Ash
Wednesday, February 26, 2020
Reading an email
correspondence recently, I noted that the sender put “Matthew 6:27” underneath
his signature. I don’t really know this
person other than that we are a part of the same email group. I had received several messages from him, and
as I looked back, I realized, he always signs that way. His name, and then Matthew 6:27.
So, I reached out to him
just say, ‘Hey, I didn’t realize you were a Christian. I think it is really great that you sign your
messages that way.’ He hasn’t responded
to my overture. Like I said, I don’t
really know him.
Jesus is speaking. Matthew 6 is the middle of his Sermon on the
Mount. In verse 27 he asks, “Can any of
you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” Of course, this jumped out at me because of
the spiritual discipline I committed to uphold for Lent 2020. Through prayer, time in worship, and daily
practice, my 2020 Lenten spiritual discipline is to renounce worry. Jesus says in verse 25, “I tell you, do not
worry about your life.” I want to do my
best to follow that command literally.
I wrote this in my February 2020 church newsletter
article. Typically, we don’t broadcast
our spiritual disciplines for the world to see.
In Matthew 6, verses 3, 6, and 18, Jesus warns against announcing when
we give to the poor or pray or fast as spiritual disciplines. We most certainly should do these things, but
Jesus encourages us to practice these disciplines in secret, for God’s eyes,
not to gain spiritual credit in the eyes of others. Spiritual disciplines should never be cases
of “look-at-me.” Our spiritual
disciplines should draw us closer to God.
So, why do I announce mine every year? I do it in my role as pastor. I hope church members will follow my
example. I don’t mean each person needs
to practice the disciplines I’ve committed to.
Rather, I encourage each Christian who would follow Christ to follow my
example by undertaking spiritual disciplines that will specifically help him or
her grow in Christ. Maybe for you it is
a practice you need to spend more time on - service or prayer. Or, maybe for someone else, it is giving more
money, so that you discover God is who ensures your life, not your bank
account. For another, it might be fasting,
so that we discover God fills us and we crave him more than satiating our appetites.
For me, the discipline this year is to renounce worry
as an act of faith, a pathway to joy, and a step of obedience. Why this rather unconventional discipline?
Without going into too many details or rehashing
stories told too many times, 2017-2019 have been difficult years for me. Each year ended with me thinking, “Whew, I’m
glad that’s over,” only to be greeted by more severe challenges at the very
start of the new year. I’ve come to
dread what the next January might bring.
Followers of Jesus are not to live in dread. We are called to joy.
Each of the past three years included many nights with
me wide awake at 2, 3, 4AM. Sometimes, I
could name the weighty issues that drove sleep from me. I tried reading, praying, playing online
chess with people halfway around the world.
Often, I just ended up brooding until daylight and then plowing through
the next day. Other sleepless nights, I
could not name the demon that wouldn’t allow me rest. I simply sat with the foreboding hanging over
me. Followers of Jesus should be able to
rest secure in his arms. He modeled
this, sleeping soundly as the boat he and the disciples were in was tossed
about by angry waves.
Reflecting upon how much the stresses of pastoring and
parenting repeatedly shook my sense of wellbeing, it became clear, I was not
setting a good example to my church family.
We know the world is drowning in sin and bound for death. Why would we be surprised when things get
tough and life is a struggle? Part of my
responsibility is to help us, God’s family, see God in the midst of the
storm. The challenges of 2017, ‘18, and
‘19 may subside or be overcome, but this new year will provide obstacles of its
own, and when we overcome them, 2021 looms.
Joy doesn’t come when the problems go away. Joy comes when we set our eyes on Jesus even
as we find ourselves in the midst of struggle.
Thus, I knew I had to get a grip! And I knew I couldn’t do it on my own
power. I knew I couldn’t just will
myself to stop worrying. I need God’s help. God offers that help. So, I need to turn my attention from the
worries and stress to the God who helps.
