Choose Wonder Over Worry

Our gospel reading comes today from the book of Matthew, chapter 6.

Matthew 6 · chapter mention

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 which of you, by worrying, can add a single hour to your span of life?

And why do you worry about clothing?

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 those.

But if God so clothes the grass of the field which is alive today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will God 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?

For it is the Gentiles who seek these things, and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.

But seek first for the dominion and the righteousness of God, and all these things will be given to you as well.

The gospel of the Lord.

Please be seated.

Good morning, everyone.

It is so great to be here with you all.

Today's gospel includes a simple invitation from Jesus.

Look at the birds of the air.

At the 8:30 service, we got to do that a little bit more naturally than inside here, but I still invite you to close your eyes and use your imagination for a moment.

Look at the birds of the air.

Listen to the birds of the air.

Notice the birds of the air.

Imagine the birds of the air.

Bird watching, also known as bird, has become incredibly popular, and now I have many friends who are very passionate about it.

They are the kind of people who can identify birds by their songs or with an app on their phone, carry binoculars everywhere they go, and get genuinely excited about spotting a bird they've never seen.

And as I was preparing the sermon and reading the gospel text, I imagine them saying, finally, Jesus is telling everyone to look at birds.

And as much as my friends would love to make me a full-fledged birder, maybe one day, and as much as my appreciation for birds have grown, I have to admit, I'm still usually drawn to looking at the four-legged creatures on the ground instead.

And again, we got to do that a little bit more tangibly earlier this morning, but I also invite you to close your eyes if you wish and use your imaginations to look and listen, to notice and imagine the creatures of the ground.

To take a moment and appreciate all the amazing pets that have come and gone in our lives of all shapes and sizes.

I love animals.

And that's probably something many of you know about me.

I have an amazing dog Marvel with me now, but I'm going to share a little bit about another dog that I have.

So growing up in a family with seven kids who moved a lot, getting a dog was not exactly practical.

So I told myself that as soon as I was a real adult with my own place, I was gonna adopt a dog.

A few weeks after I graduated from college and moved into my own apartment, I walked into the Animal Protection Society of Durham, North Carolina, and met Belle.

Belle was about four years old.

She was severely emaciated and had clearly been mistreated.

She would have had every reason not to trust people, not to trust me.

And yet, somehow, Belle was the sweetest dog on the planet.

In that moment, I knew that she was going to be my best friend, and that she was for eight incredible years.

Even with everything she must have gone through before I met her, she chose to trust me.

She chose to love me.

She got me through my 20s, which was a lot.

She walked beside me through four moves, three different states, two master's degrees, new jobs, celebrations, heartbreaks, and countless ordinary days.

Then in August of 2020, on top of the horrors of the global pandemic, Belle suddenly collapsed on my floor and wouldn't move.

I rushed her to the emergency vet and I had to wait in my car because of said pandemic, and I had to talk with the vet over the phone.

They discovered a ruptured tumor on her spleen that they were going to have to remove and told me that there was only about a one in three chance that the tumor wasn't cancerous.

They allowed me inside with my mask on in a room by myself to say goodbye to Belle in case she didn't survive surgery.

Belle was not done yet.

She miraculously survived the surgery, and after the longest week of my life, the biopsy results came back as non-cancerous.

And I was given four more unexpected, incredible years with my best friend, including those long and lonely days of COVID when her companionship meant more than I could have ever expressed.

Belle was truly the most stubborn and resilient dog I'd ever met.

She was unbelievable and the greatest gift of my life.

When I first started my job here at UDLC in 2023, I actually got to bring her to a pet blessing that summer.

And maybe even some of you had the blessing of meeting her.

Belle sadly passed away two years ago, but her memory, her companionship, and what she taught me will always stay with me.

Belle taught me that love can heal what has been wounded.

She taught me resilience and to never give up.

She reminded me that trust grows through love.

And she taught me to pay attention, to notice beauty, to notice joy, to notice the extraordinary gifts hidden inside ordinary moments.

This past week, I had the opportunity to serve as a chaplain at Bear Creek Camp, and the theme for our first day together was Go Wonder.

And as I spent the week with the campers, I realized that Belle has not been my only teacher.

The campers that week were also my teachers.

They noticed everything: tiny toads, orange newts all over the place, good skipping rocks, towering trees, and the perfect walking stick.

Things I probably would have walked right past if I had been on my own.

Children and young people have an incredible capacity for wonder.

They notice things adults often overlook.

They reminded me that wonder isn't something that children outgrow, but something that adults simply forget.

And honestly, I think that's part of why I love our godly play curriculum that we use here with our kids so much.

One of the ways we encounter God.

Godly play doesn't begin by rushing to explain everything in a Bible story.

It invites us to slow down, to notice, to ask questions, and to enter scripture with curiosity and imagination.

