Theological Truth: The stresses of this life are inevitable. How we handle them is up to us.
In my days of fishing on the Gulf Coast, I learned a little about using a cast net. Well, to be honest, I watched more than I learned.
For the uninitiated, or possibly the uncoordinated, a cast net can be complicated. It’s basically a circular net with weights around the perimeter and a rope that when pulled draws up the net trapping the fish. The idea is to hold the rope and toss the net like a giant frisbee so that it spreads out, lands on the water, descends quickly, and captures the sea life under it as you quickly pull the rope and drag it to you. Simple right?
I think about cast nets when I hear Peter urging the members of the early church to “cast all their anxieties on God.” Aren’t we too carrying a heavy burden of stress? Aren’t our children buckling under the weight of anxieties? If, as Richard Rohr maintains, “suffering” is whenever we are not in control, then aren’t we drowning in a tsunami of suffering?
A constant pounding of waves beyond our control?
Margaret Renkl brilliantly identified the anxieties facing today’s graduates when she said to the graduates at the University of the South, “You are children of the 21st century, and yours is the first generation to recognize the inescapable urgency of climate change, the first not to deny the undeniable loss of biodiversity. You have grown up in an age permeated by the noise of a 24-hour news cycle, by needless political polarization, by devastating gun violence, by the isolating effects of ‘social’ media. You have seen hard-won civil rights rolled back. You have come of age at a time of existential threat — to the planet, to democracy, to the arc of the moral universe itself — and none of it is your fault.” (New York Times, May 15, 2023)
I don’t think St. Peter would be surprised by today’s suffering. His words of the first century apply to us also: “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.” People of faith, searching for God’s love and mercy will always be aware of, sensitive to, and disappointed by the absence of it. Peter’s letter reminds us that there’s more to the story. Suffering is beyond our control, but how we respond is not.
Renkl goes on to advise, “The years have shown me that hardship is only one part of life, and not remotely the largest part. Hardship always lives side by side with happiness. Pain always finds its fullest partner in joy. Love takes many forms, some of them surprising, and people are almost always kinder than we expect. The world is beautiful. And most people are good.” (Ibid.)
Amid the suffering, stress, and anxieties of our lives, how can we remember that the world is beautiful and that most people are doing the best they can? How can we cast our anxieties on God? Or as Eugene Peterson paraphrases in The Message, “live carefree before God”?
This is where the use of a cast net can be an instructive metaphor. For one thing, casting our anxieties on God is a complicated process. It requires a lifetime of practice and a willingness to be persistent. The net is likely to get tangled up. Our technique will need practice and refinement.
A cast net also requires a full and firm grip on the net. In our spiritual lives, we must grab hold of all the edges and issues that are causing us anxiety. Maybe it’s not just the presenting symptom of our irritating co-worker. Perhaps they are just an outlet for a deeper irritation or a lingering hurt. Who do they remind us of? What unresolved hurts may be lingering in our souls? In order to cast our anxieties on God, we’re going to have to gather them up fully, firmly, and bravely.
Having fully, fearlessly, and firmly gathered up our anxieties like the edges of the net, we must then fling them into the unknown bottomless mystery of God’s loving care. This can’t be a faint, half-hearted toss. I’m talking about a whole-body, go-for-broke, hold-nothing-back, heave like your life depended on it casting. A full-on letting go of those anxieties with the determination and expectation that you are heaving them heavenward and as far from you as humanly possible. Sound impossible? With God, all things are possible.
The Rev. Dr. John Dreibelbiss, my seminary advisor, taught me about casting my anxieties on God. He suggested a nightly, intentional spiritual practice of choosing one problem or concern in particular and turning it over to the Holy Spirit with these words: “I am handing this (fill in the blank with your anxiety, issue, problem, concern, etc.) to hold for me tonight. Please hold it for me and do with it as you know best. I’ll take it back in the morning, but for tonight, I entrust it to you.”
When he first told me that, I thought, “Okay. Sure. What have I got to lose?” But then he warned me, “Don’t enter this unadvisedly or lightly. Because you don’t wanna mess with the Holy Spirit. If you promise to leave it in her hands, you better mean it. You can’t wake up an hour later and take it back. You don’t blaspheme or betray promises to the Holy Spirit.”
I honestly don’t remember what my particular anxiety was at the time. But I do remember that it made the idea of casting all of my anxieties on God a more workable option and a sacred act. It also continues to give me a measure of peace. A reminder that God does indeed not leave us comfortless. A way of remembering that “the world is beautiful…and most people are good.”
Friends, don’t be surprised by the suffering and stress of this world. Cast your anxieties on God. Get a firm and full grip. Cast them wholeheartedly into the Spirit’s loving care. Let them sit there for a while. And then take them back to do what is your part to do. And then repeat. Over and again. And “the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the power forever and ever. Amen.”
— Fr. AJ Heine, Rector, Trinity Episcopal Church of Staunton
Seventh Sunday of Easter, May 21, 2023
Readings: Acts 1:6-14; Psalm 68:1-10, 33-36; 1 Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11; John 17:1-11
