the ones He desires to call His Children. We are the ones to whom He desires to give the authority of heaven.

Of course the Lord will watch out for us!

So here, Jesus tells us not to worry about tomorrow.

After all, can we make tomorrow come any faster by worrying about it? No. And usually, if we have fallen into worrying about things, we do not want tomorrow to come faster.

It is so easy for us to anticipate problems, even when we are in the midst of a current set of challenges. As we wrestle with the current difficulties, we lift our heads for a moment and see that outside the ring a couple more wait to pounce on us in turn. So we start worrying about them, because they look big and bulky, and we know we will be exhausted after dealing with the current challenge. So our grip slips and the current combatant starts pummeling us even more.

Jesus reminds us that each day has “trouble enough of its own.”

Deal with the here and now.

As simple as that.

The truth of the matter is that once we have dealt with the current problem, two things can happen. First, we might learn that we are much more competent and capable than we thought we were. And second, sometimes those problems we see in tomorrow are very dependent upon what we are dealing with today. If we solve this problem right now, some of those anticipated challenges evaporate.

We cannot know what God will do, other than love us. That much we are assured of: that His love is always with us, His attention is always upon us, that He knows already our every need and is laying groundwork ahead of us. All we need to is trust Him and follow His pathway.

Why do we find that so difficult?

We let many things pull at us during the course of the day. We spend time in morning prayer with the Lord and then immediately afterward dash off to deal with the days chores and challenges. We feel responsible for the work we are supposed to be doing, to do our jobs, take care of our families, meet our obligations. But we do not always remember to invite God to come along with us.

Oh, He is always there, of course. But He does prefer when we bring Him along intentionally on our part, when we consider Him an active partner in all our endeavors.

And yet we forget about that part of the relationship.

So we wind ourselves up over problems we encounter, whether pragmatic things we need to untangle or relationships that have gone awry. We’re the ones that are supposed to deal with these things, aren’t we? Will we bring it to a successful conclusion? Will we get all the work done today that needs to be done today? Will we have the right answer for the boss? Worry, worry, worry. And then we have to do it all over again tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. Round and round and round with seemingly little variation.

And then Jesus tells us not to worry, not about the concerns for today and not about the troubles of tomorrow.

We move through time. We think about time. We think about days past and how they affected us, both our personal histories and the scope of the ages that preceded us. We think about what will unfold before us in the next hour, the next day, the next week and on into the future of possibilities. Something about or very nature compels us to be conscious of this vast scope of time and possibility.

And yet we cannot really do anything to affect anything on either side of this moment, not in a substantial way. We cannot reach into the past and change a fact, no matter how much we may wish to do so. Likewise, we cannot reach into the future and pin down something we deeply desire to occur, no matter how great our desire to do so. All we have is this moment, right now.

What then is before you? Are the problems in front of you really so great that you cannot deal with them? Or have you been ballooning up their size because you have filled them with the dreadful possibilities of tomorrow? If we let out the hot air of “what it will be like tomorrow”, what do you have?

Usually, we find we have something we can deal with. It may not be pleasant, and yes, it may have to be dealt with again tomorrow. But it can be faced. If it is something that requires a decision from us, then decide. Say “Yes” or “No” to whatever the matter is, and then move on. There’s no need to get into a staring match with Today’s Problem, hoping that just by staring it down you will reduce it to ashes. Alas, that is not the way of This-Day’s-Trouble. “Maybe if I do nothing, it will go away,” rarely works the way we wish it would.

I’m a great one for anticipating problems. It is part of the skill set of a Control Freak. If I’m running something, I try to figure out ahead of time everything that might possibly turn up and then I build in the solution to those snags before-hand. That’s part of the job, when you are overseeing a project or event, part of today's “troubles.” But once that is done, I might still start fretting about everything that falls outside my control and ability to anticipate. Earthquakes, fire, tempests, human locusts, whatever. Is the Zombie Apocalypse really going to happen tomorrow? Probably not. Why am I worrying about that?

All joking aside, Jesus wants us to remember that we do have enough on our plate as it is. Being merciful, kind, being a peacemaker, these things require our attention to the here-and-now. We should not let ourselves be distracted by what-might-be. Until we actually meet it, there is nothing we can do about it. If we are always looking ahead, we can easily miss what is right in front of us. And our proper service to the Lord lies in dealing with those people and circumstances that are right in front of us, right now.

 Today has “trouble enough” of its own. Deal with that, and stop worrying.

SET YOUR PRIORITIES

 
But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
(Matthew 6: 33 – NAS)


After reminding us that we do not have cause to worry about our basic needs, Jesus tells us what we should give top priority. We are to first seek God’s kingdom and His righteousness. 

Someone once reacted to the previous verses about how God already knows what we need by inquiring as to whether that meant we were not to ask for the things we need. But I don’t think that is what Jesus meant at all. He has told us not to worry about those needs (not an easy task!), but if we remember what is in the Lord’s Prayer we can see that we may indeed ask for such things (“our daily bread”). 

The point in this verse is to direct our attention to where it should be focused: on the Lord, His kingdom and righteousness. 

Jesus began the Sermon on the Mount by describing what those things looked like: open hearted to the world, willing to mourn loss, to be merciful, be peacemaking, hungry for righteousness, steadfast in our commitment to Him even in the face of persecution. All these things make for the kingdom of God here and now. If we seek these things first, Jesus tells us, everything else will be “added to you.” 

It should be straightforward for us. Seek God first, be His type of person in the world first, and everything else that we need will be placed in our hands, along with the authority of heaven. How hard is that? Spending time with the Lord in prayer, doing the “right things” shouldn’t be that difficult, should it? And yet, every day it seems we need to start over again, wrestling our hearts and minds away from concern about our needs. And if we are at a point where our needs are being met, then it is our desires that get our priority attention, even when they are in themselves worthy of God’s attention. It isn’t easy at all. 

Often we tell our fellow believers, “I need to spend more time with God.” And we put that into practice, and what happens? Those prayer sessions become long stretches of prayers about needs, our own or those we have chosen to pray for. “I need this, Joe needs that, Sharon needs these things. Help us, Lord, we are needy.” And of course, there is nothing wrong in themselves with prayers like that. Our God loves that we do come to Him with our concerns, just as any father does when his child comes to him for comfort or help.  

But do we really “spend time” with God? Do we ever do anything like being a child who climbs onto her father’s lap and begs her father to tell her a story or to show her something wonderful? Do we ever behave like the child who runs up to his father and grabs whatever part of his parent that he can reach to hug tightly in adoration. How many times have we smiled at the sight of a small child hugging a parent’s leg because that’s all the child could reach? Yet, when was the last time we approached God that way? 

We let our priorities get skewed to focus on our needs because we do not open our hearts and minds to see the ways that God meets us every day. Our Father is all about us, ready at hand, and yet we do not give our attention to the wonders he puts before us. And we narrow our vision so much to our worries and concerns, that we choke off the actions Jesus called “blessed” in the Beatitudes. We don’t have time (we say) to really give over to mourning, and so we rush on with our lives with un-comforted grief carried inside us. Because we worry so much about ourselves, we do not give time to being merciful to those we encounter in passing during the day, whether it’s the reckless driver who cut us off on the freeway or the less-than-perfect waitress who served us at the restaurant. We forget mercy toward these people, cursing the driver and cutting the tip to the waitress. We see two people arguing and realize that they are clashing because they have each misunderstood one key point the other made. It would be easy enough to step in and say, “Bob, when Joe said X you took it as this and that is not what he meant. And Joe, when Bob reacted, you thought it was because of Y and that has nothing to do with it. You are both actually on the same page about this.” But instead, we shrug because it “isn’t any of my business.” 

