This Sunday’s Gospel is filled with beautiful imagery, so detailed and heartfelt. Reading it and reading it again almost feels warm. One can almost sense the sunlight in it, but I’m still worried. My mother often repeated to me the reading’s last line, “Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.” And it did comfort me, as it does now, but I’ve always been a worrywart and a bit neurotic.
We shouldn’t be governed by fear or our unneeded anxieties. We should trust in the Lord, but I don’t think our Savior and the Gospel writers would spend so much time and give so many examples of needless worry if his point was a simple, face value message of “don’t worry.” I think our Lord compassionately is aware of a couple of things.
First, Christ knows that our concerns about survival are real. His first examples in his litany are focused on everyday survival of eating and drinking and clothing our families. He understands that it is hard. Secondly, he goes deeper and talks about how we see ourselves, that we shouldn’t worry about what others think. He talks about beauty and, in turn, our ideas about how we view ourselves. “Learn from the way the wild flowers grow. They do not work or spin. But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like one of them,” Jesus says. As someone who has often felt burdened with material and physical insecurities, this empathetic view is really encouraging.
Finally, in Christ telling us not to worry, I don’t think he’s telling us to not have authentic concerns for ourselves and our families. I think he is letting us know that we are loved, that as we try to provide, God is trying right next to us. We should praise God for what we have and strive with Him, through hard work, prayer and petition for those things we need. Yes, need, not want, that’s an important difference to make. As we begin to enter Lent and as we look toward the lengthening of days, cold rain and warm fronts, let us trust in our Lord to show us the way through. Have a blessed week.
I’ll be seeing you,
Elliot