Grace to you and peace from God our
Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
There
are so many things that make us anxious these days. Psychiatry.org cites a June
2022 poll showing that 79% of Americans said they were anxious about inflation,
68% about gun violence, and 63% about the Russia-Ukraine War. About half of
those polled also indicated anxiety about climate change, COVID-19, and the
midterm elections.[1] It’s not hard to add to the list. We’re
anxious about things outside of us: China’s saber rattling over Taiwan, our
jobs, the price of groceries and fuel, whether or not we can afford to carry
our herd another month. We’re anxious about things inside us: our blood
pressure, some recent tests the doctor ordered “just to check some things out,”
and why we can’t sleep at night. We’re anxious for things around us: our
personal relationships, our kids and for our parents, for the first day of
school, and even about what’s for dinner.
Anxiety
is the mind and body's reaction to stressful, dangerous, or unfamiliar
situations. It causes a sense of unease, distress or dread. Anxiety is a sign
of the times and a hallmark of our culture. While all of us experience small
doses of anxiety now and then, millions of Americans suffer from anxiety disorders
that cause problems in their ability to function on a daily basis.
There
is much that can modern medicine can do to help someone suffering from anxiety,
and if you are one of the estimated 40 million Americans who struggle with it,
please know three things: one, I along with others in this sanctuary empathize
with you because we have been there or even are there ourselves; two, as you
would treat a broken body by seeing a medical doctor, do not hesitate to see a
mental health professional to get help for mental and emotional needs; three,
if the prospect of getting help scares you, I will gladly go with you to find
help. You are not alone. Do not let that anxiety about being anxious drive you
to do anything that you cannot undo.
Medicine
and psychology and psychiatry are great tools and gifts God has given to us.
The doctors prescribe medications. Therapists listen and provide coping
strategies. But there is one aspect of anxiety that doctors usually miss. They
can't speak to the soul.
Theologically
speaking, spiritually speaking, pastorally speaking, anxiety is our offering to
the false gods of the world to try to keep what we have or gain what we don’t.
There is an entire pantheon of them, too. No – they aren’t small statues made
of stone or wood. Most don’t have faces. These are the gods – lowercase g – the
idols of health, wealth, happiness, self-identity, self-worth, physical
security, property, career, education, job. There are more, of course; the list
is almost endless. And there’s the god of ourselves. If we can worry enough,
fuss enough, hand-wring enough, it’ll all work out. Anxiety is faith that is
inverted. If faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of
things not seen, if Christian faith is grounded in Christ, then anxiety flips
it all upside down. Anxiety fools us to think that the unholy trinity of me,
myself, and I can save wealth, get healthy, protect against all possible
threats, be popular and smart without being arrogant or smug, and perfectly
balance home, work, school, the kids, the spouse, and our own mental health and
well-being. The anxiety slowly consumes. I think I
can! I think I can. I think I can? By way of
analogy, anxiety is to the conscience and soul what cancer is to the body: it
keeps gobbling up until it overwhelms and drives us to despair.
So,
when Jesus said, “Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, or
about your body, what you will put on. For life is more than food and the body
more than clothing,” it makes us pause and wonder how on earth we're supposed
to not be anxious when all of these things are going on around us.
It
might seem odd that Jesus points us to the birds and the flowers as examples of
how not to be anxious. After all, birds don’t have mortgages on their homes and
notes on their cars and new schools to attend. Flowers don’t need air
conditioners fixed and new clothes for school and blood pressure reduced. They
aren’t worried about the economy or the possibility of war or Avian flu or root
rot. Their lives, their existence is so simple because they have nothing except
what God provides them. Their very existence, from what and where they eat and
drink to where they live, is all under the merciful and watchful eye of God who
cares for them.
That
is Jesus’ very point. Its an argument from lesser to greater: if it’s
true for this, then it’s even more true for that. If God cares for lilies and
sunflowers, bluebonnets and Indian blankets; if God cares for ravens and crows,
for dove and quail, then how much more will God care for you whom He speaks of
as His little flock, the sheep for whom Jesus stands as Good Shepherd.
