Posts Tagged ‘Anxiety’

Where your treasure is

August 6, 2022

Pentecost 9 – 2022
Luke 12:32-34
Marian Free

In the name of God, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver. Amen.

I have read Herbert and Harry by Pamela Allan so often that I almost know it by heart. It is a tale of two brothers who lived together, farmed together, and fished together until one day when fishing they pulled up a chest full of treasure. “It’s mine,” said Herbert, “I pulled it up.” “It’s mine,” said Harry, “I cast the net here”. Then Herbert pushed Harry and Harry fell – into the sea. Harry who was a strong swimmer, made it safely to shore while Henry rowed as hard as he could and as far as he could until he reached a lonely piece of shore. Then he started to walk. Herbert wanted to get as far away from Harry as he could. Finally, he lay down to sleep but even though it was dark, and he was very tired, he could not sleep. “What if Harry came and stole the treasure while he slept?” So, he pushed the treasure under the roots of a tree, but he still could not sleep: “What if someone had seen him put it there?”

So, Herbert decided to go far away to the highest mountain in the land and hide the treasure under some rocks, but still, he could not sleep. “What if someone had followed him?” So, he dug a hole deep into the mountain, pushed the treasure in and rolled a huge stone across the entrance. But still, he could not sleep. “What if someone forced him to tell where the treasure was?” He needed guns, lots of guns, but guns were not enough, he began to build a fort. All this took many, many years.

Now, Herbert and Harry are very old men. Herbert still guards his treasure on the top of the highest mountain in the land, but still, he cannot sleep. While Harry, who had no treasure has always been able to sleep.

“Where your treasure is there your heart will be also.”

We are all a bit like Herbert – anxious to hold on to what we have, worried that someone might take it from us, concerned that we will not get by without it. We try to separate ourselves from those who might have designs on our possessions. In places like Cape Town or Port Morseby those who have something to protect build high walls around their homes and top them with barbed wire. They employ armed guards to ensure that no one can get in and steal. Even in Australia where the threat is not so great, people are busy installing security lights, cameras, and alarms to deter anyone from coming in. Gated communities keep the right people in and the wrong people out.
As the story illustrates, alarms, guns and walls are only temporary solutions. Ultimately they exaggerate, rather than diminish our anxiety. Walls and security guards are constant reminders of our what we have to lose, they are a visible symptom of our fear and insecurity. At the same time, they are an indication of how dependent we are on our belongings for our sense of security and well-being – they reassure us that we will have enough for tomorrow, they give us a means by which we can measure ourselves against others and sometimes they are a sign of how far we have come.

And to what end? – possessions can end up possessing us and walls designed to keep us safe hem us in. What is more, our physical treasures are finite and they are vulnerable to loss and decay. As recent events have reminded us, it does not matter what measures we put in place to protect what we own, nothing will keep them safe from fire or flood or other natural disaster. However high our barriers, however extensive our security – those who really want to breach our defences can find ways to do so. However long our life, it will come to an end and no matter how much we have amassed we cannot take it with us.

Thankfully there are treasures that cannot be measured, treasures that are free for the asking and which do not need walls to contain them, because they cannot be contained. Intangible treasures like love, joy, faith, generosity, selfless and hope are imperishable and are designed to endure for eternity. These treasures do not need walls. Indeed, walls would be wasted, because these treasures have no boundaries. They are limitless and they flow outward from those who possess them without being diminished no matter how widely they are shared.

“Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

In her children’s book, Pamela Allan, highlights Herbert’s wasted life. In his desire to protect his treasure he locks himself away, forgoing relationships and experiences which might have enriched his life. Harry, on the other hand, grows old on his farm with wife, children, and grandchildren. In the end, it is Harry – the one without the treasure – who is the richer of the two.

It is possible to spend an entire lifetime amassing wealth and possessions and in building bigger and “safer” fortresses to protect them but in so doing we become so focussed on ourselves and what we have and so anxious about losing it, that we miss out on the enjoyment we might have had from spreading our good fortune with others.

Immediately prior to today’s gospel Jesus has told his disciples: “do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.”

Walls that keep others out also keep out God. Relying on our possessions prevents us from learning that we can place our trust in God. Prioritising our earthly treasures prevents us benefiting from heavenly treasures which are already ours for the asking and which nothing and no one can take from us.

Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

God’s prayer for us

May 23, 2020

Easter 7 – 2020

John 17:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who holds us in prayer. Amen.

