A Loving Parent

Homily for Sunday, February 27th, 2011

Scriptures:
Isaiah 49: 8-16a
Psalm 131
1 Corinthians 4:1-5
Matthew 6:24-34

Since I preach only one Sunday a month, I am usually a little anxious about what the appointed scripture lessons are going to be for the 4th Sunday. There are many passages in the Holy Bible that are either very difficult to comprehend or so stern and forbidding that they can be scary to think about, much less write a homily around. But I was thrilled when I opened the lectionary and found the lessons for today to be some of my very favorites. Even the collect appointed for the 8th Sunday in Epiphany is a beautiful one, and it sums up the message of today's lessons in a concise and compelling way. Let's revisit the collect now:

"Most loving Father, whose will it is for us to give thanks for all things, to fear nothing but the loss of you, and to cast all our care on you who care for us: Preserve us from faithless fears and worldly anxieties, that no clouds of this mortal life may hide from us the light of that love which is immortal, and which you have manifested to us in your Son Jesus Christ our Lord." The opening words, "Most loving Father," hint at an underlying theme in Christ's teaching: We can trust in God because God loves us as a father loves his children. In fact, I think it is safe to say that we come to believe in God and have faith in his love for us through what we learn about love from our own mothers and fathers. Trusting in God to provide all we need, as he provides for the lilies of the field and the birds of the air, relieves us of all fear. When we were very young children, we had no awareness of being in need. If we were fortunate, we had loving parents who met all of our needs before we could even name them. Having a father's hand to hold or a mother's loving arms to embrace us cast out all our fears. As the collect suggests, we grow into "faithless fears and worldly anxieties" as we confront the responsibilities and difficulties of being adults, but it doesn't have to be that way. Our loving Father and our Brother Jesus are ever with us.

For me, the passage from Matthew that begins with the words "Consider the lilies of the field" always reminds me of my dear mother, whose name was Lillian. She could not have been more loving or tender to her children, and in her own ardent faith, she exemplified the love that casts out fear. This passage also always reminds me of Graves Mill, since my earliest memories are set here, in the place where my mother was born. As a young child, in the early '60s, on summer mornings I would walk up Graves Mill road from my grandmother's home to get the mail and visit Dolly at the post office. Along the roadside, orange tiger lilies grew among tall stalks of Queen Anne's lace and blue bachelor's buttons. The fields were full of wildflowers, daisies and clover and buttercups, and bobwhites called from the fencerows. Singing as it tumbled over stones, the Rapidan River was my companion. Here, it was easy to feel both protected and loved, the way these old blue mountains surround the valley like a shield. Here, it has always been easy for me to know the presence of God, to know that I am "preserved from faithless fears and worldly anxieties." As today's psalm reminds us, it is in humble trust that we turn to God and find God's nurturing presence: "like a child upon its mother's breast, my soul is quieted within me."

The verses from Isaiah speak to those who have known the loving care of good parents, but is also offers consolation to the ones who may not have been so fortunate. God says, "Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. See, I have inscribed you on the palm of my hands." These words are not simply reassuring; they are insistent! God says "See! Look my way and you will find how very near I am to you. You are not only held safely in my hands, you are inscribed there. You are part of me."

When I was a very small child, I was afraid of whippoorwills. Nowadays, I miss hearing their beautiful call. Whippoorwills do not seem to be as plentiful as they were back in those days, and I rarely hear them. But back then, I couldn't fall asleep some nights for hearing their loud cries, and "Whip poor Will" didn't sound very friendly to me. One of my favorite memories of my father is of the night he found me awake, scared of the whippoorwill, and offered me some comfort. Sitting next to me, he turned on the lamp by my bedside and held out his hands, cupped together. He said, "Sue Anne, the whippoorwill is just a little bird. It could fit right here in the palm of my hands." I was never afraid of a whippoorwill again.

Jesus says to us, "Therefore I tell you, do 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? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? 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. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you-- you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, `What will we eat?' or `What will we drink?' or `What will we wear?'... your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well."

When we are children and our parents are nearby, we trust we have nothing to fear. We trust that our needs will be met. Being so fortunate, we are grateful for our blessings. Today's collect begins, "Most loving father, whose will it is for us to give thanks for all things, to fear nothing but the loss of you, and to cast all our care on you who care for us." God's will is for us to respond to our blessings with gratitude and to release our fears and worries to Him. I lost my mom twenty years ago and my dad, seventeen, but I cannot lose the Lord in the same way. The only way I can lose the one who has me inscribed on the palm of His hand is if I turn away from Him.
Oh, Lord, remove from us our faithless fears and help us, like children, to trust and love you more and to live our lives in joyful gratitude. Amen.