Babies and Wildflowers
May 25, 2008
Michele Rizoli
Text:
Matthew 6:24-34
Psalm 131
Isaiah 49:8-16a
In the scripture readings for today we read about two wonderful images for our relationship to God: God as a landscaper and God as a Mother. On the one hand we have visions of a field of wildflowers glowing with colour and little birds chirping and flying carefree in all directions and on the other we have the Psalm that reminds us how good it feels to be cozy and safe in a mother’s arms.
This week, even as I reflected on these heartwarming and bucolic metaphors, in the news I was hearing about the ongoing catastrophe wrought by the cyclone in Myanmar/Burma and the earthquake in China; about a massive 2 km wide tornado that tore through Colorado; and about a couple who abandoned their 8-month-old daughter in a freezing stairwell last winter. I was imagining how many wildflowers and little birdies were destroyed in those cataclysmic events and how parents could do such a thing with their own flesh and blood. Somehow the images of flowers and parents were not as reassuring.
Well, that’s not the only thing that made me squirm. These same scriptures insisted on bringing up the topic of money – which is not at all what I want to talk about. Couldn’t I just please stick with warm and fuzzies? Incidentally, did you notice that those same reports on the cyclone and earthquake (which happened in poorer parts of the world) speak of the thousands of lives lost, while the reports on the tornado (which happened in North America) speak of the thousands of dollars lost. What does that tell us?
Today I do want to consider the wildflowers and the perspective they give us on our anxieties and our striving for wealth. I do want to reflect on God as a nursing Mother. But I want us to be aware that these metaphors are at the same time very plain and simple but also challenging and complex.
This is especially the case because everyone’s experience makes us conjure up different scenarios and hear different things. If you’re poor you know all about worry. If you’re rich you know all about guilt (and probably about worry too) and so on. If you are a mother you think about nursing an infant with tenderness, if you are not you may feel pangs of longing. On the other hand you might remember your own mother with mixed feelings. See what I mean? Different experiences, different message.
What jumps out at you when you listen to these passages? What draws you in? What makes you recoil?
(Matthew 6)
24“No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.”
25“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?
31Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ 32For it is the unbelievers who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33But strive first for the kingdom of God and its righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.
(Psalm 131)
1O Lord, … I have calmed and quieted my soul, like an infant with its mother; my soul is like the child that is with me.
Isaiah 49
15Can 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;
My imagination was nurtured by these passages this week, and I want to share with you a few of my thoughts.
Let’s start with the flowers: Now that we are in spring we can marvel at how year after year those forget-me-not’s or lilies of the valley or dandelions just pop up out of nowhere in unexpected corners and create little cameos of colour and beauty – even if our goal is to pull them out while weeding! I imagine Jesus was referring to the hundreds of red anemones scattered everywhere in the fields surrounding Nazareth. They are like little red butterflies fluttering around as far as the eye can see. It is gorgeous. I tried taking a picture, but the wildflowers can’t really be captured properly on film, they look cheesy instead of exquisite. The thing is, these flowers are breathtaking, but they are also there one week and gone the next. If a kid comes along and picks some for her Mom, they won’t even last until they reach a vase before they wilt and die.
Referring to wildflowers is a Biblical way of referring to the transient nature of life. Here today, gone tomorrow. Referring to the birds of the air is also common
in Biblical language, a way to remember God’s care. Jesus’ point in bringing up these images is that both the birds and the flowers exist perfectly well without anxiety about their material needs. Furthermore, that adding anxiety, worry or striving doesn’t change their prospects one bit. Flowers and birds are temporary and recurring, they don’t last forever. Can you imagine a wildflower taking stress leave from being out in the field or not getting along with its co-flowers? Can you imagine a sparrow going for credit counseling or getting a mortgage on the new nest?
Indeed, God has set up nature in such a way that worry doesn’t factor in. Flowers and birds have a purpose and a time and a way to live: they don’t strive to build wealth, to ensure permanence, and they don’t even imagine increasing their lifespan. It would be pointless. Jesus assures us that if God cares for such insignificance, then how much more would God care for people who have been the object of God’s love and meaning.
The problem is that in my experience this has far too often been distorted to mean that individuals who trust in God will never suffer any need – so long as they have enough faith, or give enough tithes, or believe the right things, or read the Bible enough or whatever – nothing could possibly go wrong. I don’t really buy that. First because we can have strange ways of defining our needs, and secondly I think that Jesus – as usual – is not talking about guarantees, he’s talking about a radical shift in values and a radical trust in God: we are not the ones in control.
The shift in values Jesus is illustrating is plain and simple: you can’t be aiming towards wealth and towards God’s kingdom at the same time. They are two different targets, two different directions, two different ways of living your life. I will not say here that God’s kingdom precludes any material things except those that meet our basic need for food and shelter—that would be over-simplified and is a discussion for other sermons. But I will say that God’s kingdom includes the need to realize that we live in dependence and correlation with one another need for justice, the need for peace, the need for care for the oppressed, the need to humbly and meekly realize that we cannot control everything. Those are the priorities, not RRSP’s and life insurance. Seeking God’s kingdom will not guarantee our material needs, it will give us the proper attachment to them or detachment from them, as the case may be. This is the shift in values Jesus is talking about.