God wants us to be pro-active as His people, His children, His heirs, as we go through life. Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness and all these things will be given to us. 

Yet we keep worrying about the “things.” 

Everything that Jesus described as being part of God’s kingdom and righteousness has, in fact, nothing to do with things. There is no physical object on this earth that is required for us to “seek the kingdom and God’s righteousness” other than other human beings. Because, let us remember, the kingdom of God is all about relationships: our relationship to the Almighty Himself and then our relationships to each other. Do we need food or shelter or money for those? No, we do not. Oh, money helps us “make more” of what we can do with other people, spending time, sharing meals, giving gifts. But we do not actually need money for those things. 

Lest you think I am writing this from a place of comfort in my life, I’m not, really. At the time of this writing, though I have a nice apartment, this month’s rent has not been paid. Though I do have some food to eat, it is not much at all, for I have little means to buy greater amounts and variety. But it sustains me. It is“daily bread.” For months, the admonition from Jesus not to worry about our needs has been something I have had to wrestle with. Over and over in little ways, God has shown me that the more I clutch my neediness to me, the harder it is for Him to give me anything. You’d think it would be easy to learn this lesson, but the world finds ways to challenge us every step of the way. Yet, for all the worries that I let pull at me when I am awake, I sleep peacefully at night. My heart knows and trusts the Lord much more fully than my waking mind, it would seem. 

And so in my struggling way, I try to shift my priorities back to what Jesus has put before us. To seek the kingdom of God and His righteousness first. To know my need of God first and foremost (to be “poor in spirit”), to mourn for losses, to be gentle, to hunger and thirst for righteousness, to be merciful, to be pure in heart, to be a peacemaker, and to stand for the Lord no matter what. I ask for my daily bread, to be forgiven, and to be protected from temptation and evil. And then I ask that God’s will be done.  

Some days I do it better than others. But I am trying to get my priorities straight with the Lord.

YOUR FATHER KNOWS


Do not worry, then, saying, ' What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear for clothing?' For the Gentiles eagerly seek for all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 
(Matthew 6: 31-32 – NAS)                                                                           


Jesus has just humorously reminded His followers of how wonderfully God takes of simple things like birds and flowers. He has even chided them in a light way about not having faith in the Lord’s providence by saying “Oh, you of little faith!” He wants to inspire them to even greater faith than they have at present.

To do that, He tells them once more not to worry about the basics of their lives. Don’t worry about what you will eat, or drink, or what clothing you will have. Even the Gentiles worry about that sort of thing, He tells them. 

Jesus references the outsiders of faith, the Gentiles, at this point. It is an indirect way of reminding His Jewish followers that they, as a people, were called by God to be a holy nation, a priesthood to the world. They were called to be something more than “just ordinary.” 

“Even the Gentiles do this,” He says. It emphasizes again that these things we worry about are indeed the basics of life. God knows that all of His creation has need of them. He doesn’t need reminding of that fact. 

“Your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.” 

Again, Jesus reminds us of the richness of our relationship with the Lord. Moments earlier He had addressed the nature of God as our sovereign Master whom we are to serve. But now, He returns to the relationship of us as God’s children. 

Is there a conflict in that? 

Perhaps in our democratized society, where lordship is not a factor, we are far removed from the concept of serving a lord and master. We use that phrase “lord and master” disparagingly of those with despotic attitudes, who control every detail of the lives in their charge. We equate being in service to such as being slaves, uncared for, disregarded except for the insisted service. But for older cultures, that was not necessarily the case. 

Lords had as many responsibilities to their underlings as the retainers and servants had to the lord. The lord was responsible for the protection of his people, making sure they had access to save havens in time of war, that their shelters were sufficient against the effects of weather. Ideally, it would be the lord’s task to make certain that his retainers had food enough – and that meant not just those serving in his household, but also the workers in the fields and those who handled the livestock. It does the lord no good to have people who are weak and starving. If his people were in need, it was the lord’s job to find the means to provide for them – helping them reach new markets, if trade was the answer, protecting them from raiders, if such thieves were the problem. Not every lord was contentious about such duties, of course, but everyone understood that was the standard. 

And what of the task of being a master? 

In its simplest meaning, it does indeed mean that the master has control over all the actions of his underling. He can order the lesser person to do any possible thing, for that is the power of his position. But there is more to mastery than that. For the term “master” is also used of a teacher. This was particularly notable when trade guilds were most in use.  

In the guild structure, there were generally three levels of achievement: apprentice, journeyman, master.  

The apprentice was the student, one who was learning the basics of the craft, polishing his or her skills. They would be given the initial simple tasks to do, so that they could first learn the tools of their trade. An apprentice carpenter, for instance, would likely be set to cutting the wood, so that he would learn not only how to use the axe properly but also the various natures of the different woods. Dealing with the wood in its most basic form would give the apprentice a “feel” for it. He might then be set to planing the surfaces with a plane, making them flat and smooth. This would be done under the eye of the master, who has much more experience and can show the apprentice the best way to do something, and also where he has gone wrong in his work. 

Once an apprentice has learned the basics and has achieved a level of competency in their craft, he becomes a journeyman. The journeyman is one who has the ability to deliver a good job, a reliable job on whatever the craft he practices. A journeyman carpenter was the worker the master could send out to a customer who needed hardy work tables and benches made. The journeyman could be trusted to select the suitable wood, assemble the pieces correctly, and complete the task without error. To be a journeyman was an honorable level of service. Even though we now use the term dismissively, that is only because we have acquired a distorted perception of the level of master craftsman. You don’t usually need a master plumber when your drains are clogged, but you certainly don’t really want an apprentice. You want the reliable journeyman, who knows what he’s doing and will do it efficiently. 

Eventually, one might rise to the level of master. This is the craftsman who has learned the skills of his craft so well that he can now envision even more ways of using those skills. He can easily teach the basics to apprentices, he can do the reliable work, but he can also stretch beyond what most thought possible in the craft. There was a time when the term “masterwork” did not mean the absolute best that artist could achieve (often a piece done late in that craftsman’s life). Instead, it meant first work that showed that the craftsman had moved beyond being a mere journeyman, that he had indeed “mastered” the skills and could now make those skills do what he wanted.  

Now consider again that phrase “lord and master.” God is all that to us. Our protector and teacher, who is trying to raise us up through the ranks of His apprentices. But He is also our Father. 

It was, in fact, not unusual for children (sons in particular, given the history of treatment of women) to follow in the footsteps of their parents in terms of learning a craft or skill. They would not, ideally, get special treatment or privileges simply because they were the child of the master. They were expected to learn the basics like any other apprentice. 

And that is how Jesus can so easily move from speaking of God as our Master to God as our Father. There is no conflict in it. There is only a broadening of the type of relationship we can have with the Lord.  

God IS our Father. The Creator of the Universe considers us His children, whom He loves. He knows what our basic needs are, those things that we let worry us the most. He knows we need shelter and food. He does not forget that. We don’t need to tell Him. (Perhaps He is waiting for us to get beyond the needs on our list and raise up to Him broader concerns that will draw us closer to Him? Now that’s worth a thought.)

FOR THIS REASON




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? Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor do they reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life? And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil or spin, yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. 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!
(Matthew 6: 25-30 – NAS)



Jesus begins this section by saying, “For this reason....”


“For which reason?” we ask.


We have gotten so used to breaking up the things Jesus says into convenient little segments we call verses, that we often overlook the flow of one concept into the next. We memorize our verses in isolation of their context. Not that such a habit negates the power of such verses, but we lose some of the effect by forgetting to check the context.


