Last Sunday the live stream service ended at 9:46 a.m. I raced to my office to swap my cassock and surplice for an alb, then to the foyer to put some wafers on a paten, then dashed outside. The outdoor Holy Eucharist began at 10 a.m.

I felt like I was on a conveyer belt of church worship, that of course, I had imposed upon myself. You see, I have a habit of trying to appease inner worrying with over-functioning. Hence, trying to maximize opportunities for safe, in-person worship: Holy Eucharist at 8 a.m. and 10 a.m. with a live-stream Morning Prayer squeezed in at 9:15 a.m. Now, there have been years of Sundays when I’ve led or shared in leading three back to back worship services. Like you, my preaching friends, I know how uplifting and exhausting it can be in “normal” times. For me, and perhaps you share this feeling, it has always felt somewhat consumeristic. A schedule based on a Field of Dreams theology that “if you build it they will come.”

I have no idea if St. Francis participated in more than one service on a Sunday, somehow I doubt it. This Sunday, St. Francis takes precedence, and yes, I know this is not abiding by our sacrosanct rubrics. But, traditionally, it is one of the most attended Sundays we have in the early fall, because, people love to bring their pets to church. And honestly, I have no problem admitting to the very real pressure I feel to get people to church. I strive, like so many of us, to create programs and offerings and worship services that can fit with people’s schedule.

But reading the familiar Lukan gospel assigned for St. Francis day brought tears to my eyes. It reads like a prayer I need right now. Jesus praying with me to acknowledge and let go of the exhaustion all my worry brings. The worry born of striving for validation. Striving to appease everyone else, primarily anonymous voices. Because the one I really am trying to appease is the critic within myself.

Strive for the kingdom, Jesus exhorts. The kingdom within ourselves is bigger than that critic! Connecting with that divine spark is all the striving we need. It’s striving that has us looking forward, not back. It’s not trying to recreate what was, to get back to “normal.” It’s accepting what is, letting go, and allowing for something new. Which usually requires a time of transition, change and uncertainty.

The kingdom of God is not proven with extraneous quantity. A seed of faith is all one needs. To be tended and cultivated with care and compassion. And somehow, from that invitation, community is nourished and given its own space to thrive, rest and grow.

Jesus’ admonition to stop worrying has always frustrated me. Worry is not something I can turn off. But I can turn my attention towards something else. I can turn towards striving for what brings me life. Striving for what brings fulfillment, contentment, and joy. Which by the way, is why I think everyone loves to bring their pets to church. Creatures we care for because in the smallest of ways they care for us. Just by being what God created them to be. That is healthy striving and apparently, that is enough.

What worries fuel your striving these days, my preaching friend? Where could you turn the attention of your heart towards the kingdom that is already within you and let that be enough? My gut tells me, people need to be reminded of that. We are all worrying a great deal and this saps us of the inherent strength God gives us to strive for the good news that is already here.