Because faith is not about having all the answers.

Sometimes faith begins with wonder.

And as I watch the campers this week, and as I think about godly play with our own kids here, and as I remember the life of my sweet belle, I wonder if that's exactly what Jesus is inviting us into today.

Not simply to admire birds, but to notice, to pay attention, to rediscover a way of seeing the world with wonder and curiosity.

Because often worry has a way of shrinking our view.

It convinces us that whatever we're anxious or worried about is the only thing that exists.

Wonder expands our view, expands our mind, our perspective.

Not in a way that magically gets rid of our very valid worries and fears and anxieties, but in a way that reminds us that beauty still exists around it, that goodness still exists, that love still exists.

Now I do think it's important to pause here for a moment because this passage can also be a difficult one.

When Jesus says, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, there are people who genuinely worry about those things every single day.

Families are wondering how they will pay rent.

Neighbors are choosing between groceries and medication.

Parents are trying to stretch what they have just a little bit further.

People are wondering where they will sleep tonight.

People with legitimate anxiety disorders and mental health struggles are continuing to seek help and support through therapists and medication.

Let me say that again, because I think this scripture often tends to lead us in that direction.

Jesus is not telling us that if we are experiencing hunger, that if we're experiencing poverty or insecurity or mental illness, that that's happening to us because we lack faith.

That is not what's happening.

After all, Jesus knew what it meant to live under an empire where people struggled simply to survive.

He knew poverty, he knew injustice, he knew what it meant for people to be overlooked, exploited, and pushed to the margins.

And throughout his ministry, Jesus did not simply tell people to stop worrying and start believing.

He fed people, he healed people, he welcomed people, he challenged systems that harmed people and showed us that God's care is not passive.

God's care becomes visible through love and action.

And I think that's part of what Jesus means when he says, seek first for the dominion of God and God's righteousness.

The dominion of God is not about escaping the realities of this world and hoping for something better after death.

It is about participating in God's dream for this world right now.

A world where creation is cherished instead of exploited, a world where people have enough.

A world where everyone belongs.

A world where peace overcomes violence, the lonely are welcomed, and the vulnerable are protected.

So when our neighbors are hungry, seeking God's dominion means helping make sure they have food.

When people are experiencing homelessness, seeking God's righteousness means working toward a reality where everyone has a safe place to live.

When systems create barriers that prevent people from flourishing, seeking God's dominion means working for changes so that all people can experience dignity, justice, and abundant life.

God's love moves outward.

God's love gathers people together.

God's love calls ordinary people to participate.

And I think that is what wonder helps us do.

Wonder doesn't allow us to ignore the suffering.

Wonder helps us see more clearly.

It helps us pay attention.

When we slow down enough to notice God's goodness, we also become more aware of the places where healing is needed.

We notice the neighbor who needs support.

We notice the person who feels excluded.

We notice the parts of our community longing for restoration.

Wonder opens our hearts and our minds, and God's love moves us into action.

Maybe that's why Jesus tells us to look at the birds.

Not because birds have easy lives.

Birds still face storms, flowers bloom and fade, dogs get sick, people experience loss.

Life is fragile.

But creation has a way of reminding us that even in the midst of that fragility, God's love continues to surround us.

The same God who creates ecosystems built on care and interdependence calls us to build communities marked by compassion, generosity, justice, and love.

Again and again in Scripture, God invites ordinary people to participate in extraordinary acts of generosity and compassion.

Bell reminded me of that.

The campers at Bear Creek Camp reminded me of that.

The birds of the air remind me of that.

And maybe they can remind all of us of that too.

At the end of camp this week, I shared with the campers and their families that when they leave Bear Creek Camp, they don't actually leaving camp behind.

Because every time they welcomed someone who felt left out, every time they cared for creation, every time they stood beside someone who was hurting, every time they shared God's love with the world, they carried a little piece of Bear Creek Camp and what they learned with them.

And I think that's true for us too.

Every time we choose wonder over fear, compassion over indifference, generosity over scarcity, welcome over exclusion, justice over comfort, we carry a little piece of God's love and a little piece of Upper Dublin Lutheran Church with us too.

Because that's what this church believes in, that's what this church does.

And I invite you all to continue to put that work into action.

So this week, I hope you'll slow down and wonder.

Look at the birds of the air.

Or maybe if you're like me, you'll end up looking at the dogs, or maybe both.

Either way, I hope you'll notice with any of your senses.

Notice the beauty around you.

Notice the people who embody God's love.

Notice the opportunities to share compassion.

Notice the places where healing is already taking root.

Because every time we open ourselves up to wonder, we catch a glimpse of God's love already breaking into the world and the invitation for us to participate in it.

Look at the birds of the air.

Seek first the dominion of God.

And remember that you belong to the one who delights in the flourishing of every living thing.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.