by Erica Fitzgerald
(Note: While this article was written with elders’ wives and other Christian women in mind, we hope all of our readers will enjoy it and share it with others who might benefit from it.)
“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life,
what you will eat or what you will drink,
nor about your body, what you will put on.
Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?
Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns,
and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.
Are you not of more value than they?
And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?
And why are you anxious about clothing?
Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin,
yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
But if God so clothes the grass of the field,
which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven,
will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?
Therefore do not be anxious, saying,
‘What shall we eat?’
or ‘What shall we drink?’
or ‘What shall we wear?’
For the Gentiles seek after all these things,
and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.
But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,
and all these things will be added to you.
Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.
Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”
(Matt. 6:25-34)
We long for the day when Jesus will address us face to face. We imagine that on that day he might call us “Child,” “Friend,” Beloved,” “Saint,” or “Good and faithful servant.” But four times in Matthew, he addressed people as “You of little faith”—and it wasn’t the Pharisees, the Sadducees, or any other unbeliever. It was his followers—even one of his closest friends.
He said it to a large group of disciples in the Sermon on the Mount (quoted above), exhorting them not to worry about their physical needs. He awoke from a deep sleep and said it to his panicked disciples on the boat before he calmed the storm with mere words (Matt. 8:25-27). He said it to Peter, who began to sink as he feared the wind while walking on water to meet the Lord (Matt. 14:30-32). And he said it to his disciples who forgot to bring bread on their journey—right after the miraculous feedings of the four and five thousand (Matt. 16:5-12).
“You of little faith” is a title none of us wishes for but all of us deserve from time to time. Some of us are more laid back than others, but none of us is totally immune to anxiousness, which is why Jesus addressed the topic so thoroughly in the Sermon on the Mount. There, he gives us five reasons not to worry:
- Because God has a perfect track record of provision for all of his creation—especially his people. We are worth infinitely more to him than the birds that he lovingly feeds—we are worth the death of his Son: “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Rom. 8:32). The psalmist reminds us that “the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly” (Ps. 84:11). We can trust that if something is truly good for us, he will give it to us. And if, on the other hand, it would be a “good thing” for us to face some difficulty instead of getting what seems best to us, he won’t withhold that from us either.
- Because worrying is completely pointless. Jesus said worrying can’t extend our lives by even an hour (Matt. 6:27)—and science says it can actually shorten them. As Erma Bombeck famously said, “Worry is like a rocking chair: it gives you something to do but never gets you anywhere.” Worrying wastes a great deal of energy and brainpower—why not channel that energy into the work of praying, which actually accomplishes something?
- Because worrying about earthly things isn’t even “for the birds”; it’s for the pagans! Thomas Constable writes, “Since God provides so bountifully, it is not only foolish but pagan to fret about the basic necessities of life. The fretting disciple lives like an unbeliever (typically a ‘Gentile’) who disbelieves and disregards God. Such a person devotes too much of his or her attention to the accumulation of material goods, and disregards the more important things in life.”
- Because your heavenly Father knows what you need. He who made us knows us even better than we know ourselves and delights to care for us: “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust” (Ps. 103:13-14). We can bring every care to him, from the biggest to the smallest. As Corrie ten Boom once said, “Any concern too small to be turned into a prayer is too small to be made into a burden.”
- Because God’s grace will meet us in our troubles on the day they occur—not beforehand. “[T]omorrow will be anxious for itself,” Jesus said. “Sufficient for the day is its own trouble” (Matt. 6:34). God promises that his grace is sufficient for us (2 Cor. 12:9), so why do our fears overtake us so easily? Because we don’t have today’s grace for tomorrow’s troubles. If and when the troubles come, God’s grace will certainly be there to sustain us.
Worry and the Kingdom of God
Jesus’ exhortation not to worry makes more sense in light of the overall theme of the Sermon on the Mount, which is the kingdom of God. Remember, the beatitudes are a character sketch of the people who are fit to reign with Christ in his kingdom. The Lord’s prayer instructs us to pray, “Your kingdom come.” The crux of Jesus’ teaching about money is that we can’t serve God and money at the same time; we must choose. And this section commanding us not to worry ends with worry’s antidote: “[S]eek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matt. 6:33).
In Living Without Worry, Timothy Lane says the challenge Jesus keeps posing in the sermon is this: “Are you living as if this life is all there is, or are you living your life for the kingdom of God? Which God? The essence of worry is in attempting to find your ultimate hope, comfort, and meaning in something that’s temporal and fleeting . . . While we may say God is most important in our lives, and that he is in control, we struggle to live this way practically in light of the circumstances we face on a regular basis. Worry is over-concern that results from over-loving something—loving it more than God.”
Lane notes that worry is not the same as concern. He says, “[C]oncern takes wise action and prays dependently. But worry, or over-concern, thinks and acts as though everything is up to you, or completely out of control, and prays desperately if at all.”
Replace Worry with Action
The world has plenty of advice for Nervous Nellies—and most of it is as useless as worry itself. “Put a rubber band on your wrist and flick it every time you worry as a reminder to stop.” “Write down the things you’re worried about.” “Go for a walk.” “Distract yourself.” Okay, great—but sometimes we have legitimate concerns that need to be solved. Telling ourselves to stop worrying about them will not make them vanish.
As the children of a perfectly loving, all-powerful Father, we have something better than the world’s flimsy solutions: we have access to the throne of grace. The cure for worry lies in the apostle Paul’s words in Philippians 4:6-7 (written, no less, from a dingy prison—not most people’s picture of peaceful circumstances): “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Prayer is the task God gives us to work in cooperation with him, to partner with him in what he is doing in our lives and the lives of others. He could work without our participation, but he invites us to work with him—and that gives us something productive to do. Great comfort lies in the four words that come immediately before Paul’s exhortation not to be anxious: “the Lord is near” (Phil. 4:5b).
Yes, praying instead of worrying makes perfect sense—but thanksgiving? The thought of being thankful in terrifying circumstances is absurd to the world, but it’s perfectly logical in light off all that we have in Christ: the presence of God himself, unrestricted access to him, the knowledge that he loves us infinitely, and the fact that he is completely sovereign. If we can give thanks for nothing else, we can give thanks for each of these things—and wait expectantly for our loving Father to work as we trust in him.
Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good!
Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!
(Psalm 34:8)