Little
flock…That’s shepherd talk. That’s Good Shepherd talk. This is Jesus talking -
not a doctor, a therapist, a barber, a hairdresser, a bartender or any other
person you pour your anxiousness out to. This is Jesus, and He is speaking of
His Father’s flock. He is speaking of you. Sheep are always calm when
they are in the presence of their shepherd. They know his voice, his hands, his
calming presence. So, dear little flock, listen to the voice of the Good
Shepherd. When He says “Do not be anxious,” heed His words. After all, He knows
full well what it is to have nothing – not even a place to lay his head. He
knows what it is to face uncertainty, hunger, the loss of a friend. He knows
what it is to face death, both of others and His own. He knows what it is to be
completely alone. He knows what it is to be mocked, betrayed and hated to
death. He knows what it is to be surrounded by the silence of God, who doesn’t
seem to answer His cries of agony while sweat and blood dripped from His body.
Instead of anxiety, Jesus trusts His Father so deeply, that whether hungry and
alone against the devil, or thirsty and alone suspended on the cross, He is
able to commend Himself to the Father’s perfect will, the Shepherd who will die
to rescue and save the sheep from their anxieties.
I
want you to know, I am preaching to myself today - not just you. I have a
couple of things that really make me anxious and two in particular. No, I won’t
tell you what they are. But, I will say that when it kicks in, boy is it a
doozie. Anxiety turns me into a hand-wringing, chin-rubbing,
do-it-myself-er. One of my favorite BIble verses is 1 Peter 5:7, “Cast all your
anxieties on Him, because He cares for you.” It’s the exact, same word Jesus
uses: do not be anxious; instead, cast the anxieties upon Jesus. He has taken
them from you, placed them on HIs back and took them to the cross. He bled for
them. He died for them. He drug them with Him to the tomb. And He did not bring
them back to life with Him on Easter morning. You have been baptized into His
death. Your anxious, Old Adam and anxious Old Eve also died with Jesus. Leave
them in the tomb. Leave them in the font. If Anxious Adam and Anxious Eve try
to bob their anxious selves to the surface again, repent and drown them again
with Christ. Faith clings to Jesus, and when hands are full of the cross, when
they are full of the Savior’s robes, there is no room for anxiety or the things
that we are anxious about.
And,
remember, if you see your doctor or a therapist for anxiety, please don’t
forget your pastor - not because he's nosey, an emotional voyeur, but because he’s the undershepherd
to the Good Shepherd. Your pastor walks with you in the darkness. He hears your
confession, of the things that make you anxious, of the things you try to
control, of the things that try to control you. And, unless you’re a danger to
yourself or a loved one, he cannot tell anyone. It dies with him, too. What
your pastor will do is hear and absolve and bless in the name of the Good
Shepherd and with His words of grace, mercy and compassion.
Whether
you experience that momentary jolt of anxiety or you deal with it as a daily
grind, I want you to notice this: Jesus doesn’t rebuke you. He doesn’t scold you.
He doesn’t guilt or shame you that you are “less-than” because of anxiety. He
simply says, “Do not be anxious. Instead, cast it on me. I’ve already taken it
from you. Trust me. Stop trying to take it back. Stop trying to put me out of a
job as your Savior and do it yourself. Rather than wringing your hands or
rubbing your chin or running your hands through your hair, fold your hands in
repentance and then open them in faith at the Table this morning. To you, Jesus
says “Take and eat; take and drink. Your anxiety is taken and my Body and Blood
is given. Be at peace and be anxious no more.” And in that moment, the Good Shepherd
fills your hands with His grace, mercy, and love without end.
[1]
https://www.psychiatry.org/news-room/news-releases/apa-summer-poll-june-2022
No comments:
Post a Comment