Best. Sermon. Ever.: Not To Worry

Therefore, I tell you, don't worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink or about your body, what you will wear. Isn't life more than food and the body more than clothing? Consider the birds of the sky. They don't sow or reap or gather into barns, yet your heavenly father feeds them. Aren't you worth more than they? Can any of you add one moment to his lifespan by worrying? And why do you worry about clothes? Observe how the wildflowers of the field grow. It's so yet I tell you that not even Solomon, in all his splendor, was adorned like one of these. If that's how God closed the grass of the field, which is here today, and thrown into the furnace tomorrow, Won't he do much more for you, you of little faith? So don't worry saying, what will we eat or what will we drink or what will we wear? For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things, and your heavenly father knows that you need them. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you. Therefore, don't worry about tomorrow because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. — Matthew 6:25-34

This is the word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

I remember several years ago, probably about fifteen years ago, I was walking down the street in Philadelphia, and I had several strangers in a row give me totally unsolicited feedback about my appearance.

One day I'm walking down the street and this guy says to me, "Hey, it's okay, big man." And I was like, "Okay, thank you." And then another day, not too long after this, this woman says to me, "It can't be that bad." And I was like, "What? It can't be. I don't even know you. Why are you talking to me?" That's how we do in Philly. And then a couple days later, another person says, "Take it easy, big guy."

All these strangers were giving me unsolicited feedback about my appearance. What I found out was my face was telling a story. My face was telling a story: furrowed brow, knitted eyebrows, hunched over. My face was telling a story that strangers could read off of me. And that's a story of worry, a story of preoccupation.

We all know what worry feels like. You're here, but you're not really here. You're awake in the middle of the night. You're playing out the scenarios, the possibilities. You can't concentrate. Furrowed brow, knitted eyebrows, hunched over. Worry.

So I could ask you this question this morning: What are you so worried about? And I know I'll hit most of the congregation. In fact, I think I could probably show up in your life about every week and ask you that question, and you might have an answer. What are you so worried about? What are you preoccupied with? That's always a relevant question because there's always something to worry about, isn't there?

There's always something to worry about. You've got plenty of reasons to worry. Think about this and go back to the kids in our kids' wing, go back to your childhood or think about your own children. Our kids grow up and no one has to teach them to worry. There's not a class on that in school. We all learn how to do that very quickly.

What are our kids worried about? Beginning of school tomorrow for Wake County. Am I going to have a friend this year? Will I be able to do well in school? Worried about their parents' moodiness? Worried about the bullies at school? Worried about getting on the team, staying on the team, knowing the lines for the play. There are all kinds of things that our kids are worried about, and you never grow out of this, do we?

You grow up and you worry: Am I going to be able to get a job? What's this economy like? Am I going to be able to move forward in life? Is there going to be somebody who loves me? Somebody who wants to be with me and really me? We have all these questions.

And then maybe you graduate from college or you get out in the workforce and you're like, "Can I afford a house? My parents somehow did this. Am I going to be able to afford a house in Raleigh of all places? What about the interest rates going up? What's going to happen to me?"

You get older and you're like, "Are we going to be able to afford college? What am I going to do for retirement? Nobody ever has enough money for retirement. That's what they tell us. Nobody ever has enough money. What about my health? What about my parents' health?"

What if I get cancer like so and so in my family, or Alzheimer's, or all the things we have on this ongoing list? Everybody has a list, don't we? There is always something to be worried about. So this morning, we're just going to get this out of the way right now. I'm going to ask you this question, and I'm going to ask you all to answer it out loud on the count of three.

What are you so worried about? And then on the count of three, y'all are gonna answer. You ready? One, two, three. I thought so. Okay, yeah. You got a list, right? Very obviously, this is a worried group of people. And you have a worried pastor.

What we see in common about the things that we worry about is that they're all two things: uncertain and they're all in the future. We're not worried about what's right now. This feeling of anxiety, this action of worry is always about what's in the future and what's potential, what could be. It's an obsession with future possibilities. That's why Jesus says it's about one word: tomorrow. It's about tomorrow.

And there are so many stupid things that we say to each other when we see one another worried. We say things like, "Don't worry about it." We tell our kids, "There's nothing to worry about." That may be the biggest doozy of the whole thing, right? There's nothing to worry about? That's not even true. You just told me all the things there are to worry about.

