Give Up Glory and Worry
by Rev. Cory Bradford-Watts
Readings
Matthew 11:28-30
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Read the written message below with music videos:
“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” ~Homer Simpson
With all joking aside, I felt I had to misattribute this quote today from US President Franklin D. Roosevelt (a favorite of mine) because my message today hopefully serves to dispel its sentiment. Fear is nothing to fear. Indeed, there is nothing to fear, as many of the world’s scriptures tell us, “Do not fear.” But fear, in itself, often arises somewhat out of our control – the trick is to let it pass without our identification with it, not to add fear and turmoil upon it. Our sages tell us that this is the trick of returning to our awareness of our source, and it doesn’t stop with fear, it applies to all the meandering affections and thoughts that we often treat as being of vast import in the moment, instead of the passing clouds that they are in the grand sky of our consciousnesses.
The key reason we treat these feelings and thoughts as vastly important is because we have (and are often encouraged to have) a false idea of ourselves and what’s important. Worry and fear arise when we feel a threat to our existence, something we inevitably feel all the time when we identify with our idea of our reputation, our fleeting sense of glory, our inevitably passing bodies, our thoughts and intellect, as well as all the other false derivations and morphing images we have about ourselves and what’s important. The sages tell us that these false ideas of self and our yearning for the things that feed them, disconnect us with our true selves, fogging up our inner life because we centre on the passing mist instead of the sun of consciousness within.
What’s tough about this revelation is that we often think that we like aspects of these transforming, passing images of ourselves and the stories that go with them. We sometimes churn with exultation when we feel we’ve come out on top in some way, but can quickly writhe with fear or foreboding when we remember all the cracks in the fantasy, all the way things could still go wrong or aren’t quite perfect. A wise friend once told me that true love can’t quickly turn to hate, but depending on the type of love, the quip, “Love and hate are separated by a thin line,” seems more apt.
We can often think that these highs and lows are the all of life: creating the depth and width of who we are as people. But there’s a reason our world’s scriptures promise joy and peace everlasting when we give God(dess) the glory and our worry, because when we come to less identify with our swings and somewhat random but habitual ruminations, we dip under our shallow leanings to find the breadth of life already residing within. We tap into the inner light and peace that the God of our scriptures promises and seeks for us, the wellspring of love and joy that we never truly lost as it is awareness itself.
So, to put this into practice, let whatever thoughts you might be having pass you by as they come for a moment or two and remember awareness itself (often related to a sense of being or “I am”). Take those moments to let go of history and future, analysis and fantasy – believe me, you can find these again! Just set everything aside for a short while to get in touch with the light of Divinity within, centering on being. Whatever still arises, give it up to God as you give yourself up to her within, notice any lingering identifications or ruminations as they sweep you along and then let them go without recrimination – it’s all part of the process.
Jesus Christ, who I believe to be God in the flesh, told us that in the Realm of the Heavens the first is last and the last made first. He told us to give up all the ways we misidentify ourselves and yearn for our false selves to reign (the source of our worry), and instead return to the source, to Him, to the Father, the Holy Spirit, to love, light, and our unity with Divinity. In a way, this is a return to identifying with our truer selves and the source of all things. It is said that when we come to centre on this within, we find Christ within, the Yogi, the Buddha, God, who is “gentle and humble in heart, and [we] find rest for [our] souls. For [his] yoke is easy and [his] burden is light.” (Matthew 11:29-30)
Jesus told us not to worry about tomorrow and not to ruminate about our past or our limitations, and he also told us to be ready and awake for his return. What could this mean together? When we’re caught up in the past, the future, our yearnings and fears, and all our fantasies (or analysis) about ourselves and the world, we are asleep to the living God – we miss God’s second coming and the source of love within. What could be greater than a God who manifests as our own peace and compassion, our own wakefulness and knowledge of our unity with all things? Unfortunately, we’ve been misled or mislead ourselves about how deep our well of interconnection goes, despite our scriptures’ calls to unity with God, and we come to identify ourselves with separation and division than with wholeness and the unity of all being.
Thus, we should give it all up to God and find God in the letting go. We’re told that all gifts, all life, all useful functioning, all warmth, love, and on, come from her and are a part of her, and yet, we sometimes reject the idea that the wellspring of life within is God. In our defensiveness of God, we centre on division as we miss the forest for the trees. God calls us to peace, calls us home, and only asks that we lighten our burden to find him.
So, let’s give the glory (and the worry) to God, accepting the joy and the peace as it arises without clinging. The things that are truly us need no wrestling, no chains to keep them close, we can’t lose them. May we find the truth of this for ourselves, taking moments to actively remind ourselves, letting go of our identification with the things that bring us pain to find that God always shares his gifts, that he’s gentle and humble in heart, and that his burden is light.
Peace and presence to you,
Rev. Cory