“[F]or he who has pity on them will lead them”. That is what the prophet known as 2nd Isaiah just told us. For he who has pity on them will lead them.
Later in that first lesson, the prophet describes the cries of
We are so used to the words Lord and God in caps. We see them and just run over them, ignoring the power in God’s name. “YHWH has forsaken me, my Lord has forgotten me”
Distance from God was a common element in scripture and it is an element that we can often recognize. It is easy to relate to that lament. We think “God has forsaken us” sometimes.
Other prophetic works are so often interested in the workings of the world that don’t make sense next to our vision of God. From cyclones and war to famine and oppression, we have always had trouble with this. “Where is God in these things?” we ask.
I want to raise up a study that came out a year and a half ago out of Baylor. You may have heard about it. It is called the Baylor Religion Survey. They were looking for church attendance patterns and the shape of American religious life and stumbled upon an interesting discovery.
According to the researchers, there are 4 distinct views of God:
- · 31.4 percent believe in an Authoritarian God, who is very judgmental and engaged
- · 25 percent believe in a Benevolent God, who is not judgmental but engaged
- · 23 percent believe in a Distant God, who is completely removed
- · 16 percent believe in a Critical God, who is judgmental but not engaged[1]
These findings show that about the same number of people think God is judgmental as believe God isn’t.
They also show that fewer than 57% of people think God is engaged in our lives. From the revelation of Mother Theresa’s journals to our own lives, we are able to see examples of worry over a sense of separation.
We have only to look at the marvels of the Torah, those wondrous acts in the first books of the Bible and then look around us to wonder where our age’s displays of power are. Where are these grand, paternal gestures? Where is our Great Father today?
But Isaiah and our psalm give us mother language:
“Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb?”
And
“But I still my soul and make it quiet, like a child upon its mother's breast”.
Having witnessed the power of a mother in childbirth, there is nothing that a man can compare to this. This is the real power.
Jesus, like the prophet, reveals that God’s power is most clearly served in creation and support, not destruction and works of grandiosity. He says: “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.” The care in creation and power inherent to a lily is greater than Solomon, the most authoritarian and grandiose King of Israel.
Isaiah teaches us that God promises to “turn all my mountains into a road, and my highways shall be raised up.” Significant gestures, yes, but nurturing, and supportive gestures.
In our gospel and lessons, God is promising and encouraging and reassuring us of God’s presence among us and also promising the protection and devotion of a mother. The lily reference is preceded by the question: “And why do you worry about clothing?” Jesus then suggests that “if God so clothes the grass of the field” despite their short and seemingly insignificant lives, then “will he not much more clothe you”?
The lesson we had from Isaiah and the gospel from Matthew are clearly intended for different peoples with different issues. But they have a common need—one that has never left humanity from the beginning.
2nd Isaiah was dealing with the issue of separation and lost hope. She gives voice to God who comforts us: “See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.” A permanent and vivid reminder.
Matthew depicts Jesus as encouraging his followers to worship God, not culture. He says:
“[D]o not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?”
But they both reveal something about God and us. We’re worriers. We ignore God. We fear for our lives, our safety, our security, our homes. God, on the other hand tells us time and again to stop worrying and lighten up! God tells us that we are children and that we are loved and supported. God reminds us that our needs are not really our concern—they’re God’s.
“[F]or he who has pity on them will lead them”. Pity is an expression of love. An expression of support. An expression of caring. And mercy. God continuously shows pity and mercy on us. And asks to stop worrying.
I know it’s hard. We pay lip service to it, right? We say, “yeah, I’ll leave it up to God—there’s no use worrying about it.” And then five minutes later, we’re back at it. Maybe we want to believe God, we just don’t want to rely on God—God doesn’t literally pay the electric bill for us, right? We make out that check.
But Jesus’s last statement in the gospel is surprisingly direct: “So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” Jesus, a man who is continuously confounded by his disciples, tirelessly teaching and repeating himself, who is so effortlessly directive, who so easily told a rich man to sell his possessions and follow him gives such a subtle mantra: “Today’s trouble is enough for today.”
He doesn't say "never think about tomorrow", but "do now worry about tomorrow". The grace that Jesus promises is through our lack of worry. God will take care of us. God already does. We know this, not because there is a message on our voice mail: "Hey Drew, this is God; 555-2345. Don't worry about it, I've got this one." We know this because he promised us. For God, a promise is showing comfort. It is reassuring a devastated and conflicted people that they will be nurtured and loved. That they will be cared for and nursed. That we are children. And God says to us "I love you. See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands."
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