So now I come to the radical shift in trust. If we are not worrying and striving, what are we doing? That is where the nursing babies come in. While Jesus calls for trust in God, the Psalmist enlightens us as to what that trust might look like.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like an infant with its mother; my soul is like the child that is on my back. (paraphrased)
First, a note about wording. If you do go and read these scriptures in your Bible, you’ll probably notice that both the Psalm and the Isaiah scripture we heard earlier refer to a weaned child. I’m choosing rather to understand these as a nursing child. It’s hard to say exactly what the original reference was, there are so many cultural variants related to when and how children are breastfed and weaned. I was persuaded by one author from South Africa[1] who made a strong argument from her cultural background. She understands the Psalm as a reference to the practice of babywearing[2] and breastfeeding. This is the worldwide practice where babies are kept in a sling on the mother’s back while she goes about her daily chores, and if the baby needs attention, or nursing, it is brought around, tended to, then shifted back into a comfy position for a nap or quiet contemplation or rocking to the mother’s working rhythm. It’s practical for the mom and, I imagine, tremendously reassuring for the child. I think this is a wonderful image of being tended in God’s care. Some people even think that the psalm was written by a mom. (“My soul is like the child resting on my back”, it’s like I wish I was the one resting and not working.)
Nowadays, psychology understands the tremendous importance of the bonding between caregiver and child; it’s called attachment. (Although it doesn’t have to be with the mother, because our scripture passage refers to a mother, we will too. Also, we get so few chances to understand God as mother why neutralize the metaphor by saying caregiver?)
Anyway, according to researchers Bowlby and Ainsworth, “attachment is the reciprocal bond between child and caregiver that is established early in life. This relationship has profound and lasting effects on all aspects of development including neurological, physical, emotional, cognitive, behavioral and social. The early attachment relationship:
o Lays the foundation for our basic ability to trust;
o Acts as a model for future emotional relationships;
o Develops our ability to regulate arousal, stress and trauma;
o Informs our sense of identity, self-worth and competency;
o Lays the foundation for pro-social morals such as compassion, empathy and conscience.”[3] It is intrinsically connected to how we sense and seek satisfaction for our needs.
Breastfeeding for its part promotes secure attachment because while breastfeeding, a mother is available, in tune with the needs of her child, showing affection, demonstrating pleasure in the interaction, and comforting her child.[4] I’m pretty sure that the psalmist didn’t know about attachment theory, nor did all the moms who throughout millennia have carried babies around in slings and followed their instinct to breastfeed yet there it is. Something so simple as how baby trustingly rests on its mother’s breast has such a profound impact on how that baby eventually relates to the world. What a powerful metaphor for the quality of our trust in God!
As with the matter of God vs. wealth, this idea of attachment helped me understand what to aim for realistically when we talk about trusting in God. I don’t find it helpful to think of myself as utterly helpless and dependent, and of God as the quick and instant satisfaction of my every need. Trust in God is deeper than that. When babies become adults their earlier proper attachment to their source of care and nurture is what makes them able to function in the world. Adults move beyond the supply and demand relationship with their mother but remain grounded in their experience of trust in her.
I don’t want to stretch the metaphor too far. What I’m saying is that the quality of our trust in God is this kind of primal, grounded trust. It doesn’t mean that nothing can go wrong, but it does mean that our Mother God will never forget us and we will function differently in the world because of our attachment to her. Attachment in kingdom of God terms, means that our trust in God will serve as a model for future emotional relationships, will regulate how we respond to stress and trauma, will inform our sense of identity and will lay the foundation for compassion, empathy and conscience.
I don’t consciously remember what it was like to lay worry free on my mother’s chest. But the other day I was looking through some old family photos and I found one of my Mom and my brother that exuded such wonderful trust that I’ve started to conjure it up when I need to imagine being comforted in God’s arms.
When he was little my brother used to beg her “Munner, can I sit on your yap?” (Mother, can I sit on your lap?) this picture shows exactly what he was asking for. They are on the front seat of the VW van, my mother is sitting with her left arm outstretched across the back of the seat. My brother, who is probably no older than two is in a squatting position on the seat beside her with his head resting on her breast. He’s there with his head on her chest, sleeping. His blond hair is streaked with sweat, his cheeks are rosy with the heat and he is sleeping soundly. My Mom is smiling quietly at the camera, with her flowered dress and French bun hairdo, and it looks like she is perfectly willing to just sit there for as long as it takes so as not to disturb her little guy. The heat doesn’t matter, the absence of a car seat doesn’t matter, in fact it’s such a precious moment my parents even tried to capture it on film. And like my picture of the wild anemones that I tried to take, it doesn’t really capture the exquisite moment. But it has just a hint of it and makes me long for my mother’s lap.
When I’m anxious this week – and I know I will be – I’m going to try to remember the wildflowers; here today gone tomorrow, beautiful while they last. And I’m going to try to remember being in my mother’s arms or having my own kids snuggled up. I’m going to try to think of God as a mother comforting me and reassuring me. I invite you to take whatever images these scriptures conjured up for you. Contemplate and imagine them, use them to ward of your worries and anxieties and your striving for wealth this week. Amen.
[1] Labuschagne, C J. “The Metaphor of the So-Called Weaned Child’ in Psalm cxxxi” Vetus testamentum 57 no 1 2007, p 114-118
[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babywearing (accessed May 24, 2009)
[3]http://www.newyorkattachmentcenter.com/index.php?page=about&family=home&category=What_is_Attachment_Disorder-question- (accessed May 24, 2008)
[4] http://www.attachmentacrosscultures.org/beliefs/bfeed_attach.pdf (accessed May 24, 2008)