So I want to think back again to the original people that Jesus was preaching to. Jesus was talking to a group of first-century people who lived season to season. Are we going to have enough? One drought, one failed crop puts them on the borderline of starvation. When Jesus was saying, "Don't worry about what you're going to eat," they weren't worried about which thing am I going to eat. They were worried: Am I going to have anything to eat? And when Jesus was saying, "Don't worry about what you're going to wear," it wasn't worry about which of my things am I going to wear and will those pants fit? But rather, will I have something actually to put on my body? Garments were so valuable, they were passed down from generation to generation.

And yet, here's the thing that's so amazing to me. We couldn't be in a different circumstance. We don't worry about whether we'll have food; we worry about what's in our food. And yet, Jesus is talking as much to them as to us today because we are still people who are filled with worry, no matter how different our circumstances.

And Jesus doesn't say to us—He doesn't say to them—"Hey, nothing to worry about." There's always something to worry about. Instead, Jesus helps us understand worry. Now, I know that there are anxiety disorders. I know that there are very special circumstances for particular people, but this is something that hits all of us. We're all on a spectrum of this. So I want to speak to this in terms of how Jesus addresses us in our worries.

Worry Is Something We Do

He helps us understand it. First, this worry is something that we do. Now, normally, we preach from the New American Standard Bible in our congregation, and I like it because it's really close to the Greek. But this is one passage where I like another translation better. We read this morning from the CSB. For this reason, the NASB and lots of other translations say, "Do not be worried. Do not be anxious." And it sounds like worry is something that sort of happens to us, that's outside of us. It's like this worry cloud that somehow settles over you. But the tense of this verb is actually really captured well in this particular translation: "Do not worry." In other words, it's something that we do. It's an activity that we do. It's not something that we're just victims of. That's why we're reading it from this translation. I want you to understand how worry is an action. It's something we are doing.

Now that right there should get our attention, right? I mean, nobody—that's not how we experience this often. How many of you get up one morning during the week and think, "I think I'm going to be filled with worry today. I can't wait to worry all day long"? No. Or what do you experience when you wake up in the middle of the night and your brain is just on and you're just churning? Can you say to yourself, "Hey, self, stop it," and just be like, "Oh, okay, I'll go back to sleep right now"? We experience worry as if it's something that happens to us, and yet Jesus says our worry is something that we do. It's something that we do.

But here's what the good news is: Jesus doesn't leave us there.

Since worrying is something we do and we aren't aware we're doing something, Jesus asks us a question. Why? Why do you worry about these things? Why are you worrying about these things? Why do you fret? Why are you obsessed about potential future? Why do you have your nose to the grindstone? Why do you brood or get preoccupied or like your pastor, furrow brow, knit eyebrows, bend over? Why are you like that?

And we always—if that was a quiz that Jesus was asking us—we always get that answer wrong. We always say, "Well, I'm worried because of blank," and you fill out your list. Don't have enough money for this auto repair. My mom is sick. I don't know how my kid's gonna get through this school year. We fill out that list with things that we would say, "Oh, that's why I'm worried."

But Jesus refocuses our attention back to self. He's showing us you worry because something about you, not because of the things that you worry about. It's something that's in you. So we need to think about our worry.

Notice what is entirely absent from the worrier's world. Not what but who? God. Worry thinks too little of God and worry minimizes what God thinks of us. Worry thinks too little of God and worry minimizes what God thinks about us.

This is why Jesus says, "Oh, you of little faith." Now, what he means by that is not that if you're a Christian, you can't be a person who worries. He's not saying you're of little faith. He's not saying you don't have any faith. You're not a real believer if you worry. But rather, let's use the metaphor of your smartphone.

Why do you all have one of these devices? Don't get it out right now. But in the top right corner, there's the little thing that you are very aware of lots of times: the battery. You know when your phone flashes up the low power warning, right? You need to put it into low power mode. You know what happens when it's like 10%, and you know you're not gonna get to charge this thing for a long time. Some of you are masters at knowing how to make sure that battery lasts as long as it can. Turn off your Bluetooth, right, dim your screen. If you need other suggestions from your pastor about how to make your battery life last longer, come talk to me after the service.

But the reality is our faith is like the battery life on these things. Worry has a way of being in synchronous relationship with the battery life on our faith going way down, being really low. This passage is one of my favorites. It's so beautiful because in a sense, Jesus is sort of plugging us back in and charging us back up and saying, "Look, of course, there are lots of things to worry about, but you have better reasons not to worry."

So can we go to the word this morning because worry thinks too little of God and minimizes what God thinks of us and charge our hearts this morning with what God, what Jesus says to us about how we think about our worry. Let me give you six reasons not to worry this morning. Six reasons not to worry.

