On Friday afternoon I picked up my husband, Greg, from work.  Soon after getting into the car, Greg started talking about how he was upset because a letter to the congregation that he had hoped to get in the mail that afternoon may not get in the mail until Saturday.  And if it was going to get in the mail by Saturday, then he had to finish it that evening.  There wouldn’t be any time on Saturday to finish it because Saturday was packed full of very important things to do.  He said that if he didn’t get it in the mail by Saturday, then it would have to wait until Tuesday, and that would be too late. He was very stressed out about these letters.  Finally I asked him what these letters were in reference to, and he said, “Pew Bibles.  I would like for there to be Bibles in our pews, so I’m asking the congregation for donations towards purchasing these Bibles.”  I asked, “Pew Bibles?”  He said, “Yes.”  I asked, “Why do these letters have to be in the mail by tomorrow?”  He answered, “Because I would like to have the Bibles in the pews by the end of May.”  I asked, “And what’s going to happen if they don’t get in the mail until Tuesday?”  He answered, “The congregation won’t have enough time to decide whether or not to give money towards the pew Bibles.”  I said, “If you put them in the mail on Tuesday afternoon instead of Saturday morning, they’ll have ample time to decide whether or not to help with the pew Bibles.”  He said, “No, they won’t.”  I asked, “What will happen if you push back the date to have the pew Bibles by one week?”  He answered, “It’ll stress me out.”  I asked, “Why?”  And he answered, “Will you just let me vent?!”  Welcome to the Syler household.  My husband does this some of the time, but I actually do it more—this whole stressing out about the small things.  My husband vents about it.  I just sit in on the couch or in bed and bite my nails until my husband finally makes me talk about what’s bothering me.  My answer is usually something like: “I meant to call so-and-so, and I forgot.  It’s too late, and now I won’t be able to call her until tomorrow.”  Something that small could keep me up, biting my nails, unable to sleep.  But then my husband says something like, “What’s going to happen if you call her tomorrow instead of today?”  And then I realize that I’ve been worrying over nothing, really.

How many of us do this?  How many of us sit up at all hours of the day and night thinking, worrying about the things on our long to-do list, stressing out about how we’re going to get it all done? 

In today’s gospel, Jesus is talking to his disciples.  Let me set the scene for you so that this makes a little more sense.  The end of chapter 13 from the gospel of John to the end of chapter 14 is commonly referred to as part 1 of “The Farewell Discourse.”  This is part 1 of Jesus telling his disciples of his departure.  Jesus tells his disciples that one of them, Judas, will betray him.  Jesus then says to his disciples, “Little children, I am with you only a little longer.” (John 13:33a).  Jesus proceeds to tell them that one of them, Simon Peter, will deny him.  This is all, of course, a shock to the disciples.  They had thrown down everything they owned to follow this man, Jesus.  They had followed him fervently, passionately.  The disciples had loved him and believed in him.  Now this same man Jesus tells them that he will leave them, and that before he leaves them their second in command, Simon Peter, will betray him.  These disciples have given away all they have to follow Jesus, and now he’s going to leave?  Seriously?! 

Here enters our gospel for today, John 14:1-14.  After telling his disciples he’s leaving them, and then telling Simon Peter that he will deny his Lord and Savior, Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”  Isn’t that like someone telling you your house has just burned down and then saying, “Don’t worry about it”?  Let us put ourselves in the disciples’ shoes for a moment.  This man Jesus for whom we have given everything has told us that he’s going to leave us.  For us disciples, not knowing the end of the story, we feel like Jesus leaving us will be the end of the story.  We thought Jesus was the Messiah, the chosen one, who would establish the new Jerusalem.  We thought Jesus was the anointed King, chosen to bring about the end of suffering and the fulfilling of God’s covenant with us.  Now he’s going to leave us, with so much unfinished business.  The “bad guys” still have the upper hand.  The “good guys” aren’t even close to winning.  And now, after all this bad news, certainly the worse news they could possibly get, Jesus tells them, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”  Yeah, right!

Perhaps there is something to this whole not worrying thing, though.  Jesus takes the worst case scenario, and tells us not to worry nonetheless.  Being told, as a disciple who doesn’t know the end of the story, that Jesus will die, will be leaving me, is much worse than my failure to complete a task on the exact day and at the exact time I think it needs to be completed.  If I’m not supposed to worry about Jesus leaving, dying, then aren’t I also to refrain from worrying about my task that’s not done? 

*(As an aside, for any procrastinators out there, I’m not saying that it’s okay to not get our tasks done.  It’s the worrying I’m talking about, not the actual completing of the task—which can be quite important.)

If we aren’t to worry about Jesus dying, aren’t we also to refrain from worrying about what we will eat, what we will wear, how much money we will make, if our children will make the right decisions, where we will go to college and how we’ll get the money for that, what career we’ll choose, how long our life span will be, etc.?  In Matthew 6:31-33, Jesus says, “…do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’…indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.  But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”  Worrying, you see, disrupts our ability to focus on the kingdom of God.  We cannot focus on two things at once.  We can only focus on one thing.  Everything else we can only see in our peripheral vision.  Will we focus on those things that, in the grand scheme of things—in other words, in the kingdom of heaven—don’t matter, or will we focus on the kingdom of God.  Whichever we choose to focus on will be as bright as the sun.  Whichever we choose not to focus on will be blurry in our peripheral vision.

Jesus is making a very important point here: Do not sweat the small things, and all things beyond the kingdom of God are the small things. 

Even if we don’t worry, though, we’re still the disciples wondering how in the heck we’re going to continue doing the work of Christ without Christ.  There is only one Savior of the world, after all.  We are mere disciples.  Once Jesus is gone, what do we do?  It’s like someone building a house for us, and then saying, “Now you do it.”  But you see, it’s actually not that hard.  In John 14:4, Jesus assures the disciples that they know the way to where he is going.  His disciple Thomas says, “Lord, we do not know where you are going.  How can we know the way?”  Jesus answers, “I am the way. 

It’s hard often to know what we are supposed to do, where we are supposed to go, and how we’re supposed to figure all of this stuff out.  But Jesus tells us how.  It’s actually quite simple.  You see, Jesus is the Word, who tells us of the thoughts, mind, and heart of God.  When Jesus tells us, “I am the way,” he is telling us that God, the kingdom of heaven, is the way.  When we focus on, worry about, the small stuff, we cannot focus on the kingdom of heaven.  When we focus on Christ, we are focusing on the kingdom of heaven.

Strive first for the kingdom of heaven, the way, and everything else will follow.  Focus first on the kingdom of heaven, and there is no need to worry.  The Lord will provide everything else we need. Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled…I am the way.”  How about we live our lives as though we actually believe that’s true.