Worry is a Cancerous Sin

Today’s reading: Matthew 6:25-34

A few months ago, the leader of my Sunday school class started off with an intriguing question. “Is it a sin to worry?”

A man who is tries his best to participate in our church activities but is handicapped by schizophrenia  happened to have wandered into the class that day and answered quickly:  “No!”

Because he is mentally ill — he often roams the church halls talking loudly to himself, sometimes with random obscenities — the rest of us just ignored our friend. We quickly got on with the gist of the lesson which was, in fact, that worry is indeed a sin.

Today’s reading brings me back to Rudy’s answer.

I have become better acquainted with Rudy in the last few months than just about anyone in our church. I’ve come to see a good heart and much intelligence behind his frightening outbursts and bizarre pronouncements. (He is certain, for example, that his former neighbors are ax murderers who have kidnapped, dismembered and buried thousands of people in their backyard in the last 2 years.) I’ve hired Rudy to help me work on client’s yards, and he has even helped me and several others with some fairly complicated auto mechanic work in recent months. He is, truly, a great blessing to me and to our church.

I’m no expert on schizophrenia, of course, but I’ve paid close attention to Rudy’s episodes in our time together. Like others, I usually just ignore them and I’ve discovered that it is very easy to snap him out of them. (Just say, “Hey Rudy, you hungry? Or ask him some other “small-talk” type of question.)   But  I’ve also noticed that the episodes are directly related to worry (and fear).

Rudy “demons” are just characters (perhaps composites of people from his past or maybe entirely fictional) who he has “seen” do unspeakable acts. He is worried that they will do them again. His conversations with these people are, basically, endless threats. He is constantly warning them that he is going to somehow harm them or, sometimes, he assures them they will be  arrested. He is certain that these “people” are evil to the core and have no chance of reform. He “knows”, if he does not stay in a constant state of readiness for attack — they will strike again. He is sure they are waiting for his one weak moment, so they can attack everyone he knows and loves.

One day, after a lot of prayer, I tried something that schizophrenia experts usually warn against: I started a conversation with Rudy about his demons.

“Have you ever tried just forgiving those people?” I asked.

His answer was angry. I almost regretted my experiment.

“You want me to forgive them!” he screamed. “Don’t you know what they would do to me — and to you!? There is no way I will forgive them. I have to fight them! You want me to forgive them?! You’re just stupid!”

“But Rudy, have these people ever attacked you! Have they ever even tried to attack you?”

“No, but that’s only because they know that I will kill them! The moment I let down, they will try to attack me. And they’ll try to attack you too. They hate you as much as they hate me!”

“Rudy, I think you should try to forgive them. Just one day. Try not to worry about those guys. See what happens. I am confident they won’t attack.”

“If I stop worrying, Don, they will kill me! And they’ll kill you first! Trust me. You don’t want me to ever stop worrying! I cannot stop worrying!”

I left it at that.  And Rudy quickly returned to a contented state.

Experts reading this may be wincing, but I am glad I broached this topic with Rudy. I learned a comforting lesson. While I can not do anything about Rudy’s mental illness, I realized that there is nothing for me to fear from him. His worry, and his outbursts, are well intentioned. He believes that he has to remain in a state of worry and fear in order to save the world from evil.

His intentions are noble. But they are wrong.

Rudy’s physical mind appears unable to comprehend it’s spiritual error, so he appears to be doomed to a life-long state of fear. The good news is that God will finally bring him peace in death.  Those of us who care for his soul can rest comfortably knowing he will not suffer forever. There is even the chance that he will, indeed, overcome his schizophrenia and finally learn to accept God’s beauty even before his death. (That was my hope and prayer as I questioned him on this topic.)

Back to the Sunday school class:

The rest of the group and I dove directly into the point of that day’s sermon (which was based on the same scripture as today’s reading), so none of us were willing to follow Rudy’s lead and admit that we too tend to worship at the devil’s alter of fear and worry.

But, as the conversation progressed, I heard some troublesome ideas from my friends. Several times during the hour I heard people speak of “legitimate worries” over such things as being late for work, possibly getting a bad grade in school, or maybe losing a wallet to theft. The consensus was that these were all “good” worries because they tended to keep us safe and lead us to do responsible things.

I was the lone dissenter on this. No one would agree with my hard line: all worry is sinful. There are no “legitimate” worries.

For me,  any worry — even the ones we mentioned that seem  harmless, maybe even good — is a lack of trust in God. And that is my definition of sin.

I’m not saying that do not worry. I’m saying I shouldn’t.

I think I differ with my friends on this because of the dangerous conversation I had with Rudy. (A conversation that worry itself almost kept me from starting.) In that talk, I saw the damage that worry can do to an unwary soul if it’s cancer is given a chance to grow.

Rudy’s spirit is all-but dead due to worry run amok, and I, for one, want to make sure that never happens to me. I pray for the strength to never give worry even a slight chance to possess my spirit — certainly not through a “legitimate” worry.

Today’s reading asks, “And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? (Verse 27)

The answer, of course, is no. And further, we can kill ourselves by worrying — even about “legitimate” or well-intended things.

Thanks be to God for the freedom to live forever without worry! May I always remember that blessing.