Who Are You and What Are You Doing Here?

This morning was my congregation's Worship in the Park. When we worship outside, I try my best to work the theme of God's creation into my sermon. This past week, I read the poem by Wendall Berry that closes my sermon, and I realized how much we are crippled by worry. Then I heard the story that opens my sermon, and I realized how much we answer the question "What are you doing here? by responding that we worry. And when I realized that critters in creation do not worry, this sermon emerged.

I heard a story this past week about an old monk who lived in a forest. Each day, he went for a walk. He usually kept to the forest trails; but one day, he decided to go in the opposite direction towards a nearby military base that he usually avoided. When he reached the gate, the sentry stepped out and asked him, “Who are you and what are you doing here?” The monk was silent for a moment, and then asked, “How much are you paid for your services?” Thinking that the monk hadn’t heard him, the sentry repeated his questions more loudly: “Who are you and what are you doing here?” The monk asked the sentry once again, “How much are you paid for your services?” Finally, the sentry boomed out in a no-nonsense tone of voice, “Who are you and what are you doing here?” The monk’s eyes filled with tears. “I have no answer to your questions,” he replied, “but they are the most important questions in the world. Whatever your salary is, I will double it if you will come to live with me and ask me those two questions every morning when I get up.” Those questions cut to the heart of who we are as the people of God. Let’s consider them one at a time.

“Who are you?” The answer to that question has nothing to do with our last names or our skin color or our countries of origin. It has everything to do with what we human beings have in common. The short answer is that we are hybrids: physical creatures that were created by God, and spiritual creatures that were made in God’s own image. As physical creatures, we are a part of God’s creation; and that creation is “very good!” Please don’t pay any attention to the people who claim that flesh is bad while spirit is good. God, after all, called creation “good” six separate times during the creation story in Genesis 1; and after God created human beings, God pronounced it “very good!” But because we are also spiritual creatures, made in God’s image, we are tempted to hold ourselves in higher esteem than we should. Psalm 8 explores this when it asks, “What are human beings that you even think about us?” (We are, after all, part of creation.) “Yet you have made us a little lower than God, and crowned us with glory and honor.” (We are, after all, made in God’s image.)

And that begs the question, what does it mean to be made in God’s image? Well, we certainly have a sense of good and evil. Some things are pleasing to God (good), while others are not (evil). But I think that it means much more than this. It also means that we have a sense of time. We have memories of the past; we have a sense of the present; and (this is what really sets us apart from the other animals in creation) we understand that there will be a future. Animals don’t have a sense of the future. They may know what happened yesterday; and they certainly sense what’s going on now, but the future? Not a clue. And that sense of time is what tempts us to worry. We know that we are physical creatures who have needs; and we know that we will have those same needs in the future. So we plan (that’s a good thing), but then we worry about it (that’s a bad thing). And that’s something that Jesus clearly tells us not to do! “Look at the birds,” he says. “They don’t have closets or warehouses or 401(k) plans, and they do just fine! You can’t add a single hour to your lifespan by worrying about it! So why are you doing it?” (Read Luke 12:22-26, although maybe Jesus didn’t say it in exactly those words!) If we didn’t have physical needs, we wouldn’t worry. If we had no sense of the future, we wouldn’t worry. But we have both… and that causes problems.

Now, let’s tackle that second question: “What are you doing here?” We already know that worrying isn’t the answer that God wants us to give to that question. For one thing, worrying puts the focus of our lives squarely on ourselves; and we should be focusing on other people. And for another thing, worrying actually hurts us! Psychologists have shown that people who worry tend to die earlier than people who don’t. No wonder that Jesus tells us not to do it! God wants his children (us) to live long, happy lives; and worrying cripples us. So… if we’re not supposed to worry… what are we supposed to do? We can find the answer in the 23^rd Psalm if we read between the lines. In that psalm, God promises us a life that is full and beautiful – but we have to let him be our shepherd! When we lie down in green pastures, we will find rest. When we are led by still waters, we will find peace. When our souls are restored, we will be renewed. When we are led in paths of righteousness, God will help us in the difficult decisions that we have to make. When we walk through the valley of the shadow of death (yes, we will have tough times!), we won’t be afraid. Even our enemies won’t be able to take our full lives away from us! And as to the future: “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life!” But to get this full life, we have to trust in God and let him be our shepherd! We have to follow where he leads us, just like sheep do when they trust their shepherd. Worry isn’t a part of that equation! Spending time in creation can help to remind us not to worry. None of the other creatures in God’s creation worries about the future. We’re the only ones who insist on doing it! Maybe we should learn from the example of the animals. Do what you need to do to plan for the future. Even a squirrel gathers nuts in preparation for the winter. But I doubt if, after that squirrel has stored her nuts, she consults the Farmer’s Almanac and worries about whether she has gathered enough!

So, here’s today’s take-home message. Trusting in God means doing your best and then letting it go! We don’t know what the future holds – but God does. Don’t worry about the future; let God handle it! Trust God to hold both you and the future in his hands. You might even pray this kind of prayer when you go to bed at night if worry keeps you from sleeping (as it sometimes does to me): “Loving God, I have done my best today. I give what I have done to you. Watch over me tonight, and help me face tomorrow with the confidence that you are with me through everything. You hold the future in your hands; and you hold me, too.” One of my favorite poems describes the peace of creation that God offers to us. It is titled “The Peace of Wild Things,” and it was written by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.