Cubits
Isaiah 49:8-16a; Matthew 6:24-34
February 27, 2011
Are any of you suffering from cabin fever long about now? That is a True North form of anxiety. I read that whenever one couple feels stressed out and anxious over their hectic routine, they pop into their viewer a video of birds flying all over the place. Some of you have seen it, the one where amazingly the photographers are seemingly flying right alongside the elegant fliers. The birds of the air melt away one’s worry and stress as the beauty of movement puts things in perspective.
I have resolved to do something similar this late winter and early spring – to watch some birds – Baltimore Orioles, Toronto Blue Jays, St. Louis Cardinals, Los Angeles Angels. Well, angels fly too! And they all specialize in fly balls.
This part of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount is one that I frequently read at memorial services, on one hand, to celebrate the life of a non-anxious person, and on the other, to help us all keep in perspective that anxiety over the things in life only make us anxious, not live a better life. What is the supposed end result of all this worrying? Jesus talks about the futility of thinking that worrying over all these things will somehow make our life better, and if better, longer. We can’t add even a cubit to our span of life, he concludes. “What’s a cubit?” asked Bill Cosby? It was one of the very first standard measurements going back to the age of the Pharaohs in Egypt, the length from one’s elbow to the tip of the middle finger, approximately half a meter, 1-1/2 feet. That does not have anything to do with time, but maybe that was Jesus’ ironic point – you can’t add even 18 inches to your life by worrying out the details.
It’s a wonderful, reassuring message, do not be anxious. Those of us who are anxious and even suffer from clinical afflictions of anxiety know that saying “do not be anxious” does nothing for you. Often such anxiety develops into something the early Christians labeled “acedia” – a form of sloth, boredom and non-caring, of depression and despair that cripples a person from taking any fruitful action. Kathleen Norris’ latest book is entitled exactly that, Acedia & Me, in which she describes the struggles she and her husband had with this “noonday demon,” as it used to be called, and how she gradually emerged through a spiritual awakening that was at once ancient, yet in modern dress. This acedia is something I can only point towards, not yet analyze fully, and certainly not prescribe cures and solutions. Jesus does not offer us a simple or direct solution, but he does point us to a different way of looking at and living life.
The key lies likely in the final verse 34. “Therefore, do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for the day.” It’s that final phrase that is the puzzler. Scott Hozee paraphrases it this way, “And anyway, my friends, today life is bad enough as it is.” This seems to switch gears from the reassuring “don’t worry” to a seemingly cynical “everything’s rotten anyway.”
But Jesus isn’t being cynical, just realistic about the way life works. Do not expect the world to be perfect in order for you to live in the best way possible. Love in the time of cholera, to borrow the title of a famous novel, is a love that will endure even when all is peaceful and healthy. We work so hard to clear away the debris of our lives and world in order to love and live perfectly that we forget about practicing how to love.
Instead, Jesus points to the tiger lilies of the field and the Baltimore Orioles and suggests we live each moment like them, in faith and in trust, without insisting that the world be better before you really get started.
A boat docked in a tiny Costa Rican village. A tourist alighted and complimented the Costa Rican fisherman on the quality of his fish. He asked how long it took him to catch them. “Not very long,” answered the Costa Rican.
“So why didn't you stay out longer and catch more?” asked the tourist. The fisherman explained that his small catch was sufficient to meet both his needs and those of his family.
So the tourist asked, “What do you do with the rest of your time?” Well the fisherman said – “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife. In the evenings, I go into the village to see my friends, have a few drinks, play the guitar, and sing a few songs...I have a full life.”
“Hey” says the tourist, “I have an MBA from a big university and I can help you! You need to fish longer every day. Then you can sell the extra fish you catch and with the extra revenue, you can buy a bigger boat. With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers.
“Then instead of selling your fish to a middle-man, you can negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open your own plant.
“You can then leave this little village and move to San Jose or even New York City! From there you can direct your huge enterprise.”
“How long would this take?” asked the Costa Rican fisherman. “Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years,” replied the tourist.
“And after that?”
“Afterwards? That’s when it gets really interesting,” answered the tourist. “When your business gets really big, you can start selling stocks and make millions!”
“Millions? Really? And after that?”
“After that you’ll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish, take a siesta with your wife, and spend your evenings drinking and enjoying your friends!”
Is this a funny ironic parable of how we try to live a godly life? We create great schemes and worry and fret in order to get back where we once belonged. Don’t try to make the world over into you own image to fit your exacting expectations. Love what you are doing right now, or start doing what you love. Hey, the world is going to surround you with unexpected problems and dilemmas at inopportune moments, no matter how organized you are. Today’s own trouble is plenty sufficient for today, and tomorrow, if you keep loving and doing what you love, you will deal with it just like you did today. And some days, that is living in the kingdom of heaven.
Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan