"Five Minute Rule: Do not fret": Sermon for Sunday 24 February 2019
Sermon for Sunday 24 February 2019
Lutheran Church of the Redeemer,
Jerusalem
The Rev. Carrie Ballenger
Grace and peace to you from God our
Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Sunset near Jaffa, Saturday 23 February 2019 |
In my house,
we have a code of behavior called the “Five Minute Rule.” This is different from
the Ten Second Rule, which says you can still eat a cookie that’s been dropped
on the floor, as long as it’s been down there less than 10 seconds. (Or
sometimes longer, if it’s the last cookie and the floor has been cleaned
recently…) Amen?
The Five
Minute Rule, however, isn’t about food. It’s about what to do about those
obsessive, repetitive conversations that can happen when you gather with family
and friends. In my house, when we find ourselves sitting at the table after
supper and that person’s name has come up again, or that situation
is being discussed for the umpteenth time, then it’s someone’s job to say, “Five
Minute Rule!” We can allow exactly five more minutes to dwell on that person or
thing, and then we need to move on.
It’s not
that one shouldn’t ever discuss things more than once, or for more than five
minutes. It’s just that there are certain people and situations that always seem
to demand our brain space and our attention. “Did you hear what she said today?
Can you believe what he tweeted this time? What are we going to do? What
should I say?” The Five Minute Rule is one way of taking some power away from these
attention-grabbing, joy-sucking topics. Anyway, after five minutes, these
conversations usually stop being productive and start being merely—fretful.
Speaking of which,
this morning’s psalm begins with the strong admonition “Do not fret”. Three times
in just nine verses of Psalm 37, the psalmist says :“Do not fret”:
Do not
fret because of the
wicked; do not be envious of wrongdoers,
for they
will soon fade like the grass, and wither like the green herb.
Do not
fret over those who
prosper in their way, over those who carry out evil devices.
Do not fret—it leads only to evil.
Of course, there are many other places
in the Bible where we are admonished not to worry:
Luke 12:25: “Who of you by worrying
can add a single hour to your life?”
Matthew 6:25: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you
will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.”
Philippians 4:6-7: “Do not worry about anything, but in
everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be
made known to God. And the peace
of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your
minds in Christ Jesus.”
The Bible’s message is clear: Worry does nothing for us.
Worry can only take away time for joy, time for love, time with friends and family,
time for the important work of building up the kingdom of God.
But in Psalm 37, I think the message is more specific. It’s
not just “do not worry.” It’s do not fret—do not be constantly anxious. Do
not live in a state of worry.
And even more specifically: “Do not fret about the evil
in the world.”
I must say, I find this to be very challenging.
There’s a lot to fret about these days! For sure I’ve spent way
more than five minutes fretting about what’s going on in my home country, the
United States. I fret about the prospect of a wall being built there that might
resemble the one we have here in Israel and Palestine. I fret about civil
rights being taken away. I fret about the environment, and about what kind of future
my children will have if we don’t make some real changes. I fret about the rise
of extremist ideologies, of racism, of homophobia, of a general xenophobia—the fear
of those who are different in any way.
In fact, it would take longer than five minutes just to list
the powers and principalities I fret about, which oppose the Gospel of Love! One
of my favorite mystics, Julian of Norwich, famously wrote “All will be well,
all will be well, and all manner of things will be well” and yet it’s obvious
to anyone that all is not well. All is not well in the United States, in
Venezuela, in Yemen, in Syria, in Palestine and Israel. All s not well in my life, and probably not in yours.
And still, the psalmist sings: “Do not fret because of
the wicked; do not be envious of wrongdoers, for they will soon fade like the
grass, and wither like the green herb.”
In other words: Don’t let the
actions of others consume your conversations or steal your joy. The wicked may
seem powerful today, but tomorrow the fruits of their labors will be dried up,
faded, insignificant, a footnote in history.
Now seems a good enough time to quote again novelist
Margaret Atwood, who wrote in her book “The Handmaid’s Tale”: Nolite te
bastardes caborundorum. Don’t let the bastards grind you down! Amen!
So…we shall not fret.
But what shall we do instead? What do we do after the Five
Minute Rule is up?
The psalmist answers: Trust, don’t fret. God’s got this.
But I wonder:
Does trusting the Lord mean we can read the news for five
minutes and then simply turn it off?
Does trust mean turning a blind eye to the problems of the
world?
Does trust mean putting on a happy face and pretending everything’s
fine, when it’s really not?
Some folks do often interpret “Trust the Lord” to mean this
kind of passive response to wickedness, evil, or injustice. I see this happen a
lot in relation to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I can’t count the number
of times I’ve spoken to church groups about how the ongoing occupation affects Christians
in the Holy Land, and about how Israelis and Palestinians alike will continue
to suffer until we find a peaceful solution, only to be met with hands in the
air and the phrase, “Well, you know nothing will be solved over there until
Jesus comes back.”
Let me tell you, I have far fewer than five minutes to give
to that kind of nonsense.
Trusting in the Lord is not the same as sitting on our hands
until Jesus comes back.
In Luke’s Gospel today, we encounter Jesus giving his Sermon
on the Plain, in which he tells us exactly what “Trust, don’t fret” looks like.
At the beginning of Luke chapter 6, we read:
(Jesus) came down with them and stood on a level
place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from
all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. They had come to hear
him and to be healed of their diseases.
(In other words—these were people with a lot to fret about.)
And Jesus said to them:
Love your enemies.
Do good to those who hate you.
Bless those who curse you.
Pray for those who abuse you.
Turn the other cheek.
Give to everyone who asks.
Be merciful.
Forgive.
Don’t fret! Follow me. Trust me.
To be clear: The kind of trust Jesus asks of us is not a
feeling.
It’s not passive. It’s active. Trusting the Lord looks like something.
It looks like blessing and praying and giving and forgiving. It
looks like resisting the paradigms of the powerful and the ways of the wicked. It
looks like refusing to live in a constant state of anxiety or fear of the other.
It looks like love.
It looks like love of even the enemy,
And it looks like a love that took Jesus (and will take us)
all the way to the cross.
Dear people, I know there is so much to fret about today. All is not well in the
world, or in our lives!
But all will be well. As followers of the Crucified
and Risen Christ, our actions are never determined by only the evidence we see
today, or made in response to the ways of the wicked. As witnesses to the
resurrection, we know that Good Friday is not the end of the story.
Thereofore we can trust and not fret, we can act boldly and without
fear, not because we are so good or because it’s so easy, but because God is
so faithful.
We can love and bless and forgive and show mercy and give
without expecting anything in return
—Instead of fretting, or fighting, or building walls--
Because Christ is raised from the dead, and we are raised with
him.
The God who created the heavens and the earth,
Who spoke through the prophets,
Who strengthened and inspired our ancestors in the faith,
Who has calmed the storms in our lives and brought joy in the morning,
The One who raised Jesus from the tomb...
This same One will surely bring down the wall,
And heal our broken hearts,
And show us the way forward.
God did not bring us this far to leave us now! Amen!
it is difficult for me to Trust our Savior...my trust has been broken so many times...I cannot even trust myself. But I'm 65 1/2 and learning to Trust God...He is my Hope and My Salvation...in Him I will Trust. he is Faithful and Good. Shalom.
ReplyDeleteTrust is indeed difficult! Sometimes I think we have to allow others to walk alongside us and trust/believe/sing for us and with us. God be with you!
DeleteHi Pastor Carrie, this message was especially meaningful to me today. Thank you for posting these. I miss hearing your sermons in church. --Virginia
ReplyDeleteThanks Virginia! We miss you here!
Delete