Considering lilies

All this past week, the Gospel readings in the Daily Office lectionary have followed Jesus’ soliloquy in Matthew 6 through 7:21, all of which is a continuation of the “Sermon on the Mount” which began in Chapter 5. It is interesting reading, because although most of us are somewhat familiar with the opening beatitudes (Blessed are… etc.) many are less aware that the following three chapters are all part of the same speech. That is not to say that the contents are unfamiliar—some of Jesus’ most iconic teachings are to be found in these three chapters—but that few put the entire block into context of Christ’s ministry as interpreted by Matthew.

You’ll recall from an earlier post that I identify Matthew as the “Jewish” evangelist, in that his Gospel is written from a culturally Jewish viewpoint. Chapters 5-7 consciously evokes the imagery of Moses delivering the law to God’s people—note that the sermon is delivered from a mount, not (as in Luke’s version of the same event) from a “level place.” Jesus is thus presented to the Matthean community, culturally Jewish, as the new Moses who establishes a new covenant with God’s people.

The Sermon on the Mount, then, is more than a collection of warm-and-fuzzy sentiments about the meek inheriting the earth. It is a manifesto, a how-to manual for living the Christian life and bringing about God’s kingdom on earth. As I discussed in the last entry, these are not always easy teachings.

Take, for example, Matthew 6:25-34, which contains the admonition to consider the lilies of the field. There’s a temptation here to interpret this as an excuse for a passive doormat-like life. Don’t worry, be happy, God will provide. To an extent, this is indeed what Jesus is preaching, but I know from my own experience that reality does not work this way. It takes a lot of work to clothe oneself, to feed oneself; for some, it takes all their energy from dawn to dusk just to meet these basic needs—they cannot afford the luxury of waiting for God to provide. I think the key to understanding this passage is found in the last verse:

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.

There is nothing inconsistent here with the phrase Carpe Diem, seize the day. Jesus calls on us to live for the day, and not to concern ourselves overly with what we cannot control. Tomorrow will come, regardless of what we do today, so make the most of today.

There’s an element of Franciscan focus in this concept. Franciscan spirituality, in part, seeks to pull me into full appreciation of each moment of time, to see God as a constant progression of now moments. This focus on the now is incredibly liberating and does indeed relieve me of anxiety about the myriad thens, past and future, that can obscure my relationship with God and, to be honest, with myself. Stop and smell the flowers, you often hear people say. Indeed, consider the lilies of the field.