Taking Control Back From Worry

I'm gonna give you this image before we go into each of those. It's like you've been doing this all week. You've been playing air traffic controller of your own life. You know how an air traffic controller is up in the tower and it's timing all the flights coming in and out of RDU and making sure the planes are in the right order and nothing crashes. You have been doing this all week. You have climbed up in the tower of your life. "I've got this. I'm in control of things and I think I can handle this." And your life feels chaotic and uncertain. So Jesus is saying, "Hey, can I climb up into the control tower for you this morning? Can I be the air traffic controller?" So let's listen to what he has to say.

First, don't worry because there are things in your life that are way more important than your worries. This is why Jesus says to us:

Isn't life more important than food and the body more than clothes? — Matthew 6:25

Aren't there things more important than the things that you're worried about? Remember, worry is about things that are future and uncertain—potentialities—and yet there are realities of what your life is like that are more important than the things you're worried about.

So let's do a thought experiment this morning. Today is 08/28/2022. I want you to think back five years ago to 08/28/2017. How many of you can remember what you were worried about that morning? Anybody? Nobody? Okay, one person right there.

Now let's go back ten years. Let's go back to 08/28/2012. Anybody remember what they were worried about that morning? Oh, let's go back twenty years. Some of y'all like, "I need to know what even happened then?" But let's go back twenty years—08/28/2002. Anybody remember what they were worried about in 2002? I mean, even part of 2002? Y'all remember 2002?

Well, here's my point.

You know, our worries, they're significant to us. They're big to us but we can't even remember our former lists. We don't remember the things that we were worried about even some months ago on a particular day. And it tells us like there are things that are more certain and real in your life than the list of things that you are worried about this morning. Things like this, the change of the seasons, the certainty of eternal life with Christ, the constancy of God.

I will never leave you or forsake you. I the Lord do not change. I will never never never forsake you.

Like there are things—relationships even—that we can look on. This is more certain and lasting and important than my list. So don't worry because some things are more certain than your worries. Something—lots of things—are way more important. Isn't your life more than food and the body more than clothes?

Don't Worry: Look at the Birds

Second, don't worry, look at the birds. Now this may sound insulting at first. I mean, Jesus says, look, God takes care of birds, they don't sow or reap or gather grain into barns. Are you not of more value than they? And I remember hearing this the first time and going like, wait, I'm not more valuable than birds. I'm not more valuable than pigeons. Thanks God. I hope I'm more valuable than pigeons.

But see what Jesus is doing, he's getting to the problem with my heart. Really, Jeff? You don't believe that you're more valuable to God than the pigeons. That's what you actually think. I mean, deep down, let's get honest here. Church is a great place to be honest for once. Deep down, we don't believe that God loves us or values us or cherishes us more than pigeons, more than birds.

Deep down, I have a heart and I'm betting this morning, I was like betting man, I could bet this is a sure win. I'm betting you have a heart that's filled with unbelief about how much your father actually loves you. Deep down, we don't believe that God is really for us. Deep down, we're like Adam and Eve in the garden here like, God is not out for my best interests. Surely God is against me.

Here's how you apply this bird argument to your heart. I want to encourage you to—we have a few attorneys in our congregation. I want everybody to be an attorney this morning with your own heart. And to begin arguing with yourself, to begin arguing with yourself where you say things like this: heart, you know that God knows what you need. You know that God cherishes you and loves you. Heart, you know that God is not stingy with his kids. He is not holding back his best from you.

He who did not spare his own son but freely gave him up for us all. How will he not along with him freely give us all things? — Romans 8

Argue with yourself. Argue God's love. That's the bird argument.

Don't Worry: Worry Doesn't Work

Number three, don't worry because worry doesn't work. Some of you are like, yeah, really, I know. But listen, Jesus says:

Which of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

Now this is the hardest one to preach because Americans believe we can add extra hours to our lives. This is why we're all concerned about having like pure foods and exercising and sleeping enough and being really healthy because we think we can add extra to our life. But this is a hard truth, and I want to remind you of this: we all know people who died in a car accident. We all know people who died of a sickness or condition that they never saw coming.

And what's funny is we come to these funerals. You go to a funeral of somebody who's young and you say, oh, that person's life was cut short. But is that true? The Bible tells us that God knows the number of your days. I remember I had a friend in Philly and one of his best friends had died and he had tattooed on his arm right here, the number of days that she lived to remind himself, everybody has a number. Everybody has a number and God knows what that number is. And whether or not we think that's long or short, it's in God's hands. The length of your life is in God's hands.

