Trust God ,anxiety, self confidence

Most of us carry our share of anxiety regarding the future. We come to the church with the expectation that burdens may be lifted and worries dissipated here. A certain church bulletin board attempted to address this reality, but inadvertently failed with this placarded message: "Don't let worry kill you off; let the church help."

We often enter the church with our fears racing ahead of us. We develop a new pain in the back when we contemplate the impending computer glitch of the year 2000. We encounter a digestive problem when we discover having more month than money in your checking account. Angst inhabits the pew when many of us contemplate the prospects of our health or financial security.

Soren Kierkegaard issued some of his most penetrating analysis of the Christian faith through parables. One such story introduces our imagination to a wild stock-dove who became acquainted with two tame doves that were sitting upon the ridge of a farmer's barn. The stock-dove announced to his new acquaintances, "So far, I have had my living; I let each day have its own worry and in that way I get through the world." The tame doves immediately expressed their superiority, insisting that they not only made provision for today, but they also planned for their future security. They reported that the farmer always provided for far more than their immediate necessities. Because of the farmer's granary, they did not live with constant uncertainty. To the surprise of the stock-dove, the tame birds were able to accumulate for the future. They never suffered from lack of food. These tame doves, however, had begun to think all the time about the future. They constantly calculated their anticipated needs. The stock-dove had never previously entertained such thoughts. The tame ones, therefore, had no peace of mind. Their obsession with the future prompted an ever-present anxiety.

Concern about the future eventually began to infiltrate the mind of the wild stock-dove. His feathers began to lose their sheen. Even his flight became devoid of ease. Each day this pitiful creature found plenty of food. But, for the first time, plenty was never enough. Because of the fear of future scarcity, the stock-dove denied himself the joys of the present moment. He, consequently, went hungry. In his anxiety about survival in the natural world, he made his home in the barn with the tame doves. When the farmer discovered the strange fowl in his barn, he trapped it in a box and made a meal for himself!

Kierkegaard made this poignant appraisal of the parable:

"The richest man who ever lived, if he forgets God, and believes that he supports himself by his labor, has financial anxieties . . . . To be dependent on (our) own wealth, that is dependence and heavy bondage; to be dependent on God, absolutely dependent, that is independence . . . . Dependence on God is the only independence . . .

This theological insight brings us to the core of Jesus' own teachings. Our Lord conveyed his most elevated thoughts through the simplicity of parables. As a preface to his teaching about anxiety, Jesus related the story of a certain wealthy farmer. His production had become so abundant that he had no place to store his harvest. Thus, he decided to pull down his inadequate storage bins and construct larger ones. His decision proved to be a terrible investment; for that very night God, the giver of life, required the termination of his life.

Jesus did not create in this parable a foil or a debauched character. This is not a cheap shot. The farmer had not become wealthy through unjust gain. In point of fact, the parable does not condemn the man because of his wealth. He is not depicted as a person with an insatiable desire to produce more wealth. He has done the rational, businesslike thing by expanding his production capacity. Like any good Hebrew, he merely has followed the philosophy of Ecclesiastes. After all, this author of Hebrew wisdom had counselled, ‘So I commend enjoyment, for there is nothing better for people under the sun than to eat, drink, and enjoy themselves, for this will go with them in their toil through the days of life that God gives them under the sun.’

Frankly, this is the morality parable we like to conjure into memory upon the death of some detestable spinster. As the hearse makes its way toward the cemetery carrying the decaying remains of an Aristotle Onassis or Howard Hughes, this parable protrudes into memory. Such moralistic reductionism tends to get us off the hook. We find solace in applying the parable to the super wealthy and never unto ourselves.

But the text suggests that this story was told to the multitudes of Galilee, most of whom were far from wealthy. It is a prophetic parable for each of us to hear anew, especially this pastor who has so recently moved into a new parish and discovered that three-fourths of the things loaded on the moving van are unnecessary acquisitions. This parable haunts us today as we enter the first phase of our Providence Church stewardship campaign.

The parable speaks a prophetic word to those of us who fret anxiously about our financial future and watch the Dow Jones Industrial Averages as if this indicator discloses our personal cardiogram. This story reminds us of the fact that our possessions are not our life. This parable soberly brings to our awareness that only God holds our future, and our relationship with God is the only real possession that matters.

This unusual story is contained in Luke, but not the other three canonical gospels. It is, however, repeated in a slightly different form in the Gnostic Gospel of Thomas. Here the farmer contemplates his investments. But that very night he dies. Jesus allows the parable to speak for itself, concluding, ‘Whoever has ears ought to listen.’

But we fail truly to listen. We fret constantly in the present moment, worrying about some imaginary future, rather than trusting in the future God has promised the faithful.

One of the most tragic lines spoken on the American stage occurs in an Arthur Miller masterpiece during the final scene in which Linda Lowman has just experienced her husband’s funeral. She stands alone over his grave, talking to his imaginary presence: ‘Help me, Willy, I can’t cry. It seems to me that you’re just on another trip. I keep expecting you . . . . I search and I can’t understand it Willy. I made the last payment on the house today. Today dear. And there’ll be nobody home.’