The reason Jesus is talking about is what He had just said: we cannot serve both God and money. Between that sentence and the first one in this passage, He heavily implies that we ought to choose God as our Master. For this reason, then, we are not to be worried. God is our Master and is on the job doing what masters do in taking care of their servants.


Jesus knows that our primal worries are for food and protection of our bodies (clothing first and then shelter). And He knows that we have a hard time relating to – and even relying upon – an invisible master. We cannot see God Himself as easily as we see our work-boss or the currency in our pocket. So Jesus takes the time to remind us of how all-encompassing God’s dominion really is.


You worry about food? Look at the birds! God feeds them, even though they do not plant seed and raise the food they eat. They do not take the time to harvest and process food. But God feeds them. They go about the world fulfilling their purpose in just being birds, and God takes care of them.


And you are worth far more to the Lord than the birds of the air.


Of course, Jesus doesn’t forget that the cause of our distraction from dwelling upon the sovereignty of God lies in our daily worries. So He speaks to that: can you add a single hour to your life by worrying?


Studies have shown that we can very well shorten our life-times by worrying. The stresses that anxiety and worry create in our bodies wear away at them, sapping our inner strength. Worry undercuts our ability to take joy in our work and in the people around us. But can we increase our lifespan by worrying about how we are to get on? No we cannot.


Jesus then moves on to our worries about what we are to wear. Now admittedly, we do have an inclination to look nice. Jesus knows that full well, just as He knows how easily we can get caught up in the dream of looking better and better and better. He even addresses it straight on: “Solomon in all his glory.”


By all accounts, Solomon loved rich, fabulous beauty, around him and on his back. When he became king, he inherited a large treasury that his father had built up. David had amassed this fortune so that a glorious temple to the Lord could be built in Jerusalem. He had been forbidden to do so himself (being a man of war and blood), but he decided that he would make sure that the glory of God would be reflected in the temple he charged his son Solomon to build. And Solomon did use the fortune for that purpose. But because of his wise rulership, he also greatly increased the wealth of the king, and he celebrated it, in the surroundings of his palace and in the clothes he wore. The “glory of Solomon” was very great indeed for that age.


But Jesus undercuts that all by pointing to the lilies of the field, and saying that the dazzling display of Solomon was still less than the beauty of lilies in a field.


“Really?” we wonder. Is Jesus serious? Fine linen and wool clothes dyed in rich colors, even the famed, rare and expensive Tyrian purple? Embroidery with gold thread? Jewelry of gold with pearls and other gemstones? A lily is finer than that?


But a lily in a field on a sunny day is indeed a thing of great beauty. In the midst of the greens of grass, the lily opens out its trumpet-shape, glowing white against the green around it. The petals gently curve outward in a graceful arc at the end, their texture softer than silk. And deep in the heart of the trumpet, the pistols and stamens glow with a yellow far warmer than gold.


We so often substitute “bright and shiny” for the real beauty of God’s creation.


That is what Jesus is trying to remind us of: God is the Master Craftsman. The Lord lavishes all this beautiful details on the simple things that, basically, garnish the world. The birds of the air and the lilies of the field are flourishes and pleasing ornaments to His creation. We, as His children, are so much more than flourishes and ornaments.


Even when we remember that God considers us His children, we still let anxiety about what we will eat and how we will stay clothed and sheltered nibble away at us. When things go rough for us, we worry about having “enough.” Jesus tells us that the birds of the air get “enough.” He tells us that in God’s eyes we are worth far more than “enough.” And that His care will bring us far more.


“You of little faith!”


Jesus must have been smiling as he said that. He knows how easily we can be shaken. He knows that the ember of faith can be choked. But the spark has not gone out. With His reminder of how God treats the birds and the flowers, He gently blows upon our faith, encouraging the flame to grow again. Even a little faith is enough to start a fire again. Let us remember the power of the Master we have chosen.

CHOOSE YOUR MASTER


No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth. 
(Matthew 6: 24 – NAS)


Jesus had just been talking about how we choose to see the world around us, about whether we choose to see with clear eyes and to take in and give out light, or whether we choose to see darkly, taking darkness into our hearts and radiating that upon all around us. In the next verse after this one, He will remind us of God’s hand on the world and how we can trust the Almighty. 

But smack! right here between those two, He makes this declaration about serving masters, and He is very blunt about it. Why is that? 

Jesus understands that one of the most powerful things that can darken a person’s world is anxiety about “making ends meet.” He knows we worry about providing food and clothing for ourselves and our families (in fact, He’ll comment on that shortly). And because we require money to attend to those needs, we worry about having money, or not having money. The medium of exchange can quickly become an end in itself. 

But Jesus talks about serving masters. So let’s look at that general observation first. 

“No one can serve two masters.” 

How often does this happen? We generally like a clear “chain of command” for our activities. We prefer to be answerable to one specific person in our jobs. When we have to please two people, things get complicated. There is no guarantee that both of those who have an immediate authority over us will have similar goals or desires regarding the work we are to perform. The clash of conflicting requirements makes our work-load harder, and leads us to resentment directed at one (or both) of those supervisors.  

Jesus points out the results of being stuck with two masters: we’ll hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. Resentment intensifies our emotions in such a situation. The master we prefer gets the focus of our attention, while the master we resent gets bitterness from us. We do not like to divide our focus and we resist situations that seem to require it of us.  

It’s one thing when the situation of two masters is imposed on us by others. That does happen from time to time, and we have to find a way to prioritize the demands of those over us. But what about those occasions when we actually choose to try and serve two masters?  

Are we being honest about how well we can serve both? Even if emotional resentment and devotion does not enter into the picture, divided attention and focus does not generate the best quality work. And that is just when we are considering serving two human masters who can interact with us. 

Jesus drives home the point He is making with the final sentence: “You cannot serve God and wealth."  

Our first reaction is “Well, okay. I don’t have a problem with that.” None of us want to consider ourselves as being greedy. We feel that if we are judicious about money, not misusing it, not plugging into ostentatious display, that we’ve avoided the “serving wealth” pit-fall. But have we really done so?  

Certainly, Jesus was aware that many people are greedy and fall in love with the idea of having lots of money. Whatever the Having of Money represents to them, whether power or influence or endless comfort, such people clutch money to themselves and hold onto it “for dear life.” But is that the same as “serving” wealth? It comes close, but is not what I think Jesus is addressing at this point. 

What is it that we do when we choose to serve something? We answer to the demands it makes on our lives, in terms of use of time and energy. We subdue other desires and impulses, in order to serve “the Master” first. 

And how does that appear when we fall into serving Wealth (or Money)?  

Jesus has just been talking about our sense of vision, about choosing to take light into ourselves instead of darkness. He then makes this comment about serving two masters. He will then follow it with recommending that we trust God to provide for us. But in His sequence of points, He drives home how we tend to shape our lives and our outlooks: we worry about money. We worry about making “enough” money. We let our anxieties about meeting our financial obligations darken our vision and our hearts. 

That is such an easy thing to fall into! Our sense of responsibility tells us that we should be able to take care of our obligations, that dealing fairly with those around us involves paying our bills, paying for services received, buying our food. Are those not proper considerations? 

They are. But only so long as we remember that they are simply the means by which we conduct our lives. They are not ends in themselves. Having a home should not be an end in itself: it provides us with a place to rest, it gives us a base that allows us to extend hospitality to others, it provides regular shelter from the elements. But it is only the means by which we reach the goal of living – of interacting with others with rested ease, of using the talents the Lord has given us. 