In life, and particularly in ministry, we have the privilege to meet some amazing people – people who challenge, confront and support us in our faith journey. Such encounters are very often humbling especially if we take the opportunity to be open to the lessons provided or to the care that is expressed in such meetings. The examples are myriad, but today I would like to share a couple that pick up the theme of today’s gospel – prayer. 

Many years ago, before I was ordained, I attended Parish planning days. On these occasions we were often divided into small groups to consider, among other things, the ways in which we practiced our faith. Anglicans are not very good at sharing such things, so it was extraordinary to be in a situation in which congregation members were willing to confide in each other. On not one, but two separate occasions, in two different parishes, I found myself in groups with women who were in their seventies or eighties (in other words with women whom I only knew as the elderly members of the congregation). I was deeply moved (and chastened) to hear that they rose at 4:00am in the morning so that they could pray without interruption. I was, and still am, struck by their discipline and by the importance that they placed on their faith and their prayer life.  (And on mornings such as this when it is only 12 degrees at 8:00am I am overawed by their resilience!)

I confess that I have not adopted their practice, but all these years later their rigor and discipline continue to call me to account. From time to time I find myself comparing my prayer life to theirs and being challenged to pray more and to pray more regularly.

A quite different, but equally humbling story relates to my first incumbency. During that time, I had the joy of meeting Ruby. Ruby was beautiful and wise and was only eight years old. She was the granddaughter of a parishioner. Her mother was an addict and her grandmother had to maintain a fine (non-judgmental) line in order to retain her contact with her granddaughter. I was fond of Ruby and concerned for her and her situation. So it was that I was completely blown away when her grandmother informed me that Ruby had set up a little altar in her bedroom and even more astounded to learn that, among other things, Ruby said a prayer for me every day!  It is impossible to tell you how moved I was by that knowledge. Knowing that Ruby was praying for me filled me with an overwhelming sense of being loved and held and supported. Whenever I felt underappreciated or overworked, I remembered Ruby’s prayers and regained my sense of perspective. 

John chapter 17 concludes Jesus’ farewell speech. In this section he moves from instruction and encouragement to prayer – not for himself, but for those who are close to him and by extension for those who will come to faith through them. In the face of his impending death Jesus expresses a sense of completion. Despite what lies ahead, Jesus is not anxious for himself. He knows that his relationship with God is clear and is assured. He sees his death as his glorification (or perhaps a confirmation of the glory that was his from the beginning). Jesus’ death might mark the end of his earthly ministry, but Jesus knows that that in itself was only a brief interruption to the existence that he has shared from the beginning with God and to which death will restore him.  

Jesus’ anxiety is not for himself or for his future, but for his disciples – those who have come to faith in him (and therefore to faith in God). Their earthly lives, which have been dramatically changed by their relationship with Jesus, will have to continue in the world without his physical presence to protect and defend them. Knowing that their faith in him has placed them in danger, Jesus prays for them, committing them to God’s care and protection. 

Interestingly, Jesus does not break off his conversation with the disciples in order to pray. He does not separate himself from them or adopt a pious stance (head bowed; hands clasped). He does not feel the need to go to the Temple to pray.  Instead he remains where he is, at the dinner table, surrounded – we must assume – by the empty plates, the cups and the leftovers. Jesus’ prayer – the only prayer recorded in John’s gospel takes place in the presence of his disciples who must surely notice that he is no longer addressing them, but God. This means that they can hear everything he says and the tone in which he says it. 

Because Jesus prays in their presence, the disciples are first-hand witnesses of Jesus’ love for them, his confidence in them, his desire that God should protect them from  harm and his firm belief that because they know him, they know God and that such knowledge is the key to eternal life. Jesus’ prayer assures the disciples that they already belong to God and that they share with Jesus his unity with God. I wonder how the disciples felt – not only to know that Jesus was praying for them, but to overhear the words of that prayer – to know that through Jesus’ prayer they were held and loved and supported – no matter what that future might hold.

Verse 20 tells us that Jesus’ prayer encompasses those who believe in him through the words of the disciples. Twenty centuries later, through the gospel we can eavesdrop on Jesus praying for us – not in private but for all the world to hear. We are so used to hoping that God will hear our prayer that perhaps we do not pay enough attention to God’s prayer for us.