And this is what Jesus is speaking to in this passage. He says:

Which of you by worrying can add a cubit to his span?

Literally, a cubit was from your elbow to the end of your fingers. This is a cubit. And it was actually the distance that they measured a walking pace. So like this is the span of your feet when you walk. So Jesus is saying, which of you by worrying can add one extra step to your life? Go one step beyond that number that God has for you. Which of you by worrying can do that?

I mean, the reality is we know, our doctors tell us by worrying, we're actually probably doing the opposite, not adding but taking away. Right? But here's how you apply the lifespan argument to your life. Right? You argue God's sovereignty over your heart. Again, with your heart you have this conversation. You say, my life, God. My life is your project, not mine. Our marriage is your project, not mine.

My kids are your project, not mine. You pray to the Lord, "Lord, I'm handing you the blueprints of my life. I have these perfectly drawn blueprints for how I thought things were gonna go. This is the way it has to be." No, Lord, you have them. You pray, "Lord, I know that you are building something better with my life than I could build. And in my wisdom, I know what that should be. I trust you."

Argue God's Provision

See, argue the lifespan. Number four, don't worry, look at the flowers. Now, again, what is Jesus talking about? Some translations will render this the lilies of the field, which sounds like you're headed over to the arboretum that's owned by NC State JC Rawson Arboretum, my favorite place to go in Raleigh. For real, it's significant and awesome. You want a good day? Go over there and everything is perfectly manicured. There's a little army of people who take care of that garden to make it look like it is.

But Jesus—I love how this translation renders it—wildflowers. The emphasis is on "of the field." In other words, we're not talking about perfectly sculpted rose bushes. We're not talking about lilies that are raised up from bulbs, really well tended. We're talking about those kind of weed flowers. The ones that grow up through the sidewalk, the ones where you're like, "I can't get anything to grow in my yard but that's growing and I don't even want to hear it." That's what Jesus is talking about. God tends those things. God is watering them. God is caring for them.

There's a documentary that came out a couple years ago about the Chernobyl nuclear accident. Some of y'all have no idea what I'm talking about, but in 1986—which is big news for me, I was in high school—Chernobyl, the nuclear plant in Ukraine, had a core meltdown, a huge disaster. It was a Soviet state at that time as they went in and tried to cordon off this whole area, evacuate people out of it. It was really, really bad.

Well, there's a documentary that's come out more recently in the last couple of years about it, going into the causes, what happened. But more importantly for us this morning, they showed drone footage, current day drone footage of the Chernobyl Nuclear Site. And what's fascinating—do you know what's growing in the Chernobyl Nuclear Site? Trees. Tons of trees. It's like a little lush forest of trees.

So can I ask you, who's cutting and who's the arbor master who's taking care of those trees? Who's watering them? Who's planting those perfectly and making sure that they grow? God. God is providing for them. God is caring for them, and this is what Jesus is arguing with us. If God cares for the weed trees and the weed flowers, can't he care for you?

So again, you need to argue with yourself. Here's how you argue: you argue God's provision into your heart. "God, this is not working out the way I thought was my best for my life, but you have said you are working all things for my ultimate good."

All things work together for the good of those who love God — Romans 8

So I'm gonna trust your script for my life over my script. I'm laying down my agenda for this day and this week, for what I thought today would bring, and I'm trusting that you are the author and provider of my life. You're arguing God's provision.

God Is Your Father

Five, don't worry because God is your father. Don't worry because God is your father. Now, this probably doesn't come as a big surprise to you if you really think about it much. But let me talk about my kids and your kids. For those of you who have kids in our church—I hate to tell you this, it's not very nice—but I'm not really worried about your kids' grades. I don't care that much. I mean, I like them. I like your kids, but I'm not really worried about them. I'm not worried about whether they'll have friends. Sorry, I should be. That's not a very nice pastor thing to say, but I don't really worry about that. I'm not worried about their health. Maybe I should be, but I'm not worried about that.

Why is that? Because I'm not their daddy. I'm not devoted to your kids in the same way I'm devoted to my kids, and I don't expect that you're way up late at night worrying about my kids' grades, my kids' friends, my kids' health. I assume that if you're a parent, you're devoted to your kids, and that's appropriate. But God—God is devoted to his kids. God is devoted to his kids.

This is an argument from the lesser to the greater. If God cares for birds, if God cares for begonias, can God care for you? Does God care for you?