I wrote the newsletter article and declared my intent
to renounce worry. That same day, I went
to hear the orthopedist’s conclusions about my ankle. He said it was messed up in about 4 different
ways and the best bet would be surgery, followed by 6 weeks of no weight
bearing.
I’ve spent the last 25 years visiting church members
before they have surgery. I pray with
them. Then I go home. They are in that hospital bed for a while,
and then rehab, and then maybe they return to health, or maybe not. And I have
prayed, maybe while in morning quiet time, or maybe while out walking or
jogging. I worry, I pray, and then I get
on with my healthy life.
It’s a life where I feel like I need to have a lot of
control. Whether it is my family, or the
church, I need to feel like I am in control.
I’m not! But I need to feel like
I am. After March 6, I won’t be able to
pretend that. I won’t be able to rely on
my own strength and independence. If I
want to come to the office to work, I’ll need Candy or I__ to drive me. At home, there are a number of adjustments we
will need to make to accommodate my post-surgery condition.
Immediately after the talk with the surgeon, the
implications began settling in, and it made me … no, I couldn’t. I had just hours before declared my intent to
renounce worry. Could God so quickly put
my resolve to the test?
Let’s be clear.
My problems are very small compared to what many people here have had to
face. I know that. The issues that worry me come in the natural
course of life. The degenerative
condition in both my ankles would have required surgery whether I declared my
intent to renounce worry or not. God
didn’t cause me to need the surgery just to test whether I really would lean on
Him and not worry. Rather, God met me in
my distress, both the pressures of the past three years and my more recent
fears. You may perceive your problems to
be much bigger than mine, or not as significant. Whatever you’re facing, joy comes when we
meet Jesus in it, take His hand, and allow ourselves to be led as He walks us
out of it.
Jesus knew his journey would lead to his death, and I
believe, he knew it would be death on a cross.
Never did he show the slightest apprehension about his fate. In the
Garden of Gethsemane, the night before his crucifixion, he begged for another
way, but that was not the prayer of worry.
That was a prayer of anguish at being betrayed, denied, and
abandoned.
He says, “I tell
you, do not worry.” He had the
authority to give this command because he is Lord, because he faced much worse
than what we face, and because he did it without worrying himself. His “do not worry” is not an overture of
encouragement. It’s a command from the
Holy God.
Along with the command comes grace, because try as we
might, we cannot follow it, not perfectly.
Committing to spiritual disciplines is our attempt to lean-in, into
obedience, into the realities of the Kingdom.
I wonder how the guy who signs his name with Matthew
6:27 is doing in his own efforts to renounce worry. As I said, he never got back to me. But someone who does know him told me a
little more about what led him to this verse.
He is young, under 25. Last year,
his sister died while having a seizure.
Unbelievable grief! What more can
be said? Jesus’ words of promise -
promise that we need not worry - have been a lifeline for this young man.
Having turned fifty, having just gotten over the flu,
facing one ankle surgery and possibly another, as well as other procedures that
come with turning 50, 2020 will be for me a year of attending on my own
health. To do that well, I need to focus
more than ever on who I am in Christ.
The church is His and He’ll take care of it and even help it
thrive. And he’ll help me do my part in
it, but he will have HIs successes with or without me. My family is his and I have my part in
it. Through prayer, worship, and daily
intent, I must lean into Him.
I close by inviting you to consider your own
story. The God who walks with young
people through unbearable grief and helps 50-year-olds come to grips with their
own frailty is the same God that walked Jesus down the road to the cross and
then out of the empty tomb. That God
loves you. God knows your story. So, spend time considering your story,
especially the struggles that threaten your spiritual life. Then select
spiritual disciplines to which you will commit from now, Ash Wednesday until
Easter Sunday this year. Through the
consistent practice of these disciplines, lean into Jesus’ embrace. You’ll grow in your relationship with Him and
even in times of trial, you will have joy.
AMEN
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