Having money enables us to live with greater ease, but it is not Living in and of itself. Do we stop living if we have no money? There are certainly times when we feel that we will stop living if we don’t have money: how shall we get food to eat without money? How shall we get to work if we don’t have money? How will we clothe ourselves if we don’t have money? 

But if we don’t know how to live because we think living depends entirely on having money, we wouldn’t really know what to do with the funds if we really “had enough.” 

Look again: you are serving a Master, one way or another. What sort of Master are you serving? 

Master Money, what is he like? He cares nothing for you or your desires. He cannot love you. If he is small, he is never enough. If he is large, he consumes all your time in protecting him. If you fall in love with him, you devote all your time to expanding his size and power. But no matter how much devotion you pour into him, he can never love you, never approve of your works and talents, never smile upon you. 

Master God, on the other hand, cares deeply for you. He loves you. He smiles on your endeavors and is pleased to see you exercise your talents well. He is large beyond our comprehension, vaster than we can imagine. He needs no protection from us, so we need not be spending our energy on shielding Him. Nothing we can do can ever make Him greater than He already is, so His requirements of us are never geared toward filling Him up. 

What are those requirements He has made of us again? What service is it that this Master has asked of us? 

To be humble, to be peacemakers, to seek righteousness, to be merciful. To care for those around us, to offer prayers is secret, to be generous to others in secret, to not waste our devotion upon things that can be easily stolen or destroyed. 

Does this service require money to be accomplished? 

No, it does not. Still, we frequently get into the mindset of “If I had This Much Money, I could do all these wonderful things for the Lord!” But why, Jesus seems to be asking, do you think Money is required, when God is the Lord of the Universe? He never required “money” of you in the first place, but rather “the fruits of your labor.” It is our fixation on money that has turned the tithe into mere coinage. 

You cannot serve two masters. Choose the one who actually loves you.

WALKING IN DARKNESS


But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!
(Matthew 6: 23 – NAS)

Following what he said in the previous verse, about keeping our vision, our eyes, clear, Jesus now addresses the alternative. 

What if we do let our sight “go bad”, what happens to us and those around us? Jesus says that your whole body will be full of darkness. 

Studies have shown that a patient’s mental outlook can affect the progress of their recovery from illness or surgery. When the patient is optimistic, when he lives in a spiritual state of hope and acceptance, the progress usually is quite good. But when the patient is depressed, things do not go as well. One could say that metaphorically, a depressed patient is “full of darkness.” 

What are those things that can cloud our vision, and bring darkness into our lives? 

Broken relationships certainly have the power to throw shadows over us. The loss of the light of a joyful relationship leaves us in the dark night of pain. It almost doesn’t matter how the loss occurs – whether the relationship itself turned sour or we simply lose someone to death. We grieve in the loss, and suffer the pain of the broken connection. 

Anxiety about work or income can also smother the light in our lives. Our sense of responsibility to our obligations can weight us down so much that our eyes are focused on the ground in front of our feet. We worry about planting the next step forward, so much so that our vision gets clouded and we cannot see at all. 

When we let our own internal light grow dark, hiding all that is within us, we also smother the light that ought to be shining out to others. 

We are sensitive to each other’s conditions. We have any number of expressions that describe what is basically this spiritual darkness – “under a cloud” and “he’s in a really dark mood” are just two of them. We can tell when someone else is not just having a rough time, but is caught in a fist of darkness. 

And we prefer to avoid such people. Perhaps we fear contamination of the mood. Distress that is flooded with dark fears feels toxic to other people. No matter how much they may love you, when you have let your inner light be turned to darkness, their instinct is to stay clear of it. 

I think that is why Jesus says “If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!” 

Remember, He has already told His followers that they are the light of the world, that they should shine brightly and fill their houses with light. And just before this, He has described the inner light we should all be nurturing as being a lamp to the body.  

When we take darkness into ourselves, no matter what the source of the darkness is, we affect far more than our own conditions. When we carry darkness with us, it travels around us like a cloud, raining our sorrow or distress or anxiety on those around us. It touches them and affects them, and brings shadows into their days. 

How then are we to avoid this? What can we do? 

Jesus will have something to say to that in a few verses, but for the moment, the best answer is to choose light. However we can imagine that, even if it is simply giving thanks. 

We do not have to stay walking in darkness.

BRIGHT EYES


The eye is the lamp of the body; so then if your eye is clear, your whole body will be full of light.
(Matthew 6: 22)


When we talk about happy and joyful people, we often speak of them having “bright eyes”. Something about our internal state of being shows in our faces, and in particular, in our eyes. 

The eye is the organ we use to see what is around us. So it seems a bit odd for Jesus to compare the eye to a lamp. The eye does not, in fact, give out light the way a lamp does. It is “just” the means by which we see light. So how can the eye be a lamp to the whole body. 

Jesus uses the metaphor to get us to consider how we view the world around us. For our attitude shapes our physical conditions in many ways. 

We talk of those who have romantically optimistic outlooks as looking at the world “through rose colored glasses.” We mean that they are seeing beauty and softness where things are in reality otherwise. We know it is a delusion of sorts, pitiable, because eventually the Rose-Glasses Wearer will have to come into blunt contact with how things really are. 

There are those who accuse believers of deluding themselves, of wearing rose colored classes and refusing to see the world as it is. And the accusers are not just non-believers, but often fellow Christians who in their “greater” spiritual maturity seek to discourage others from following delusions. 

But seeing the world through rose colored glasses is not the same thing as seeing the world in the light of God. Filling ourselves with the light of God lets us walk IN the light, and it lets us see clearly those things around us. 

Having clear sight means that one does indeed see the world as it is, all the petty squabbles, the hazards and obstacles that get thrown in the pathway of each of us. Having clear sight means that we know and understand the difficulties around us. But it also means that we do not let what we see “cloud our judgment” or thwart our energy and determination. 

Jesus says that when our eyes are clear, we become filled with light. This taking of light into ourselves is not a benefit to us alone, but rather also to those around us. If we are filled with light, how can we not be a light to others? 

We live in a cynical age. We live in a depressed age. Life is not easy and things are not rosy, not when we consider the over-all state of things. As believers we do need to see the world as it is. How can we see hunger and thirst (whether for righteousness or mere foodstuffs) if we do not see clearly? How can we see conflicts where we can be peacemakers if we do not see clearly? How can we see repentance that calls for mercy, if we do not see clearly? 

Our trust in the Lord’s providence cannot be based on a rose-colored vision of Pie in the Sky. It needs to be based on a clear perception of what is happening around us, and what the Lord is doing. 

But to be filled with light and to see the world in and through that light means that we have to let go of our cynical approach to life. Things may be harsh and difficult, but in the light of God’s presence in our lives, we can also see the possibilities for His Glory to shine in our actions. 

“With God all things are possible.” 

That doesn’t mean that things do not remain harsh or difficult. Of course they do. But it does mean that we ourselves do not have to become harsh or difficult as well. If we are filled with light, if we are a lamp indeed, then we can throw light on the world around us and change what is most immediate. And if we spread our light just a little bit to others, they also begin to take on that light, adding to it. 

I’ve tried to live by this, though I haven’t always succeeded. The very next verse, Jesus speaks of those who let their vision get clouded, and Lord knows I’ve done that! But choosing to clear my vision of the dark clouds has lightened my inner being. It doesn’t make the problems less, or the difficulties easier. But I am not so much one who “dwells in darkness.” 

We must take care when we see our fellow believers bright with hope and optimism. We should carefully nurture them and find out if they are indeed seeing clearly or not. We should not assume that their happy brightness glows through a rose tinting. It would be very easy for us to discourage others by treating them as deluded dreamers. We are told to encourage each other, to lift each other up. 