I mean, I love this short poem. This is by Elizabeth Cheney, titled "Overheard in an Orchard." Listen to how well she captures Matthew chapter six. This is what she said: "Said the robin to the sparrow, I would really like to know why these anxious human beings rush around and worry so."

Said the sparrow to the robin, friend, I think that it must be that they have no heavenly father such as cares for you and me. In one of his gospels where Jesus teaches something similar, he argues from the greater to the lesser. He says this:

Fear not little flock for it is the father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. — Luke 12:32

Look, I just want you to understand: how pleased was God to give his people the kingdom? This is how pleased—that he would send his son to the cross. He would have Jesus come in human flesh and live a life of incredible obedience for thirty years and give up his life on a cross for us. That's how pleased he was to give us the kingdom.

So if God cares enough to send his son for you, to give you the kingdom, can we trust him with our bills? Can we trust him with our relationships? Yes. Can we trust him with our health?

You know, worry says, "God may be able to handle taking you to heaven, but he can't handle life on earth." It tells you worry says, "God is good for eternity, but not for this life on earth, not for the present." It whispers, "God delivered you from damnation, but he can't work out the details of your life. God is not trustworthy."

This is why Jesus says it's the Gentiles who live like this—the Gentiles who don't even know who God is, who think God is a cosmic thug out to get them. But Jesus reminds us that we, who by contrast, have a heavenly daddy who knows us, who cares more about us than you care about your kids and I care about my kids. He would no sooner neglect you than what you would neglect your kids. He's neither capricious nor distant. He has always been and always will be a good father who cares for us more than we can hope or we can imagine.

Worry just shrinks down what God thinks of us and we shrink down who God is.

Don't Worry Because God Promises You Himself

Last one here. Number six: don't worry because God promises you himself, and this is maybe the best part of the whole thing. God is not just providing for you that you might have salvation. He wants to give you himself—more and more of him. This is the best of the reasons not to worry.

Your father knows you need these things. But if you preoccupy yourself with his kingdom, with knowing him as he wants to give himself to you more and more all the time, he'll take care of the rest. — Matthew 6:32-33

Let me close with this. During the pandemic, I read a short article by a woman named Alison Groff called "Now I Know What My Grandparents Were Talking About." And she wrote this right at the beginning of the pandemic as she was at home with her college-age kids who were all stuck at home and trying to make sense of the world. This is what she writes:

"I feel like there is nothing left to look forward to." That's what my 19-year-old daughter said to me across the table from me, her eyes heavy with dread. She's been struggling like all of us with the existential purgatory we find ourselves waiting through. The not knowing of when this will end or how, or what we as a culture, or a country, or a community will be when it does.

Along with her sister who's 18, she's moved back home from college, college that is now over in a practical sense for the foreseeable future. My girls, like countless of the world's children, have been wrenched from routines and friends, the architecture of their lives dismantled and replaced with a return to the orbit of parents. Parents who can't themselves say what's coming, parents whose ability to comfort is muted and undermined by the speeding train of the virus and the whirlwind of devastating news.

I tell my 19-year-old that I understand her feeling lost, her feeling empty. She shakes her head and retreats upstairs to cry maybe. I understand. I'm envious even. I like to cry, ball myself into a knot of grief. Instead, I take a shower, make coffee, put on lip gloss like it matters. By the time I emerge from the bathroom, my daughters are in the yard lying on a blanket together reading. I watch them from the window, hip to hip, both prone on their stomachs, knees bent and feet circling in the air, like they did when they were still children, which of course they still are. The sun shines bright on their skin, the birds chatter above, the buds bloom on the trees around them as if to say, we cannot be contained.

Now, I love that image. I don't know Alison Groff and whether she's a Christian or not, but she so perfectly captures the posture of a child of God. In the face of worry, in the face of fear, in the face of uncertainty, going back to a place of safety and going back to a posture of trust—like a child laying prone in the grass on her stomach, legs up in the air, feet circling, acting like a child, which of course she still is, which of course we all are.

Would you pray with me? Father God, we come to you and thank you for your word which meets us right where we are.

Of course, we all have worries that we are carrying into this place this morning. Lord, we're all filled with fear and uncertainty. There are things that we can't control and we're tired of trying to and we don't know another way.

Father, we pray that you would teach us the posture of a child, the posture of a child who has a heavenly father. Lord, teach us what it means to trust in you and to live in vital relationship with you. Calm our worrying fearful hearts this morning.

We pray these things in Jesus name. Amen.

Let's stand and respond to God's word together as we sing.