Concealed

Matthew 6: 1-24

“Concealed”

I have three stories to tell you, and I’d like you to consider what may be in common between them.

The first is about people with handicapped stickers, who park in handicapped spaces in parking lots, and then walk into the store without an obvious or apparent presenting problem. They don’t need a wheelchair, or a walker. They walk in under their own steam and they just don’t seem to deserve the benefit of a handicapped space. Sometimes there’s a note left on their windshield, or a letter written to the editor of the local paper, or a posting on Facebook, challenging these people, arguing that they do not deserve the use of the spaces.

The second story is about an 11 year old girl, a fifth grader, who gets partway through the school year and realizes that all the books being assigned to her class for reading are either about boys, or dogs, or boys with dogs. And so she starts a campaign with a goal to gather 1000 books that include stories about girls and that better reflect the diversity that she sees in her class and her neighborhood.

The third story is reflected in this video: 

Fireflies

What do you think each of these stories has in common?

·     (about something that cannot be easily seen, something hidden about a person)

o  The first story reflects the fact that there are handicaps that are not obvious to those who are not experiencing them, but it makes it no less of a challenge than the ones we can see

o  The second story reflects the fact that unless we meet or read about or learn about people who are different from ourselves, we grow up with a limited view of the world, a view that conceals other points of view.

o  The third story shows how people can be facing challenges that we know nothing about; and that once we do know, we are more able to adapt our approaches to engage with them, to be with them, to build relationships with them.

There is a saying about this: “Be kind, for everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”

The original saying was “Be pitiful, for every man is fighting a hard battle.”

These words were written by the Rev. Ian Henderson in 1897, at a time when the word “pitiful” meant something different. Today, this word is typically used as an expression of contempt; it means that someone is pathetic, or small, or inadequate.

But back then, it meant “full of pity”, or “compassionate”; deserving or arousing pity or commiseration”.

To feel compassion for someone, to commiserate with them, to have pity for them, that is what pitiful used to mean.

Today we say, “be kind”, as we update the saying.

That comes close.

But full of pity also means full of mercy. Be merciful, for everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about.

Can we accept that what is going on with most people is mostly hidden?

Can we accept that about ourselves? Do we try to hide what’s going on with us, from the public, from our friends, from ourselves, from God?

My mom always used to say she would never go out of the house without “putting her face on” – meaning nobody, but nobody was going to see her without her makeup, her lipstick, her hair fixed just the way she wanted it.

Don’t we all do this to some extent, putting on our “game face”, our public persona, and hiding as much as possible our inner lives, our inner thoughts, our inner struggles?

We conceal our wrinkles and rolls.

We encrypt our data.

We put up blinds and curtains.

We carry our concealed weapons, whether they are words, or actions, or guns, keeping them under wraps and out of sight or hearing from the general public, but ready to pull out without warning when we feel threatened.

In this passage,

       Jesus is talking about hiding or concealing things,

       but particularly

       the things we do to share compassion with others;

       the things that we hope will earn us favor with God.

First he says, give alms to the poor in secret. The Greek word for alms is the same word that mercy comes from. It’s undeserved, unearned.

We are called to without considering the worthiness of the one receiving it.

We are called to give without seeking any reward for giving.

We are called to give, because God’s gifts to us prompts us to give freely out of that same love.

The kinds of treasures on earth that we try to hold onto,

to conceal, to protect,

are the things that will deteriorate over time,

no matter what we do.

That’s what Jesus means when he says that moths and rust will destroy and consume them.

They are finite, they won’t last.

They are at risk from thieves.

These are the reasons why we take such significant measure to hang onto them.

These are the reasons why we focus on our scarcities rather than our abundance.

But we don’t need to worry about hanging onto the treasure in heaven.

We don’t need to make sure we are recognized for them, because God recognizes them.

We don’t need to care about whether people realize what we are doing, or even whether the recipient appreciates what we are doing.

God knows.

So the good news is that we can give abundantly, generously, unconditionally, without worrying about what anyone thinks.

We can pray simply, humbly, privately, secretly, without anyone needing to hear our words.

We can fast, or do whatever spiritual disciplines have meaning to us, without needing to get the approval or support of anyone else.

We can trust that the things we hide from others, for whatever reason, will not be hidden from God, who is merciful, and loves us unconditionally.

We can choose as a congregation

       to love and serve

       and be with those in the community

       who have need of us,

without worrying about

       whether we can balance the budget,

       or whether it will bring in new members,

       or how long we can even last by doing such a thing.

Because the only “anyone” who matters

       is the One who knows our hearts,

       sees our intentions and loves us,

       whether we are failing miserably

       or hitting it out of the ballpark,

whether we can sustain forever

       or we are simply good stewards of what we have,

       for as long as we have it.

Let us take to the cross those things we try to hide from God, and those things we try to hold onto rather than making them known, available, able to be shared with others.

And the One who sees in secret will forgive our shortcomings, and perfect our efforts, in the mysterious ways of God, and will surely provide the only rewards that matter.

Amen.