Are we letting the light in? 

And more importantly, are we letting the light out, to shine on others?

KEEPING A TREASURE HOUSE

 
Do not store up for yourselves treasure on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal. for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
(Matthew 6: 19-21 – NAS)

 
Jesus wants us to hold the objects of this world very lightly. He tells us this because He knows our capacity for caring about things deeply. 

It is built into our nature to cherish something, almost anything. We are creatures who invest our hearts in things, and He does not consider this tendency a bad thing. Note that He does not tell His followers to avoid treasuring anything. Instead, He tells them to “store up treasures in heaven.” 

What does He mean by that? 

Well, first He reminds us that the things of this world are transient. They are not going to last, one way or another. Moths and rust can destroy objects. Of course, those are not the limits of erosion and corrosion. But He’s not trying to give us a full list of all the natural ways objects can be worn down; He’s just trying to get us to recall that nothing this side of heaven is permanent.  

But beyond the natural wearing-away of things, He also reminds us of human nature. Thieves can break in and steal those objects we hold precious. Someone can simply take away our treasures, snatching them out of our hands. 

Once again, Jesus makes it clear that His followers will not be living in a perfect world here. He’s warned them that they will be persecuted. He’s told them to be peacemakers – which means there will be conflict. He’s instructed them to resolve their conflicts before worshipping – indicating that even among themselves their human natures will still clash from time to time. And here, He reminds them that there are those around them who might steal their belongings. 

He conveys all this quickly, in order to get to the important thing: where your heart is, that is where your treasure is.  

If your heart is settled in the objects you possess, when those things are broken by age or stolen by a thief, what then happens to your heart? You are broken and devastated by the loss. And if your attachment to the object is so great that you cannot recover, what does that do to your relationships with other people? 

That is the challenging thing in His words here. He tells His followers to store up treasure in heaven. But what does that mean? What can we possibly store up in heaven? It is clear that He is implying that the things of this world are not likely to be in that heavenly storehouse. How can we convey that family heirloom chair into heaven? What moving service will do that for us? 

We have to look back and consider what He has said about the kingdom of heaven. 

When we do that, we start to realize that what He is talking about is our relationship with God, and after that, our relationships with others. For that is where the kingdom of heaven lies. And the kingdom of heaven is eternal (“for Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever”). 

Why do we find it so easy to invest our hearts in objects? 

Well, for one thing, they do not intentionally hurt our feelings. They are not willfully contrary and they do not challenge us or jeer at us. If they are beautiful, we enjoy their beauty and that fills our hearts with pleasure. That’s not a bad thing in itself.  

God created a universe filled with beauty and when He was finished doing it, He said “It is good.” And He stopped and gave Himself a space to enjoy His creation. When we look at scripture and see that this is how God began His own interaction with creation, how can we believe that He does not want us to appreciate the beauty of created things? 

Where we get into trouble is when we begin to invest such intense feelings for the objects in our lives that we care more about them than we do about the people in our lives. Objects cannot return love to us – they have no love to give. Love is a reciprocal activity. It needs interaction. It needs give and take. An object can do neither of those things, not really. 

I have four pieces of inherited furniture. They are lovely pieces. 

One piece is a graceful table, which had been made by a great-aunt, the sister of my father’s mother. A single woman, that I don’t know all that much about. My understanding is that one of the ways Aunt Dot earned a living was by taking the pre-cut pieces and assembling them. She would do the finishing carving, sand it and stain the wood and put the sealing finish on it. Whenever I consider this table, I’m reminded of the challenges single women faced in the past, the limits of what they could do to take care of themselves, and Aunt Dot’s response to that circumstance. It seems a streak of independence runs in my family. This beautiful table came into our household when I was still very young. 

The second piece is a sideboard with a hutch which I inherited directly from another great-aunt, Aunt Lucy (from whom I got my middle name). I remember it in her house when I was tiny, and so I connect her presence with the object. Since I was still very young when she died, the sideboard was put to regular use by the family. It often served as a buffet for holiday dinners when we entertained. My understanding is that it came from Lucy’s own parental home, giving it a history that reaches back to the late 1800s. 

The third piece is an armchair from my grandparents’ home, one that I remember my father’s mother sitting in when we would visit them. My memories of her picture her sitting very lady-like in that chair, in a pool of light by the window of their living room. 

The fourth piece is a carved chest that was given to my parents as a wedding present. All the sides of it, except the bottom and back, are carved with intricate panels of people in an oriental garden. There were many Saturday mornings where my dusting duties included giving close attention to the chest, dusting into the crevasses of the carving, for there were many tiny places for dust to lodge. 

Each of these pieces hold many memories of the past, of my personal experiences with them, of the people associated with them, of the family history attached to them. They are precious to me. 

But they are precious to me mostly because of the people. They are lovely in their own right, of course, and so they would be very hard to part with on those grounds, for I do love things of beauty. But what truly makes them “treasures” to me are the connections to my family – my Aunt Dot, who I met only once or twice, who met the challenge of her single life by creating something of grace and beauty; my Aunt Lucy, who also lived single and who spent most of her adult life serving as a missionary in India; my grandmother Winifred, who always seemed to me the model of a lady and yet who never was anything but delighted by her rambunctious grandchildren when we invaded their house every other year; and my parents, who had an amazing partnership of love and appreciation for each other. These are the true treasures I hold in my heart. The pieces of furniture, much as I do love their beauties, are only touchstones for the real treasure. They are, for me, physical manifestations that quietly and constantly invoke the beauty of the people associated with them. 

Our relationships, with God and with each other, are the treasures Jesus wants us to store up. Relationships between souls are eternal things. True treasures give our love back to us in relationship. 

Objects can give us pleasure, yes, and there is nothing wrong with pleasure. God takes pleasure in His creation. But pleasure is not Love, it is not the interactive connection of hearts to each other. Why do we give our hearts to objects that are not only transient, but cannot return love to us? 

Love is the most precious treasure we can have, and it is the one best protected by being kept in the storehouse of heaven.

FAST ATTENTION


Whenever you fast, do not put on a gloomy face as the hypocrites do, for they neglect their appearance so that they will be noticed by men when they are fasting. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full. `But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face so that your fasting will not be noticed by men, but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you. 
(Matthew 6: 16-18)

 
Once again, Jesus reminds His followers not to engage in religious practices for the purpose of being noticed by others. Time and again, He reminds us that the Lord give attention to our secret activities, the things we do when nobody else is watching. 

He’s said this of praying in public, and giving in public, and now He says it of those who make a big show of going on a fast. 

What, after all, is the purpose of a fast? 

These days, a lot of people seem to regard it as a period of depriving themselves of foods that they enjoy, “giving up” something special in order to show their devotion to God. After all, that is what a sacrifice is, isn’t it? Giving up something you value, in order to show God your devotion. 

It certainly seems to be how people approach the matter of giving up something for Lent. Sacrificing a pleasure like chocolate, or a daily stimulant like coffee. “All for you, Lord!” And then they spend the forty days of the Lenten season whispering and grieving the loss of the sacrificed item. Because the Lord is so pleased that you are giving this to Him with a joyful heart. 

Oh, yeah, right. That’s supposed to be part of the picture, isn’t it? 

Fasting is a challenge. Our bodies do need sustenance. They function better when properly fed. Our brains work better when they are powered by good food. 

But we can get too comfortable with eating regularly. And our systems can get a big sluggish when well-fed. 

