Worry Rhymes with Hurry

THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY LIFE is a fast-paced life. The ebb and flow of people going about their daily routines of school or work or hobby are much like the pulse of blood throughout the human body. Our vehicles—there are over a billion of them world-wide—travel at speeds and in numbers that our great-grandparents could only have imagined. Airplanes crisscross the globe—over one hundred fifty thousand flights a day—in a never-ending restlessness on a quest for business or pleasure or perhaps a new beginning.

All of this human activity requires the expenditure of great personal energy and capital to acquire and maintain the perceived necessities of life, and for some, the luxuries of life. This is especially true of the first-world cultures, which make up about two billion of the earth’s seven billion plus human population. But the same pressures, albeit weighted increasingly more towards subsistence levels, is true of the five billion that live in second or third-world conditions. All of us need food, clothing, and shelter, and all of us want more than that. There is a stark reality to human need, and a long history of human greed. So it was it Jesus’ day, and of these pressures he says, “The pagans run after all these things.” (Matt. 6:32)

But let’s not begin our thoughts here; instead, let’s go back a bit in this Sermon on the Mount to a transition point in Jesus’ preaching. He says, “No man can serve two masters. You cannot serve both God and money.” (Matt. 6:24) He then immediately addresses the underlying specific issue—our wants, both needs and desires, are always calling out to us. “More,” they say, “this may not be enough, we might run out. Then what will we do?” We are laden with anxiety, fearful of tomorrow, and discontent with our acquisitions. Jesus calls us to an objectivity beyond such fears. “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?” (Matt. 6:25) It is difficult for us to put aside our gnawing sense of lack and actually hear what he is saying—so much depends on the constant motion of our activity and productivity. If we don’t ‘run after all these things,’ how will we keep up with our needs? Jesus offers a different solution, one that requires seeing life differently. “Look at the birds of the air,” he says. “They do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.” (Matt. 6:26a) And then he captures our attention. “Are you not much more valuable than these?” (Matt. 6:26b)

This is the point at which our anxious thoughts are at least temporarily quelled. We begin to consider whether God the Father is indeed Jehovah-Jireh, that is, the God who supplies all of our needs. Jesus is not quite ready to console or assure us; he wants to firmly grasp our wavering gaze and direct it to the core of the issue first. He asks, “Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Matt. 6:27) We give silent assent, thinking, “Obviously not.” And it sinks in a little deeper. Of course not. We know that life is finite; in fact that is our greatest anxiety. “So little time,” we bemoan, “and so much to do.” Consistent with his intended logic, Jesus then says “Why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?” (Matt. 6:28:30) Again he inserts the undergirding concept of God as provisional—the master of all creation who has designed his realm to meet the needs of his subjects. And Jesus furthers this great assurance. “So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.” (Matt. 6:31-32)

And then comes the great challenge, which has inherent within it a truth principle from another realm, a higher realm, one far above the hurry and worry of our everyday life. Jesus, who came from, speaks from, and returned to that realm, here says “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (Matt. 6:33) This is a direct summons. It calls us to an unflinching examination of our faith, if we are capable of mustering up that much courage. And, if we are honest with ourselves, we must admit that our past encounters with faith obstacles have left us wary of our own ability to commit our beliefs to the actions that require faith.

The first place in scripture that God is revealed as Jehovah-Jireh is in a story of Abraham and Isaac. We know it well. In our mind’s eye we see them both trudging up the mountain at Moriah. Isaac has the wood for a sacrificial fire on his back. Abraham will build the altar. Isaac asks, “Father, the fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” Abraham responds, “God himself will provide the lamb, my son.” (Gen. 22:7-8) And when Abraham is poised, knife held high in his hand over his son bound on the altar, God speaks through an angel. “Do not lay a hand on the boy. Now I know that your fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son.” (Gen. 22:12)

From this we learn what seems at the beginning a fearful lesson. ‘First seeking God and his righteousness’ may call us to give up something we highly value in our current world. ‘You cannot serve two masters,’ said Jesus. Paul, likewise, says “Those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.” (1 Tim. 6:9-10) He prefaced this with these thoughts that support Jesus’ teaching: “But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that.” (1 Tim. 6:6-8)

Perhaps the issue we face is not so much one of our faith in God, but the size of the God in whom we have faith. We nod our heads at the creation story, but stop and consider: Everything made out of nothing? “Ex Nihilo” is a concept the early Latin fathers of the church developed from the Torah. God spoke, and it came to be. He said, “‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” (Gen. 1:2) And he said, “‘Let us make mankind in our image,’ so God created mankind in his own image.” (Gen. 1:26-27) The God who created it all can certainly sustain it all. This God can truly meet all of our needs, though we undoubtedly will have to adjust them. But it starts here: ‘First seek the kingdom of God and his righteousness.’

Q. What is the most important thing I can do about the focus of my life?

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