WE DO NOT WALK ALONE
Isaiah 49: 14-15; 1 Corinthians 4: 1-5; Matthew 6: 24-34
A few years ago, a friend gave me a wonderful book: “Why Faith Matters” by Rabbi David J. Wolpe, a popular author and commentator based in Los Angeles. In his book, he talks a lot about the lessons he’s learned from facing various crises in life. One story he draws upon in the book tells of the impact the death of his grandfather had on his father, then a boy only eleven years old. The boy, an only child, ended up bearing much of his grief alone.
Following Jewish tradition, he walked to synagogue early every morning to say prayers in his father’s memory – a practice he undertook for a full year. Early on, the little boy spotted the synagogue’s elderly ritual director, Mr. Einstein, walking past his home just as he left to go to the synagogue. The old man said to the boy, “Your home is on the way to the synagogue. I thought it might be fun to have some company. That way,” the old man said, “I won’t have to walk alone.” So for the next year, the little boy and the old man walked to the synagogue together, through all kinds of weather, all the different seasons. They talked about life and loss, sorrow and fear. And gradually, with the old man at his side, the little boy felt less and less alone.
Well, the boy grew up and married and later had a family of his own, and he decided to contact Mr. Einstein – by then into his 90s – and ask if he’d like to meet his family. Mr. Einstein was delighted, but said, since it was hard to get around, they’d have to come see him. Rabbi Wolpe then quotes from something his father later wrote about that trip: “The journey was long and complicated,” he wrote. “His home, by car, was fully 20 minutes away. I drove in tears as I realized what he had done. He had walked for an hour to my home so that I would not have to be alone each morning.”
The story of that little boy and the old man is really our story, yours and mine. It is the story of every one of us making this unpredictable journey through life – a journey that is often not easy. But no matter what we may think: we are not alone. God goes out of His way to walk with us.
We’ve been up on the mountain with Jesus for five weeks now listening to his Sermon on the Mount, one of five great sermons, or discourses, that we’re presented with in Matthew’s Gospel. In this first one, Jesus addresses His moral teaching. He’s told us that the way to true happiness is to be poor in spirit, gentle and merciful, to mourn, to care for what is right, to be pure in heart, to make peace, and to be persecuted for what is right and holy. He’s encouraged us to let the light of our goodness be a beacon for the world. And He’s instructed us that living the Law means more than just living by its letter. It means embracing its spirit. Today, before He leads us down off the mountain, He reassures us just how special we are in the eyes of God. He tells us that if God takes care of the birds of the sky and the fish of the sea and the lilies of the field, how much more will He look after us.
At least four times in today’s Gospel, Jesus cautions us not to worry or be anxious. Easier said than done. When deadlines loom or money seems short or things I’ve done or words I’ve said I wish I could take back, I worry. Will I have enough time to finish this project? Will I have enough money to pay my bills? Will the person I’ve hurt forgive me? Will God forgive me? Conditions in our world cause concern. When will we have peace all over the world? Can we heal the divisions in our nation? Can the tide of terrorism be stopped? How do we stop violence and welcome the stranger and those we name strange because they differ from us? . . . Not worry? How can we NOT worry?
Our first reading today from Isaiah assures us that, no matter what, God will not forget us, as a mother cannot forget the child of her womb. And in the gospel, Jesus goes even further. Don’t worry, He says, about what you have today or where you have to go tomorrow, or how you’ll get there. Because we are not walking alone. Like that old man with the young boy, God walks with us. In our uncertainty, in our anxiety, in our grief, in our joy, whether we understand it or not, whether we sense it or not . . . God is beside us. And it’s even better than that - He doesn’t just walk beside us, He walks ahead of us. God isn’t bound by time and space. He exists in the eternal NOW, so God is already in the future that today we fret about and try to have control over.
But we often forget that, don’t we? We have this need to always feel as if we’re in control of everything. Guess what: we aren’t. So, Jesus reminds us: Take one day at a time, one step at a time, one moment at a time. God knows our needs and will care for us. As St. John Paul II once said, “Remember that you are never alone, Christ is with you on your journey every day of your lives” . . . “Have no fear of moving into the unknown. Simply step out fearlessly knowing that (he is) with you, therefore no harm can befall you; all is very, very well” . . . “Do this in complete faith and confidence. Walk with him who is ‘the Way, the Truth and the Life’!”
It comes down to this: We need to let God be God. Let God be who he is: our Creator, our Father, our Inspiration, our Guide. Let Him do His divine work. Let God challenge us. Let God ask us to be stronger than we realized we could be. Let God take us where we may not want to go. Let God make us what we were meant to be. He knows what WE’RE capable of. We need to remember what HE is capable of? The God who feeds the birds and clothes the flowers parted the Red Sea, gave sight to the blind and raised His only Son from the dead. He’s the God who knows every need, hears every prayer, sees every tear and bestows every blessing.
So, let God be God. Let Him work miracles in our lives. And we can only do that by letting Him INTO our lives. We need to let Him in. Let Him love us. Let Him comfort us. Let Him help us carry our burdens.
The psalm we sang this morning cries out: “Rest in God alone, my soul.” Or as St. Augustine once prayed: “Our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” Our restless hearts will only find their rest by trusting in God’s love and mercy, by turning to Him in our need and in our fear, and having faith . . . faith that our future really is in His hands.
This week, let’s pray for that sense of trust, the same trust that will lead us to say in just a few moments: “Thy will be done.” Embracing that can save us all a lot of sleepless nights – freeing us to face every tomorrow without fear, and so continue our journey. The journey is long. And it isn’t easy. But take heart, and have hope: we do not walk alone.
