A sermon on Matthew 6: 24-34 by Nathan Nettleton

The earthquake tragedy in Christchurch, New Zealand, this week has rocked our world both literally and figuratively. A beautiful city has been destroyed and the death toll is yet unknown but will probably end up somewhere around 300. Anglicans, Catholics and Baptists are all touched by the loss of some of their most beautiful church buildings. The Oxford Terrace Baptist Church appeared as a pile of rubble in the newspaper the other day, but it was previously one of the most beautiful Baptist worship places in the world. But it the human cost is far greater than any building. Several of us have friends and relatives in the midst of it. Ian and Eliz have a son who was supposed to be in Christchurch that day, but due to a dodgy hotel booking ended up elsewhere. Jill Edwards has relatives in Christchurch. Fortunately all are safe. Most of my extended family are in Christchurch because it is my parents’ home town, and fortunately all are safe. But there were many close calls. One of my cousins had just walked out of a shop when the wall crashed down behind him and another landed on a bus just near him. And Ian had connections with the six pipe organ enthusiasts who were dismantling an organ in a church that was condemned after the September quake when this one struck, finishing the building off and killing three of the six; one of whom was coincidentally the brother-in-law of a friend of mine. Paul has lived there and has work colleagues there, and no doubt others of you have connections that I haven’t heard about yet.

And then, in the midst of our grappling with the enormity and tragedy we face today’s scripture readings. Somehow Isaiah’s promise that God will “turn the mountains into a road, and the highways shall be raised up” doesn’t seem the comforting image it was originally meant as. Mountains coming down and roads rearing up are rather too terrifyingly real. And the gospel reading, at first glance, may be even worse. Jesus says, “I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink… Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?”

Do not worry?! What do you mean, do not worry?! The heavenly father might be feeding the birds of the air, but there are slabs of concrete falling down on top of people, and “do not worry because you are of more value than the birds” is not going to get them out. “Do not worry about what you will eat or what you will drink” seems easy enough most of the time, but try it on for size in Christchurch at the moment. 62,000 homes there currently have no water supplies. Do not worry about what you will drink?! Most of the power is now back on, but there will be no workable sewerage system for much of the city for a long time yet, and hundreds of people can do nothing but watch as their houses are flattened by demolition equipment because they are so badly damaged that it is unsafe to leave them standing. I think we know that if we were in their shoes, we’d be less than impressed by anyone who came along saying, “Do not worry; God provides everything you need.” It sure doesn’t feel like it when the world is caving in around your ears – literally.

So what on earth are we supposed to take away with us from these words of Jesus’ on a week like this? Does the earthquake show them up to be pious nonsense, or is there something of value here, even in times of disaster when worries about food and drink and shelter are very pressing and real? Let me suggest three things that I think could still be said without shame in the midst of the earthquake.

Number one. Heard from a different angle, these words make complete sense in the midst of the disaster zone. You see, the words are probably not supposed to be addressed to people who are unlikely to have anything to eat or drink or wear. Rather they are addressing those of us who think that having the right clothes to wear or being seen in the right restaurants or drinking something with the coolest label is what really matters, and that life would be reduced to rubble if you made a fashion faux pas. And if there is one thing that major disasters and tragedies do, it is to put such things back into perspective and make us aware of what really matters. This week at least, the people of Christchurch are not much concerned with who has been seen in the latest designer labels and who has been spotted in the latest “it” venue. Life and death and the safety of loved ones and rescuing any possible survivors is what matters. And whenever life is thrown back into proper perspective by such things, the challenge that Jesus puts to us is to hang on to that and live our whole lives out of that perspective. Perhaps in our desire to get things back to normal, we should stop to ask what aspects of normal would be better off not being reinstated, starting with a preoccupation with the external material realities of our lives: clothing styles and fine dining and whether your carpet really goes with your curtains.

Number two. Jesus is not saying that you are a sinner if you get worried about things that are genuinely terrifying. He is not saying that worry is a sin. He is saying that it is usually useless. Nothing ever got fixed by worrying. As Jesus puts it, “Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?” You might be able to add to the span of your life by taking some sort of action, by making some changes to your lifestyle or something, but worrying more is not a healthy lifestyle choice. And in Christchurch, worrying does not lift a concrete slab or bind a wound or stabilise a leaning building. Worry doesn’t fix anything, and often it actually paralyses us and reduces our capacity to do anything of value. This, I think, is what Jesus is getting at when he says, “So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” In other words, don’t let anxiety about what might happen tomorrow or even in an hour’s time stop you from doing anything of value today. In the immediate crisis of a disaster, people often heed these words instinctively. They say afterwards, “I just did what I knew needed to be done,” when in fact what they did was risk their own lives to save others by climbing into the wreckage to rescue someone without worrying about whether there might be an explosion or another shock that would get them too. Tomorrow, or even ten minutes time will bring worries enough of its own, so they just responded to the need that was right before them right now. Worrying instead of acting might be able to be passed off as responsible planning, but often it is just a cover for cowardice and self-preoccupation. If you are someone who can’t live in the now because you are alway busy making contingency plans for everything that could conceivably go wrong, then Jesus is speaking to you: “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”

And number three. You are not in control, and if you are worrying about trying to be, then you are probably just getting in the way. If nothing else can remind you that you are not in control, then an earthquake should do it. Unlike cyclones and floods and even bush fires you don’t get days or hours or even minutes of warning. You can’t control them, and you can’t even ready yourself for any particular impending one. And more importantly, in the aftermath, we need to all be on the same team. Nothing stuffs up a disaster response more thoroughly than competition between the key leaders over who is in control of the response. As soon as there are egos and individual agendas getting caught up in the mix, we start making a mess of everything. And that is where Jesus started the comments we heard from him in today’s reading. “No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other.”

You are either for the advancement of the culture of God or you are for the advancement of your own interests. You are either for the common good, or you are for getting yourself to the top. You can’t play on two teams, because their interests are opposed to each other. And at a time like this when the need for everyone to commit themselves wholeheartedly to the common good is so inescapably clear, the selfishness and nastiness of those whose real interests are about getting one up on everyone else are laid bare for all to see. This is the same thing the Apostle Paul has been talking about in the extracts we’ve been hearing from his Corinthian correspondence over the last few weeks. People are dividing up and competing for status and control and recognition, and Paul has been calling them to realise they are all on the one team. And today he tells us to forget about judging whether this one or that one is measuring up to expectations because the race has a long way yet to run and the judgements are only made at the end. “I do not even judge myself,” he says. Just get on with doing what you are supposed to do now, and let others do likewise, and don’t try to one-up yourself or put anyone else down. “Tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”

Sisters and brothers, it does feel a lot like the earth is coming apart at the seams at present, with earthquakes, floods and cyclones coming in rapid succession all around us, but the God who is known to us in a suffering man crushed by the weight of the world’s hostility and bitterness remains with us in faithful solidarity with all we are facing. His call to not worry is not a naive bit of piety, but a very realistic call to do what we need to do, moment by moment, and avoid getting caught up in power trips and useless anxiety. The first thing, and sometimes the only thing we can do is pray, and we will be doing that in a minute. And then around the table we will gather as Jesus offers himself to us, and we will hear the call to offer ourselves in return. There is no ego, no anxiety, no power trip here. Just a call to offer ourselves, and to be bearers of life for the world, in whatever situations the world throws at us minute by minute, in good times and bad. Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all good things will be given to you as well.