A fast is a way of cleaning out the system. When we have gone without food for a time longer than the usual between-meal span, we become much more aware of what we are missing. The wonderful sustaining power of water is best recognized when we are thirsty, when we have gone without for some time. We drink the water, and we can feel the body rejoicing at receiving it. When we engage in a fast, much the same thing takes place, in a slightly more complex fashion. We become aware of the extended sustenance gained from good proteins, the relaxing satisfaction that comes with a small degree of fat, the energy that sugars in food can provide. The fast has made us conscious of what we take for granted. 

When we fast for religious purposes, part of it is to clear away distractions from the presence of God. Earlier in the Sermon, Jesus spoke of hungering and thirsting for righteousness. Engaging in a fast lets us act out that metaphor, to come to something of the sensation of hungering and thirsting. And when we break that fast, we can thank God for the food and meditate on how His presence should be to our hearts and minds what the food is to our bodies. 

At least that is what it is supposed to be. 

So why the impulse to make a production number out of our fasting? Why announce to others that we are going on a week long fast, wherein we will only consume juice? Why proclaim that for Lent we will be giving up cookies of all sorts? 

Part of it is the desire for accountability. We let others know our intentions so that they can help us stick to it. Rather like publishing our New Year’s Resolutions, by announcing our intention to fast we invite our friends to hold us accountable. 

But also, perhaps, there is the impulse to show off. “Look at me! I’m going to take on this challenge, just for the Lord. I want you to know just how holy I’m being here!” 

And it is THAT impulse that Jesus speaks to, when He says that “they have their reward in full.” If the faster was doing it for attention, he’s gotten it. But it’s not an intention that gives God any pleasure. 

The Lord sees those things which we do in secret. He’s paying attention. And when we choose to practice a fast in order to draw nearer to Him, it pleases Him and He is there to meet us. 

So I will tell you a little secret of mine. 

Often on Sunday mornings, I do not have anything to eat before I head to church. 

Okay, I admit that it began in part because I often dawdle in the mornings, and then run late. In the preparations to get to church, taking the time to fix something to eat gets shunted aside. My life is not so physically demanding that I have a great need to take in some calories in order to start the day. But the more it happened, the more intrigued I became by my experience at worship because of it. 

It really hit me with a thump one Sunday when Communion was served. Since I grew up in the Protestant tradition, weekly Communion was not part of my religious practice. But on this occasion, when I came to the chancel for the elements, I was much struck by the fact that I was there not having yet broken my daily fast. 

“This is the body of Christ, which was broken for you for the forgiveness of sins.” 

“This is the blood of Christ, which was shed for you that you may have life eternal.” 

Is this not a sustenance far more important than the intake of a few calories that will be burned off once I start moving about? 

After that, more and more, it became part of my preparation for worship that I NOT have breakfast before church on Sunday. I began to have more of a sense of wonder about what Jesus says regarding “hungering and thirsting for righteousness.” 

I’m not talking about arriving at church in an “I’m about to pass out from hunger” state. Rather, it is simply a matter of having, for this one day, put nothing, not even my own sustenance, ahead of spending time in worship of the Lord.  

I mention this not to draw attention to the fact that I do this. That’s sort of the point of what Jesus recommends, when he says, “Wash your face. Put on your best, so that no one knows you are fasting.” It’s not a production number for public consumption. I mention it to show what you can gain in the practice. 

I’m sure that there are others who have their private practices of fasting, who have taken to heart the Lord’s words about not drawing attention to their activities. I hope they too find that surprising pleasure in meeting God while unfilled, hungry for something more.

THE BARRIER OF UNFORGIVENESS

 
For if you forgive others for their transgressions, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others, then your Father will not forgive your transgressions. 
(Matthew 6: 14-15 – NAS)


So, Jesus has finished His “example prayer,” but wants to make sure His followers understand a very key point in the prayer. He wants to be certain that we grasp at one thing that can stand between us and our Father in heaven.

Unforgiveness.

The love of God is unconditional. We should never doubt that. He does truly love us with all of His being. But even though that love is indeed unconditional and perpetually available to us, that does not mean that it cannot be obstructed. 

Access to God’s love and forgiveness requires an open channel between our hearts and His. And the one thing that can block that up, that can choke off the flow, is a failure to forgive others. 

Why should this be so? 

In simplest terms, unforgiveness is a failure to love others. When we do not forgive others, we have shut them out of our hearts. We close the door on any connection to that person.  

But God is Love, and needs “open doors.” God cannot enter in, if we have closed off our door to anyone. He can stand outside knocking (“I stand at the door and knock.” Rev. 3: 20), but He has to wait for us to open the door to Him. 

It’s easy to fall into regarding these two verses as a sort of quid pro quo, we do this for God and He’ll do that for us. We can fall into treating the act of forgiving others as if it were just another duty. We don’t always think about it as being necessary to our relationship with God. 

Yet, every small unforgiveness is one thing standing between us and the full love of God. 

And there’s another thing that gets in the way of our being able to fully commit to forgiving others: we actually find it easier to forgive strangers and those outside our intimate circle than it is to forgive those who are “inside our defenses.” 

How easily we hold on to the small resentments and hurts that our loved ones inadvertently – or intentionally – inflict upon us. And because they are small things, we “don’t bother” addressing the need for forgiveness. “Sue was in such a rush yesterday, she stepped on my foot. And my toe is all black and blue because of it. It hurts.” “I know Bob was joking yesterday, when he made that quip, but because of this other set-back I had, it really cut me to the quick.” “Terry was certainly trying to give me wise advice and counsel. But that one recommendation might as well have been a knife to my heart!” All these things we carry around, never mention to the people involved, and brood over. “How could they not know how badly they wounded me? They don’t really care, that must be it!” 

And so we harbor resentment. We let our sense of injury find a haven in our hearts, and with each little pile of misery, we close the door a crack. We keep the clutter of resentments around, because individually they don’t seem all that big a deal, not realizing that the whole collection is becoming so big that it is shutting the door. 

And God is standing outside that door waiting to come in. 

And then one day, the door is closed, and we look around and wonder where all that light and joy went. How did the door get closed? Where did God go? Why isn’t He here? 

And we start thinking that He is the one who left us. 

The reality is that we let our massive collection of unforgiveness push Him right out the door. We have become hoarders of the emotional garbage of our own lives. 

It isn’t that God won't forgive us if we do not forgive others. It is that He cannot. Forgiveness requires the very touch of His hand on our hearts. It requires His presence inside our hearts. And if we’ve pushed Him outside, leaving Him on our doorstep, what can He do? 

The danger for us is that we can delude ourselves about how connected we are to the Lord. After all, every day, He stands on our doorstep waiting for us. Others go by and say “Oh, look how wonderful! The Lord is at Sam’s house!” We step outside our heart-house and go about our daily business, and the Lord walks with us, and others think it’s wonderful. We’re doing so many of the actions Jesus has told us to do, and obviously He’s at our elbows. But others may not realize that when we go home to live with what is inside our hearts, we haven't made any room for the Lord to actually come in. 

Why do we hold on to this emotional clutter? It tastes bitter and unpleasant. It does not nourish us in any way. It eats away at our energy and joy. So why do we hold onto all the little resentments, angers, and injuries? 

Perhaps because we’re afraid that if we let go of them we will have nothing inside. At least with the resentments we know we are feeling something. If we let go of those, what have we left? 

If we let go of them, if we sweep them out of our hearts, what we have left is a wide, open space in our hearts, in our lives. for God to fill up with Himself. The Glory of God stands at the door of our hearts waiting to come in, if we would just get rid of the junk, if we would just forgive everyone who has trespassed against us.  

