ANXIETY is an underlying tension in the lives of everyone. We are wired for it biologically, and conditioned to it culturally. Around us at all times are myriad people that we engage with at various levels of family, work, recreation, shopping, and all day-to-day activities. Occasionally, we have a stressor in these circumstances, some form of altercation. When we feel threatened and afraid, the amygdala, which sits between the higher functions of the brain and the brain stem, automatically activates the fight-or-flight response by sending out signals to release stress hormones that prepare our bodies to fight or run away. In primitive conditions of early man, these were absolute essential functions.
This remains so today, but now in our complex cultures the stressors are not normally life and death; instead the strains of everyday life build up over days-weeks-decades in our lives. It was certainly true in Jesus’ day also, and he had cogent advice regarding these matters. He addresses the common anxiety-producing issues and needs that all people worry about, and says, “Your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matt. 6:32-34)
Jesus’ words reflect the consistent compassionate nature of God towards his highest earthly creation, mankind. Speaking through the prophet Isaiah, God says, “I, even I, am he who comforts you.” (Isa. 51:12a) This is during a time when Israel is in thrall to Babylon, enslaved to their powerful enemy. The fear-generating fight-or-flight response is causing tremendous issues not just for individuals, but collectively for all of the Israelites. God next asks, pointedly, “Who are you that you fear mere mortals, human beings who are but grass, that you forget the Lord your Maker, who stretches out the heavens and who lays the foundations of the earth, that you live in constant terror every day because of the wrath of the oppressor, who is bent on destruction?” (Isa. 51:12b-13)
The Israelites are living out a hard object lesson; their apostasy towards their sovereign creator and protector has directly led to the terrors of the current diaspora. They have been banished from their promised land as a very harsh corrective discipline. Yet, God’s compassion and mercy remain consistent in the context of his on-going covenant people. They may have largely forgotten him, but he has never forgotten them. “The cowering prisoners will soon be set free. For I am the Lord your God. I have covered you with the shadow of my hand, I say to Zion, ‘You are my people.’” (Isa. 51:14-16) And the bible records that their captivity ended, that under Ezra and Nehemiah Jerusalem was rebuilt, and that the nation prospered again.
We are all people short on memory. Our patterns are fairly standard: we forget the pain of previous lessons, hoping for the best in the future; we seek blessing, peace, and prosperity in the present, forgetting the blessings of the past as we strive towards those same felt needs in order to create future space between us and our anxieties. God is not short on memory, nor does he allow our inconsistencies in the matters of faith in the covenant between him and us to cause him to deviate from his purposes and his commitments. He is a holy God, and these are matters of divine integrity. As lenient as we are towards ourselves, we yet see his rectitude clearly in respect to Israel. In the last book of the O.T., before Matthew begins his record of Jesus’ genealogy and birth and the resultant new covenant of grace, God sums up his own covenantal honesty. “‘I the Lord do not change. So you, O descendants of Jacob, are not destroyed. Ever since the time of your forefathers you have turned away from my decrees and have not kept them. Return to me, and I will return to you,’ says the Lord Almighty.” (Mal. 3:6-7)
If we were truthful with ourselves, we would admit not only our failures in these respects, but also our inherent inability to ‘do right.’ Paul struggled with these same issues. He who wrote approximately a quarter of the N.T. says of himself, “For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.” (Rom 7:18-19) Jesus’ words of advice remain, “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness; do not worry about tomorrow. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matt. 6:33-34) And for our sake, he elsewhere comforts, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.” (John 14:1)
Father, how grateful we are for your compassion, a compassion that comes at great price. We remind ourselves of Paul’s words, Father. “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit. You are not your own; you were bought at a price.” (1 Cor. 6:19-20) We would stand ashamed before you, Father, except that is not what you desire from us. “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.” (Rom. 8:1) Father, with Paul we rejoice in sonship, for “The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children, and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.” (Rom. 8:16-17)
Thank you, Abba.
Q. Am I thankful in my obedience, grateful in my trials?
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