Jesus is always overturning the tables, forcing us to rethink our ways of seeing the world, opening our hearts and minds to new possibilities. What does it mean that God is praying for us, for you?

How does it change your relationship to prayer, to God? 

Life not death

May 9, 2020

Easter 5 – 2020
John 14:1-14
Marian Free

In the name of God who empowers and directs our lives. Amen.

As is the case with much of John’s gospel, today’s passage is complex and is filled with a number of different ideas that cannot be adequately dealt with in one sermon. The passage is the beginning of Jesus’ farewell speech, spoken after Jesus had washed the feet of the disciples and after Judas had been exposed as the one who would hand Jesus over to the authorities and who had gone off into the night. In the previous verses Jesus had announced that he would be with the disciples only a little longer and he had told them that they would not be able to follow him. In response, Peter had brashly said that he would follow Jesus even if it meant laying down his life for him. In reply Jesus had said that not only was Peter’s an empty promise, but that before daybreak, he would deny Jesus three times.

In our passage then, Jesus was addressing disciples who were confused, anxious and perhaps even frightened. Nothing made sense to them. Jesus appeared to be speaking in riddles. He had said that they could not follow him, but now he was saying: “You know the way”. Jesus has not given them a road map but has suggested that their relationship with him was all the direction that they needed. In essence, Jesus was saying, that if the disciples had found him, then they had already found the Father, that is they had already reached their destination. This relationship – with Jesus and therefore with the Father – Jesus had gone on to explain, was not passive but active. If the disciples had grasped the unity of Jesus and the Father, not only would they know the way, but they would enter into that relationship. In turn, their relationship with the Father through the Son, would empower them not only to do the works that Jesus had done, but even greater works! It was no wonder that the disciples were overwhelmed.

The first 6 verses of this chapter are regularly chosen as the reading for a funeral. Those who are grieving find comfort and reassurance in the knowledge that Jesus has gone ahead to prepare a place for us. However, if we leave it there and don’t explore the wider context, we miss the point of this and the subsequent passages. That is to say Jesus might have announced his departure and reassured the disciples of his return, but he is not preparing his disciples for death. He is equipping them for life. Jesus’ death will not be the end of the disciples’ life together, it will herald a new chapter in the life of the community, a life, we will discover that is enlivened and empowered by the Holy Spirit.
Chapter 14 begins what is known as Jesus’ ‘farewell speech’. A farewell speech was a well-known literary genre in the Old Testament and in the Graeco-Roman world. It “highlighted the speaker’s impending death, care of those remaining, the regulation of discipleship, thanks to the gods, an accounting for his life, consolation to an inner-circles of followers, didactic speeches and political and philosophical testaments” . There was a great deal of variation in content and expression. For example, Deuteronomy in its entirety is Moses’ farewell speech. He recounts the escape from Egypt; reminds the Israelites of their covenant relationship with Yahweh, the responsibilities that that entails and the consequences of failing to live up to Yahweh’s expectations. In Genesis the final chapters record Jacob’s farewell speech to his sons which takes the form of a blessing for each one of them.

In John’s gospel Jesus’ farewell speech prepares his disciples for the future. He tells them that he is going away, promises that he will send the Holy Spirit, encourages them to love one another (to the point of death) and to be strong in the face of opposition. Jesus’ words were not intended to provide comfort for the dying or the grieving but instruction for the living. It is Jesus who is dying, not those to whom he is speaking. He does not want the disciples to put their lives on hold waiting for his return or for their own deaths. Rather his expectation is that their relationship with him – and by extension with the Father – will ensure that even in his absence they will continue to do what he has done and to do much more besides.

Jesus begins his speech with the words: “Do not let your hearts be troubled”, words that he repeats towards the end of the chapter. “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” Jesus’ words could not be any more pertinent in today’s climate. In recent weeks we, and the community around us have lived with uncertainty, anxiety and perhaps even with fear of death or the loss of a loved. Even now, as the restrictions are being lifted, we do not have a clear road map of the way ahead or of what the world will look like. Some things will never be the same and we will not know the true cost to the community for some years.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.” Faith in Jesus enables us to face the present with resilience, confidence and even, dare I say, a sense of wonder as to what this time of seclusion might have had to teach us and the church of which we are a part. As we begin to come out of isolation to a future that is as yet unknown, we do well to remember that Jesus is “the way, the truth and the life” and that in fellowship with him we can and will face whatever it is that life has to throw at us.