What do we get if we forgive others? Oh, nothing more than all of heaven taking up residence inside us. 

All we need to is cast open that door and sweep out the clutter of unforgiveness.

TEMPTATION

 
And do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil. [For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.]
(Matthew 6: 13 – NAS)

 
When I was younger, I would vaguely wonder why the request was “lead us not into temptation.” Why would anyone think that God would lead us to temptation, for isn’t temptation about all those things that we might want but shouldn’t have? God doesn’t deal with us that way, does He? At least, I had not found it to be so.

So why does Jesus include this here, this way?

He certainly knew that we would be tempted by things we met in the world. Relationships we ought not to have, because it would disrupt other sanctified unions. Objects that belong to someone else and we have no rightful claim to possess. Can we really hope to avoid all those things? We’re going to encounter them every day. So how would this work, this not-being-led-to-temptation?

We can quickly dispense with the idea that God would intentionally dangle in front of us those things which could cause us to sin. He does not want us to sin, so why would He even create situations where our weaknesses would allow us to fall into wrong behavior? He just wouldn’t. So Jesus must be looking at something else with this prayer petition.

“Do not lead us into temptation.”

It could be that in this petition we are asking to be led by paths that will not provide those delicious distractions. I’m sure we’ve all wanted occasions where we could just get on moving forward in peace and calm, with nothing that would delay us or distract us from our destination. 

“Make a pathway straight before me. Do not let me be distracted by things I might want.”

Except ... let’s be honest here: we do like the occasional temptation, and we do give into them when they come alongside us. A temptation here, to distract myself from a chore by enjoying “just one” television program. And four hours later, I still haven’t gotten to the chore. A temptation there, to indulge in an excessive meal, because after all, I’m a bit hungry. And four hours later, satiated and drowzy, whatever task was at hand is still sitting there waiting.

There are so many temptations to act inappropriately, that we sometimes forget about the temptations to feel inappropriate reactions. To give into fatigue and frustration and wallow in our helplessness resentfully. And then it becomes inaction that tempts us, to do nothing, to say nothing, to stop moving.

So perhaps it is not such a bad idea to ask Our Father to lead us away from such situations. “Steer us rightly, Lord, so that we may stick to the course we’ve set.” 

The second part of this particular petition seems far more clear. “Deliver us from evil.”

We all call for deliverance at some point or another. Deliver us from joblessness, from debt. Deliver us from this war. Deliver us from this drought. Deliver us from this oppressive situation. “Help me, Lord! I can’t do it myself!” Whether it is a matter of being literally stuck in a whole in the ground and needing help in climbing out of it, or a metaphor for emotional stresses we are enduring, Jesus makes it clear that we have the right and priviledge of calling upon the Lord for help in time of need.

But Jesus is going beyond our simple needs here. He had addressed those with the “daily bread” request, after all. Here He tells us to ask for deliverance from evil. I think this covers not just the consequences of our own poor choices but also the evils that might be directed at us intentionally by others, evils we may have accidentally entered into by whatever means. 

“Deliver us from evil.”

Get us out of the places that will keep us far from You, Lord. Get us out of the circumstances that stand between us and Your love. Gather us from the places of poverty of heart and spirit and deliver us into Your realm of plenty.

Do we really want to stay stuck in our ruts?

I think a lot of times we do not want to look too closely at our circumstances. We’d rather just roll along without disrupting our usual patterns, even if they are not the easiest things in the world. We don’t really want to consider them “evil.” They’re just “difficult.” Because, if we asked God to deliver us from them, we have no idea what He would put us into next. Deliver us from this to what?

Five years I knew I was stuck in a rut, and I couldn’t see a way to get out of it. So I asked God to turn my life upside-down (only requesting that I get to remain in my apartment). Which He promptly proceeded to do – bringing new people into my life to inspire me, preparing me for a change in job and then actually changing that. I was delivered from the old circumstances. Perhaps I have not made the best out of the new circumstances. And I certainly feel in need of deliverance from my current problems. But I want it to be a deliverance of the best sort: debts paid, tasks completed, and then learning the new territory, which (God willing) will be even better. I know that God is mighty to save. I know that He is a strong Deliverer. Yet, I feel I am waiting for it to happen, because I certainly cannot make it happen on my own. And all the while, I hold onto the request that I be delivered from evil. Please, Lord, let no evil thing come near me, and keep me safe.

These are not inappropriate requests for us to make of our Father. We’re not asking for special treatment in this prayer that Jesus taught us. We are asking for God’s love to be poured out upon us in some specific ways that affect our daily lives.

And the reason we can do this is included in the (apparent) interpolation that ends the prayer.

“For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.”

Our Father is the one with the power to make these things happen. It is His realm we are in, after all. But more than that, it is His glory to spread His love over us. We don’t have a remote uncaring divinity watching over us, who may or may not choose to answer our requests. We have a loving Father, who knows our most secret prayers, and brings His power to bear on matters like our daily bread. The creator of the universe, who holds myriad galaxies in His hand, as if they were light playthings, that is who we petition for our small matters. And His glory is that He does not think they are small matters!

Amen.

So be it. We close and affirm and commit ourselves to our prayers. We need to remember that. The words are not rote to God. Our Father treats them as if we really mean them. So we should pay attention to what we are saying. We are asking for these things to be. Let us not be tempted into thinking we are doing anything less than asking the power and majesty of the Creator to enter into our small petitions.

Amen and amen.

DEBTS AND TRESPASSES


And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.
(Matthew 6: 12 – NAS)


When I was young, the church I went to used “trespasses” in the Lord’s Prayer. I did, of course, know of the other translation. It would be one of the things when traveling, when we would visit a church somewhere. Were we to be debtors or trespassers?

I would think about how we see those as two different things, very different it seemed to me. So how was it that whatever the Greek word was at this point would translate acceptably as such different things?

To my young mind, I understood the need for forgiveness of trespasses. That word (and the negative aspect of it) was fairly easy to grasp. “No trespassing” signs were a common plot device in many older cartoons, so even the very young could follow that it meant the you weren’t supposed to intrude on someone else’s territory. From there it was easy enough to extend it outward and see that any act when infringed or damaged someone else’s “territory” whether physical or psychological or spiritual was a trespass of sorts. An injury of sorts.

So it was easy enough to understand the need for forgiveness of trespasses. Especially if you committed the trespass unintentionally.

But debt was a different matter.

A debt, to my youthful mind, was something you owed someone else, usually because they had given you something. So what did it mean to ask that our debts be forgiven?

When you’re young, you think in the most basic terms. In this case, money. Suppose I owed my brother a dollar, if that debt is forgiven, I don’t have to give a dollar back to him.

On the one hand, that seemed like a very desirable thing. Especially if I no longer had a dollar to return to him. I wouldn’t have to worry about his constantly asking for a dollar I no longer had to give him. But on the other hand, it seemed kind of unfair. After all, I had gotten the benefit of the dollar. Didn’t he deserve to be repaid?

Of course, there is a condition on this. “As we forgive those who ....”

Ah, ha! So this isn’t just a blind waving away of all the things we got wrong, intentionally or otherwise.

How well do we forgive others, when they trespass against us, when they are in our debt for any reason?

It’s human nature to remember injuries done to us and debts that are owed us. When we are intruded upon, we feel the damage. When we give out of our means we know we have shortened our own supply in order to benefit someone else. We remember these things because they are significant.

But to forgive them? To set them aside? That’s not so easy.

Most all of us keep a mental ledger of injuries and debts, whether we admit it or not. Quid pro quo, this for that, is a very common factor in life.