A comparable moment occurred the night I made a certain pastoral visit. The house was easily the most palatial in the entire parish. It was enormous and exquisitely furnished. The children, however, were now grown. A lodging for two had, that week, become a lonely chamber housing but one. She had filed for divorce after twenty-five years of marriage. He wept as he spoke of achieving the obsession of his life -- a perfect house. Then he laconically observed, "I have the home of my dreams and no one to come home to."

Jesus’ parable is a graceful reminder that it is not too late for us to put our house in order. The story reaches out with tentacles to embrace. It challenges us to deal with our attitude toward our possessions and to make peace with our fear of the future. It is the sort of biblical teaching which surely invited the reflections of Elizabeth Chaney when she wrote,

Said the Robin to the Sparrow:

'I should really like to know

Why these anxious human beings

Rush about and worry so.'

Said the Sparrow to the Robin:

'Friend, I think that it must be

That they have no heavenly Father

Such as cares for you and me.'

John Wesley always considered scripture, not some prevailing philosophy, to be his authority for living. It should be no surprise that, when he read the economic theories of his contemporary Adam Smith, he was skeptical. He warned against the callous potential of this new philosophy -- capitalism. Then he offered to Methodists a biblically based alternative. The frugal Wesley, who could perhaps get more out of a shekel than any man alive, pronounced this oft-quoted dictum: "Gain all you can; save all you can; give all you can." Most of us modern Wesleyans have no trouble with the first injunction. We agree with the second piece of advice, even though we Americans collectively are the least effective in saving money among all the peoples of the industrialized world. But the third Wesleyan principle has become sticky for us. "Give all I can" is a challenge many of us are hardly prepared to follow. Wesley's economics suggest that, for the Christian, the acquisition of money is for the purpose of glorifying God. Thus, we give thanks by giving. We invest in order to create fruitful, adequately salaried jobs for others. We save money in order to give it away. Every legal document entitled "Last will and testament" is a theological statement. A will is a mirror unto one's very soul. It is our spiritual autobiography. Wesley was consistent in combining theory with practice. He once wrote, "Whosoever has food to eat, and raiment to put on, with something over is rich."

The revered Rabbi Abraham Heschel often described biblical hope as the activity of living the future in the present tense. When we entrust the future to God’s care, we live fully into the present moment. We assume that God’s kingdom will ultimately prevail. God’s people, therefore, are a colony of believers who live in the present moment as if God’s future had already arrived.

This is precisely what we demonstrate when we pledge our support of prayers, presence, gifts and service to the ministries of Providence Church. By giving generously, we live God’s future in the present moment. We participate in the values of the Kingdom before that kingdom is fully realized. We trust in the power of God to bring about the triumph of love, reconciliation, peace, and justice. We begin to realize that we can lay up for ourselves treasures in heaven. We no longer merely invest in Wall Street ‘futures’; we invest in God’s future.

There is a story emerging from the Middle Ages regarding a court jester in the palace of a nobleman. This royal lord presented the jester with a jeweled staff and asked him to keep it until he should meet any person who was a greater fool than himself. The jester became a protective steward of the nobleman's staff.

Years later his master was approaching death. Among those who were called to his bedside was the jester who inquired, "If you are to die, what provision have you made for your entertainment where you are going?" The nobleman replied, "None at all." To which the jester exclaimed, "Here then, take my staff, for with all my folly I am not guilty of any such folly as this."

We need not be so foolish. The parable of Jesus invites us to live now in God’s coming future. We can now invest in God’s Kingdom. We can live into God’s future through the peace of this eternal now. We can participate in the joy of living by giving. This is our only sure, reliable investment. The dividends are guaranteed. And the benefits are out of this world!

Prayer:

God, the giver of abundant life, whose providence fills our pockets overflowing with grace and whose Spirit enriches our souls beyond description: Grant us the insight to make a wise investment in your future through a life style of compassion and self-giving love, through following in the way of Jesus who has shared his riches abundantly with us all. Amen.

2. Ecclesiastes 8:15 NRSV

3. Edward Schweizer, The Good News According to Luke, translated by David E. Green (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1984), p. 207.

4. The Gospel of Thomas , contained in The Secret Teachings of Jesus: Four Gnostic Gospels , translated by Marvin W. Meyer (New York: Vantage Books, A Division of Random House, 1986), saying 63, contained on page 30.

5. Arthur Miller, Death of a Salesman (New York: The Viking Press, 1962), p. 139.

6. Elizabeth Chaney, "Overheard in an Orchard."

7. Cited by Charles Wallace, "Simple and Recollected: John Wesley's Life-style," Religion in Life (Summer, 1977), p. 207-8.

8. Everett G. Lemeron, "Five Follies of the Foolish Farmer," Pulpit Digest (November - December, 1976), pp. 61-62