“Take no thought for your life,” says Jesus. “The birds don’t save for a rainy day, they don’t have pension schemes or life insurance policies, but still God feeds them – and if he feeds the birds, don’t you think he’ll feed you?” (Matthew 6:26).
“Take no thought for your life,” says Jesus. “The dandelions don’t arrange overdrafts or run up credit card bills, but just look at them!” he laughs. “Doesn’t God clothe them in the season’s brightest, brashest fashions? And if he so handsomely clothes the weeds in your lawn, don’t you think he’ll clothe you?” (Matthew 6:28-30).
These verses from Matthew 6 (even in their horrendously paraphrased forms!) have always struck a chord with me. They are words to the worrier; words to the anxious; words to the restless; words to the insecure – and maybe that in itself speaks volumes about me!
But, be that as it may, there’s no denying the power these words have to comfort and reassure those “thorny ground” types like me, who so often let the cares of life, and the deceitfulness of prosperity, choke them like thorns (Matthew 13:22).
So why then do I suddenly find myself casting a sceptical eye over Jesus’ exhortation to “take no thought” for my life? Where are the comfort and reassurance I expect to find there? Why do his words suddenly strike such a hollow note with me?
Perhaps it’s just that I’m in danger of turning, somewhat prematurely, into a grumpy, world-weary, old man! Perhaps it’s just that I’ve seen, a few too many times, the way bad stuff happens to good people – to people that I love. And, whether I like it or not, experience tells me that God doesn’t always “feed” and “clothe” us – he doesn’t always write a blank cheque to cover all our material needs.
“If God feeds the birds,” says Jesus, “don’t you think he’ll feed you?”
But just the other day, I opened my front door and found the remains of a young blackbird, delivered directly to my doorstep, by the neighbourhood’s ever-efficient feline courier service.
“If God clothes the weeds,” says Jesus, “don’t you think he’ll clothe you?”
But just the other day, I heard reports that wildfires across Scotland, triggered by the unseasonably dry weather, had destroyed acres of ancient Caledonian pine forest, and dozens of irreplaceable bird nesting sites.
Needless to say, birds, at times, do go hungry – and even those irritatingly resilient dandelions in my lawn, that mock all my best efforts to defeat them, have started to droop a little lately for want of a drop of rain!
So, like it or not, the harsh reality is that God doesn’t always “feed” and “clothe” the birds and the beasts – nor does he always “feed” and “clothe” us. Even Paul, who had the kind of intimacy with God I could only dream of, at times went hungry and without decent clothing...
Even unto this present hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no certain dwellingplace. (1 Corinthians 4:11)
Why this should be is a question for far wiser men than me. Why there is hunger, and disease, and pain, and suffering in the world is an age-old question best left for philosophers and theologians to ponder, and endlessly debate.
What’s more, I know I’d be doing Jesus a great disservice if I were to imply that he was either ignorant or indifferent to the reality of human suffering – or even animal suffering for that matter. After all, in Matthew 10:29, didn’t he say that not one sparrow, falling to the ground, is beneath God’s attention?
And, now that I think about it, if we did live in a world without tears, and troubles, and tragedy, what would be the point of telling us to “take no thought” for our lives?! The fact is, in a world like that, in a world of guaranteed health and wealth and happiness, no-one would be giving their “lives”, their welfare, their security, a second thought. In a way, far from detracting from Jesus’ message, the very presence of suffering in the world is actually what gives his message its meaning.
So just what exactly was Jesus getting at then, when he implored us – not once, not twice, but three times, in the space of just a few verses –to “take no thought” for our lives (Matthew 6:25, 31 and 34)?
Well, because life is so fragile, so fickle, so full of uncertainty, no wonder people are always “taking thought” for tomorrow, obsessing about the future, crossing bridges before they come to them, and looking for storms in every teacup; no wonder people can become so easily fixated on anything, and everything, that gives them even the vaguest sense of control over what will always be, for the most part, “uncontrollable”. I guess, in the end, what we’re all looking for is a little “solidity”, a little “permanence” – just one little corner of our lives that we can rely on and call our own.
But what I might call taking a natural interest in my future happiness and my long-term security, Jesus simply calls laying up for yourself treasure on earth – and where “treasure” is concerned, “earth” will only ever be one thing: a place “where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal” (Matthew 6:19).
And this, I’m afraid, is the crux of the matter: every thought we “take” for our lives is a thought that is squandered on something that never can be, and was never intended to be, anything other than “temporary”, “transitory”, and oh so terribly brief. If this is indeed our “treasure”, then we really are “of all men most miserable” (1 Corinthians 15:19).
But there is another kind of treasure, hidden within the crumbling “earthen vessel” (2 Corinthians 4:7) of our lives: God himself – his very life, his very essence – “an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away” (1 Peter 1:4) – the very life of God, “made manifest in our mortal flesh” (2 Corinthians 4:11). This is the “pearl of great price”; this is the treasure worth selling all to possess (Matthew 13:46).
So when Jesus said “take no thought for your life”, he said it with his eyes wide open; he said it looking life, with all its indiscriminate suffering and crippling anxiety, full in the face; he said it with eyes that saw, even in the most tragic circumstances, and the most unbearable situations, a hidden “treasure”, untarnished and untouched, by all that life could throw at him.
God grant us all the grace to lead such a “thoughtless” way of life, and walk like Jesus, calm and collected, upon these constantly churning waters of our lives.
