If you want to understand trust think of a little child in the arms of it’s mother, nursing; that is what psalm 131 tells us this morning:  But I still my soul and make it quiet, like a child upon its mother's breast;  my soul is quieted within me.  The quiet soul does not fear, does not have anxiety, the quiet soul does not worry.

 

A great English educationalist, A. S. Neill, said that the sign of the sick child is that she hovers around her mom and never leaves her side. He tells us that the sick child is interested in persons, but the healthy child has no interest in persons. The healthy child is interested in things. She is so sure and confident of her mother’s love, that she can forget about her mother and go out to explore the world. She has an infinite curiosity.  She looks for a bug to put in her mouth and she triumphantly scrapes her knee.  But the child who clings to her mother, doesn’t have adventure or fun; she’s insecure. Maybe she hasn’t been given all the freedom and love she needs.  Life is sucked out of her, because when a parent threatens to abandon the child, the parent teaches it to crave approval, attention, status, prestige or acceptance.  Once we learn that approval and attention are removable and optional, we are paralyzed and afraid to lose them. We  would do anything to keep them.  Remember the terror you felt of not fitting in as a teenager: the prospect of failure, of making mistakes, of not making cheerleader or the team.   Remember the terror of criticism by others that gave others power over you, the power to make you happy or miserable.  We each have, what you might call, a problem child in us. The problem child screams for attention and approval, and it underlies our surface conflicts.  This problem child disrupts our relationships and especially blocks our fundamental relationship with God.  Our problem child is an old familiar enemy.  It has been our companion our whole life long, and it is difficult to be honest about it because it reminds us of old hurts and deep, deep wounds.  We are usually so ashamed of our problem child that we try to hide it.  It is frightening and humiliating to think that someone might see through us and discover this center of pain and vulnerability and unworthiness.  And so we devise endless masks so that others will not know what we are like inside.

It the first lesson from Isaiah, the prophet speaks for the Lord to his fearful people who are dominated by the problem child within, the problem child that blocks their trust in the Lord.    Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. 16See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.  Today, Jesus offers us Gospel medicine for the problem child within us.  His medicine commands us to open our eyes and become aware of the world around us.  “26Look at the birds of the air,” he tells us, “they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?”  If the lilies of the field are robed in Glory, how much more will our heavenly Father clothe us?  Jesus knows our inner resistances, our fears, and the problem child of our hearts. He doesn’t command us to confront and conquer our problem child, to destroy it and cast it out like an unclean spirit.  Jesus, the word made flesh doesn’t wish to kill and destroy any part of us in the name of God: for we are worth more than many sparrows.  Through Jesus we learn that God is a healer and reconciler, a God who desires to redeem, restore, and transform.  Healing is far more radical than destruction. When you look at the Book of Common Prayer, you discover a God who redeems, restores and transforms, not a God interested in destroying any part of us—the blocks, the problems, or the ego itself. When you thumb through the Book of common prayer, you find a God who would baptize, marry, reconcile, feed us and heal us. The Eucharist is the heart of it.  And at the Eucharist it is crucial to let God’s love come to us in whatever way is best and most spontaneous for each of us.  It is important to come just as we are and not to ride roughshod over our inner resistances.  Resistances are there for a reason.  In the course of our lives we have build up deep defenses because of the hurtful experiences we have endured.  These defenses have helped us to hold it together.  In this Eucharist, God invites us to live in his love through the risen Christ, and he invites to slowly lower our defenses through the healing of memories and the growing of trust.  But this will take time. We do not all at once absorb the truth that we are worth more than many sparrows or that we are robed in greater glory than the lilies of the field.  Jesus has compassion on our inner defenses and on our problem child.  Every Sunday, we have the opportunity to return to Christ with our problem child, with our fears and vulnerabilities.  Every Sunday, we are taught to trust that we are made in God’s own image, and every day we gradually become what we already are.  Every day we grow in trust and every day we learn to still the soul within us: like a child upon its mother's breast; my soul is quieted within me.  Amen.