Consider the lilies, with the glory they effortlessly show. This bit of wisdom is a whole lot more than simply stopping to smell the roses (although that’s an excellent thing to do). In the call to consider the lilies, we’re asked to learn from them, to gain wisdom from them, to imitate them. It’s a call to notice beauty and to celebrate it.

First, we notice beauty as gift. As the collect above indicates, God has filled the world with beauty as an act of grace, one that helps us grasp a power greater than ourselves, one that reveals the holy character as loving attention, one that simply brings us joy. Beauty itself, clearly holy intention in creation, is also there to be our teacher. And so we hear the refrain from the psalm that we are to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness. Recognizing that holy beauty is indeed key to our worship.

Second, we notice beauty as lens. It provides a way to look at the world around us, appreciation of nature for sure. It also includes the ways we look at each other. I recently came across a photographic study which showed how people reacted when someone told them they were beautiful. Pre-comment, sullen. Post-comment, glowing. It struck me because I’m spending time on crowded subways these days. I have felt called to pay attention to other people in the car. I sometimes will get out my small sketch pad and draw them. Slightly risky, but it’s my way of considering the beauty in each person (not unlike the dignity in each person). Not because they are attractive in any movie star way, or because they are dressed particularly well, but simply because they are. They are beautiful.

Third, we notice beauty as offering. Note that the second prayer above talks about the gifts of musicians and artists who help us glimpse beauty. My own faith journey has been deeply shaped by those gifts as well as architectural beauty. I’m grateful for those who made that possible, for their offerings. Offerings of beauty are not only located in liturgy and sacred space. I’m mindful of the ministry of Mother Teresa who said that her life goal was to offer something beautiful for God. (As a work of art, her ministry was the moral equivalent of the Sistine Ceiling.) My offering will never rise to that level, but I appreciate her sense that we each and all can do something beautiful for God. She once described herself as a pencil in God’s hand, revealing her openness to God’s will for her life. Nice image.

Newsflash: There’s a whole lot these days in our world that is not beautiful. There’s a whole lot to make us worry. That’s why the call to consider beauty and upon consideration to extend it is so important. As Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount, it takes faith to see the beautiful in our grace-starved world, a world that seems to grow more mean-spirited by the minute. It’s a world that can easily make us anxious, a world that can make us think we are not beautiful enough, that we need to work harder and longer and better to solve the things that cause us angst. Truth be told, that over-functioning will not ultimately do the trick. But it seems to me that Jesus is telling us that we can navigate the anxiety with an expression of gratitude and hope that beauty will grow.

We worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness in the conviction that God cares and God provides. Be on the lookout today for beauty. Don’t let the ugliness dominate us. Consider the lilies. Consider how your faith is deepened by attentiveness to that which is beautiful.

Our musical stroll down memory lane continues. Last week, Bob Dylan: “You gotta serve somebody.” This week, Bobby McFerrin: “Don’t worry, be happy.” Great tune. But as life philosophy, does that work?

We come to a portion of the Sermon on the Mount where Jesus reflects on anxiety, a recognition that it is part of the human experience, maybe especially for disciples. Jesus says: Do not worry about your life. Sometimes I think that’s all I do. I’m wondering, as I reflect on times when I’ve been gripped by worry, how helpful it is for Jesus to simply say: Do not worry.

Note that the verse begins with the word “therefore.” I’ve been told that whenever we see that word in scripture, we need to ask: What is the therefore there for? Well into the sermon, what have we heard that equips us for freedom from worry, from anxiety?

We heard the beatitudes, which tell us that even amid worrisome and challenging times, we can have a sense of blessed hope, the promise of the inheritance of God’s life. We’ve heard challenges to get clear about how we worship. Are we worried about what other people think of us? We’ve heard a call to seek God’s kingdom first, to have that as priority and trust that everything else (including our worries) will fall in place. We’ve heard calls to put trust in God, to live in closer relationship with God.

How can we exercise the kind of trust that allows us to live with less worry? When Jesus invites us to live free of worry, he doesn’t say that it will be easy. He does say that we will not be left alone. I don’t know about you, but I am well aware that I am unable to find freedom from worry on my own. I need help.

Which brings us to the message of this season. Coming off of the Feast of Pentecost, we learn that the Holy Spirit is sent to us, helping us address those things that make us anxious, those things that make us worry, those things that drive us nuts, those things that push our buttons, those things that cause us to fear. The Holy Spirit comes as paraclete, which literally means one who comes along side of us. The Holy Spirit comes as advocate, holy presence on our side, holy presence that has our back. The Holy Spirit comes as comforter, which implies that we need comfort. The Holy Spirit comes as guide and teacher, which implies that we need to be shown a way forward.

I’ve been thinking this week of ways that we can invite the Spirit’s help in all of this. I often find it helpful to look in the spiritual rear-view mirror and see the ways that God has acted in the past, even when I didn’t know it was happening. It provides a bit of a track record that helps me relax.

I sometimes find an attitude of gratitude can be helpful, counting blessings, recognizing that the things that keep me up at night are often problems I don’t really need to worry about.

I sometimes find it helpful to think of people who seem free of anxiety, folks who really have something to worry about, taking these folks as models. I think of the New Testament story of Paul and Silas singing hymns all night in prison. I think of the irrepressible joy of people like Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu, the Dalai Lama, who each faced some of the greatest cruelty that human beings can dish out.

Finally, on days when I have a bit of perspective, I realize that there’s not a lot of productivity in worry, as I hear that life is more than food or clothing, or job title, or zip code, or investments, or reputation, or education, or great sermon review.

So perhaps the best way we can address worry is to say, to pray: Come, Holy Spirit. Try it when faced with worries great and small. Claim the power present along side of us, power around us as advocate, comforter and guide.