At this point, we start to realize what a difficult process forgiveness is. Yes, certainly, we desire to have our own infractions forgiven. To know that we are relieved of the burden of knowing we have injured someone, that is a joyful feeling. But our sense of justice balks at being relieved of our debts to others. We know full well that we have benefited from something given by someone else, something they gave out of their own means. But to be forgiven our debt to that person means it’s likely they will never receive a recompense for what they gave out. That just doesn’t seem right.

The weight of indebtedness can be crippling. So much of our life has been supported by the assistance of others, in so very many ways. From the small debt to the person who made way for us in the grocery line because we were in a rush and they only had one item to the person who helps us out financially in a major emergency. The small debts we accept easily enough. The big ones we often respond to with “You don’t know what this means to me. I can never repay this!” Often when we say that last one, we are talking not about the debt of the actual money, but rather the significance of the help at that moment.

To have debts like that forgiven is to lighten our hearts, to let us accept the gift and bless the giver and move forward without being entangled in trying to balance things out on our own.

But Jesus in instructing us to pray this way is making us equally responsible for how well we extend this grace to others. “As we forgive those who have trespassed against us, as we forgive our debtors.” We are asking to receive just the type of forgiveness we give to others.

Which is where I come to a screeching halt.

So, it is not just about asking to be forgiven for my own mistakes and injuries I have done. It was easy enough to ask for that, for the Lord knows that I’ve made those mistakes and committed those injuries – many inadvertently, but some intentionally. It is about how well I can let go of requiring retribution or restitution for what has been done to me or what I have given others.

That’s not so easy.

“You hurt me.” We want our injuries to be understood and acknowledged. We want the other person to apologize, to ask for forgiveness.

But that’s not what Jesus seems to be supporting here. He doesn’t say “Forgive those who have injured you only when they ask for it.” He’s saying that basically we are to be living in such an attitude that we can forgive even as things happen to us. Pretty much the way God goes about it. In some ways, forgiving injuries can become easy. We can humbly endure the blows of the world, and forgive the striker even as the blows fall.

Forgiving debts as we go along is not as easy. If we loan someone money, on the understanding that it IS a loan, we expect a return on it. That’s reasonable, that’s fair, and when we’re the debtor, we understand that. It’s why we fall into great distress when we cannot repay such a debt. It is fair and right that our benefactor be repaid. When we are the one who has given something out, we expected a return at some point. It takes a lot of strength to let go of that expectation.

When we get beyond mere money matters and into other types of debts, we don’t often pay attention to the fact that we do regard them as debts. “I helped you with that thing, I expect you to return the favor.” That type of thinking lingers in the backs of our minds. Quid pro quo. We want to feel that we got something out of our actions.

“Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.”

Forget about asking for return favors from those you have helped. If they give back, it is grace. But not because of quid pro quo.

That is what Jesus wants us to strive for.

Forgive us as we forgive others.

I know I am in desperate need of forgiveness – we all are. However careful I am, I know it’s possible to do injury to others. There are debts of caring and support and encouragement that I can never repay fully: the givers cannot possibly know how deeply important some small gift was at the moment they gave it. I need forgiveness.

How well do I forgive others? That’s where I trip up. Am I holding on to some unvoiced expectation of recompense for something? Am I harboring the sting of a wound I received? Am I holding on to the memory of something given that went seemingly unacknowledged and never repaid?

Maybe we need to add something here: “Help me to forgive, Lord, because I’m not very good at it.”

Happily, the forgiveness of God is more far-reaching, deeper, all-encompassing than we can possibly imagine. But we still need to learn how to do it ourselves.

DAILY BREAD

Give us this day our daily bread.
(Matthew 6: 11 – NAS)


It’s so simple and straightforward. What more needs to be said?

A lot, actually.

Jesus will have more to say later about how anxious we get about our basic needs, but here He pares it down to the most immediate element.

We need to eat.

And by teaching us to pray for this, Jesus makes it clear that God knows this is necessary to us. Our bodies need sustanence in order to function.

But He also is pointing out that we don’t need a lot to be functional. “Our daily bread.” The basics of what we need to get by. Fuel for energy.

He doesn’t tell us to ask for feasts, for treats, for favorite foods. He tells us to ask for the staples of life, our daily bread.

That’s not to say that He thinks there is anything wrong with feasts or treats. But just that it isn’t what we should be focusing on or spending our precious time asking for.

And it’s our daily bread. Not tomorrow’s bread. Not next week’s bread. Today’s.

I once wrote about this and spent time discussing the length of time required to prepare bread for a day. That usually a household would spend a portion of the day baking and preparing the bread needed for the next day. I observed that for us, that meant that part of today’s job was preparing the basics for the next day.

I’m not going to say I was wrong about that, because often, that is indeed part of what our day ought to be concerned about.

But here and now, I think I will cut even closer to the bone. Jesus says we are to ask for what we need to eat today. And I think He wants us to believe completely that God always responds to this particular part of the prayer.

We tend to hold back when things get tough for us. We keep looking forward to tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. If we are short on money, and don’t know where the next dollar will come from, we start thinking “Well, I don’t need to buy that sandwich today. I had some meat yesterday, and if I don’t think about it, I can get through the day. I’ll drink a lot of water, that’s it. Besides, I need to lose some weight.” So, we don’t eat, because we don’t know if we’ll have money for when we get really, really hungry tomorrow.

“Give us this day our daily bread.”

I’ve been as anxious about tomorrow as anyone. I’ve put off eating today because I didn’t know if I’d be able to get anything tomorrow, and if I could just get through today, that’s one more day along, and I’d be able to get bread tomorrow. I’ve been acting as if my prayer was “Get me through today, Lord, so I can get bread tomorrow.”

The Lord wants us to pay attention to the here and now. We have no guarantee about “tomorrow.” The world could break apart in the next hour. There is only this moment, and God is in this moment with us.

We need to eat.

“Give me this day the daily bread I need.”

Not what I want, what I need. What I want would be a nice slab of fresh prime rib beef, with horseradish, mashed potatoes with a touch of garlic served with butter, fresh green peas still firm, a salad of greens and other garnishes with juicy sliced tomatoes with a Thousand Island dressing. That’s what I want. What I need is some protein and energy, maybe in the form of scrambled eggs on toast, maybe some liquid yoghurt.

Daily bread.

We’re not being presumptuous to ask for basic food needs. We are not being frivolous with money when we buy the sandwich we need right now instead of paying some bill.

God knows what we need. He knows our prayers before we lift them up. What He loves is that we come to Him in our need. But He wants us to stay focused on the immediate. It’s not “Stock my cupboard with all of this week’s meals.” It’s not “Make sure there is always something in the cupboard, just in case.” It is “Give us this day our daily bread.”

Here. Now. What we need.

I admit it. I find it hard some times to stay in that middle ground. I either want my kitchen so stocked up that I have a multitude of choices about what to eat, or I start holding onto the pennies so tightly I start thinking “I only have X amount of dollars. If I don’t eat today, I can go buy foodstuff tomorrow and I’ll be one day further along.” On that second option ... just how foolish can I be? If I don’t eat today when I am hungry, I spend the day hungry and not as well focused on the work that is immediately in front of me. I won’t be any better tomorrow. On top of that, having not eaten today, when I go to the store tomorrow, I will be shopping hungry, and thus inclined to spend more on edibles that are less than necessary.

We need to trust the Lord when we pray this. And act as if we really believe that He will provide for our daily needs, no matter what.

It’s easy enough to do when we are prospering in even very modest ways. We give thanks over our food and roll onward. The challenge is when supplies are short, for whatever reason.

“Give me this day my daily bread.”

And the Lord provides.