A man is running for his life. 

A tiger is hot on his tracks. 

The man suddenly comes up against the edge of a cliff. He looks down and quickly figures there’s enough for him to hold onto to climb down. It’s not too, too far to the bottom. And he’s got no other choice. He swings his legs over the edge, and starts climbing down. He makes it far enough that when he hears a growl above him, he looks up and sees that the tiger can’t reach him. It’s too steep for the big cat to climb. 

The man starts making his way down the rock face.

He looks down to see how far he’s got left to go.

What meets his eyes, but another tiger down there at the bottom, pacing back and forth, looking up at him and sniffing the air and baring its teeth. 

The man clings to the rocks.

He looks up: the first tiger is still at the edge, looking down, biding its time.

The man looks down: the second tiger circles him below. 

He looks up again. He looks down.

Then, the man looks to the side, along the rock face.

There he sees growing between the rocks some bright green leaves … it looks like a strawberry plant. And there is a strawberry, red and ripe in the sun.

The man reaches out and plucks the berry. He bites into it. 

And he smiles.               

The end. 

That story is from our friends in the Buddhist tradition. 

It’s this kind of perspective that leads Buddhist folks to really appreciate our Jesus when he teaches things like, “You don’t need to be anxious about anything: study the wild lilies and how they grow.”

What’s it like to live like that? What can help us cultivate more of this kind of way of being? For Jesus this is based on a deep appreciation and attentiveness to the actual reality of God, present in the actual world, as it is, without all our human meddling … and yet beyond the boundaries of our understanding. The wider perspective when we get just a glimpse of a God’s-eye-view.

Now, before I get too far into this, I want to say that I myself am someone who has struggled with anxiety – still do, though less so. As a matter of fact, I had a bout of anxiety about finishing this sermon with time enough to fulfill my other responsibilities this past week. And, guess what? God help me, it probably ended up fine. This sermon’s on the shorter side, which may in fact be for many of you a relief.

Anyhow, in general, we seem live in an age and a culture of high anxiety. We may not frequently be caught between two hungry predators, but for many folks, our nervous systems can act like we are. This is remarkable in an age of both outrageously plentiful abundance and comfort, on the one hand; and on the other hand, truly desperate poverty, as well as widespread catastrophe due to weather and war. I also find it remarkable that, at least in my experience, most Christians in our time and place don’t seem to focus a lot on this teaching from Jesus’ sermon on the mount, but those who do tend to be folks who are well acquainted with poverty.

Consider the wild lilies and how beautiful they are, simply with the gifts that God has given them. Consider the wild birds and how they have enough, simply with the gifts that God has given them. Consider this all and know: We don’t need to be anxious about anything.

I once had a neighbor who liked to say, “The antidote to anxiety is gratitude.”

A grateful heart simply enjoys the “enoughness” of what is enough for now. Anxiety so often grows from a fear of lack. Gratitude can shift the focus onto how we have in fact enjoyed quite enough, thank you. 

I also once had a teacher in seminary who liked to say: “The antidote to anxiety is curiosity.”

Hmm, I wonder what’s possible here? An attitude of curiosity helps us turn a worry into a wonderment.

Gratitude & Curiosity: they’re both right. These both are antidotes to anxiety.

Anxiety constricts our sense what is real and what is possible. Anxiety constrict them according to our fears. But curiosity & gratitude are two, we could say, postures of being that counteract constriction. They can help us take the blinders off and have a much fuller view of what’s real and what’s possible, which includes the “enoughness” of it all, that we have enough and that we are enough.

Sometimes this requires a full attentiveness to the present moment.

The man on the cliff caught between two hungry tigers on the hunt, was able to simply enjoy the surprising and delicious gift of the strawberry. That’s enough. His smile may also be an appreciation for how on earth a strawberry plant managed to take root on a cliff face. If that’s possible, I wonder what else is?

The regular practice of gratitude helps cultivate this kind of posture of being. As does the regular practice of enjoying the beauty of something simply as it is, the regular practice of abiding in the presence the Holy One beyond our understanding, placing our trust in God, and being curious about what creative possibilities the Holy Spirit is offering us in the present moment.

All that said, if we really care about having less anxiety in this world, only focusing on cultivating a calm inward attitude born faith is not enough. And it is not in fact fully following Jesus’ teachings on the sermon on the mount. We need to also work to make sure people are able to meet their basic needs for safety and shelter and sustenance and community. If someone is anxious because bombs are falling around them, or because there isn’t enough food for their kids, the problem is not that they aren’t grateful enough or that they don’t have a spirit of open curiosity about what’s possible. It’s not reasonable to expect folks to be like the Buddha when caught on the side of cliff between two hungry predators. And there are plenty of things we can do to prevent folks from getting forced into desperate circumstances.

Jesus’ teaching and example and spirit was all about giving to any who needs and caring for the fundamental needs of those in dire straits. That which you do to the least of these you do so unto me.

This can lead us to another antidote for anxiety: generosity.

Having a generous heart helps us keep things in perspective. It’s rooted in more of a God’s-eye-view of the world, of other people, and of ourselves. God creates this world to be good, and beautiful, and enough for all to have enough. It is good, simply good, when we act like it.

Generosity requires action. We feel that something needs to be done. We do something to address that need. We trust that, with God’s help, it can be enough. This is true for small problems that we make big, but also for big problems that truly are big.

When faced with war and climate disasters, it does really help to abide by the wisdom of Rabbi Tarfon in the Talmud:  “Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.”

So, I trust this brief reflection is enough, and good enough to leave you with some helpful things to think about and pray over and act on. I’m grateful for your attention. And I’m curious what wisdom you have to offer about Jesus’ teachings about the lilies.

Thanks be to God.

(Delivered Sunday, November 26, 2023, by Rev. Nathaniel Mahlberg, at the United Church of Christ at Valley Forge)