Jesus' invitation not to worry.

I'm thinking of the Eucharist now because this Sunday we have Communion and will be reading Jesus' words "Don't worry about tomorrow, look at how God clothes the lilies and feeds the birds" (from the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew; I'm not doing Transfiguration this Sunday). I see the Eucharist as a ritual of divine self-sharing and in which we feed/serve one another, and radical equality in which all have a place of equal prestige (or equal non-prestige, which ever you prefer). It is a sacrament to nourish us for our spiritual journey, yes; but also, maybe more so, a model of how Jesus imagines we ought to be living together: everyone invited, everyone fed.

What if Jesus was not talking here in the Sermon the Mount about God magically providing bread and clothing (one only needs to open a newspaper or go downtown to know that is not the reality, though most sermons I've heard/read on this seem to go this route)? What if he is saying, "I invite you into this new Way that I am imagining. A Way in which your brothers and sisters (neighbors/community/fellowship/we) will so embody my message of love that they will make sure you don't go without. And that you, too, will provide for those in need when you have an abundance. Stop fighting each other for resources. There is enough for everyone." God provides by making plants and animals grow. That we cannot duplicate. But then it is up to us as God's hands and feet. God provides through our generosity.

So Jesus' words also very much, "Don't worry so much that you hoard your abundance."

It's an unformed thought... but why not?

God HAS provided an abundance. More than enough food grows every year to feed the world. The problem is that too few hold too much.

What if Jesus' words aren't just feel-good platitudes to say and then go home to a nice family dinner knowing that we really don't worry about whether we will eat tomorrow, but gosh it's nice to know that God is taking care of us and good to be reminded not to worry so much about whether we will eat but if we should have the T-Bone or the turkey or go back to that new restaurant with the amazing wine list and brilliant sea bass with chanterelles, but an invitation to let go of the worry of needing to hoard and join him in creating a world in which "Give us this day our daily bread" is never again prayed as a desperate plea born of painful hunger but only as a reminder to self that "daily" is a godly quantity.

At Communion we come as equals in God's eyes to enjoy a table laden with bread and wine sufficient for all, equally available to all. Imagine that table encompassing the planet.

Don't worry (about tomorrow so much that your neighbor goes hungry). Be happy (with enough).

Though there is still that nagging question, How does one say these words to people who are hungry and in very real positions of worry? Well, perhaps these words aren't for them. Or not to be used by you against them. Maybe, if you are in a position to have to wonder how you can say those words, the issue isn't how you can say them but that you feel the need to say them. Food beats platitudes, even if they are the words of Jesus.