Chapter 16

Matthew 6:25–34

LISTEN to the Story

25“Therefore I tell you, 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? 26Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?1

28“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor2 was dressed like one of these. 30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire,3 will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness,4 and all these things will be given to you as well. 34Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”5

Listening to the text in the Story: Genesis 1–2; Exodus 16; Psalm 19; Matthew 10:9–15; 1 Peter 5:7.

God is the Creator and Sustainer. Too often we believe like theists (a personal God) and act like deists (a distant, impersonal, noninteractive, uninvolved god). We say we believe in God, trust in God, and are sustained by God; but in our actions we do everything for ourselves, trusting in ourselves and anxious about the providence of God, which unravels our theism. We believe that God not only gives life but is life itself, and that belief means that every breath we take and every moment of life we live comes from and is sustained by the creator God. Without venturing into pantheism (all is God) or a softer version in panentheism (God is in all), the Christian faith affirms that all of life in the entire cosmos is from God and is sustained by God. God, then, is actively at work in all of life.

This is why the ancient Israelites prayed to God for provisions and thanked God for the provisions they had. This is why the entire framework of blessings and curses (Lev 26; Deut 28) finds its way so deeply in the Bible’s understanding of how life works: since God is Creator, and since God is responsible for sustenance, the presence and absence of provisions are acts of God.

This is not to say there is a one-to-one correlation of obedience and provision because God’s world is more flexible and complex than this. As Job teaches us, sometimes God withholds blessing in order to test. As the exiles in Babylon reveal, sometimes God’s entire people suffer because of the sins of its leaders even when some have been faithful. And as prophets like Amos and Haggai warn, sometimes the poor suffer because the powerful exploit and oppress. An abundance of possessions can create anxiety, as Hillel once said (“the more property, the more care” [m. ʾAbot 2:7]), while their absence can also create anxiety.

Deep in the heart of the biblical Story is the conviction that the creator God provides. Nothing makes this more manifest than the famous manna and quail story of Exodus 16 and God’s sustaining of Elisha (2 Kings 4:42–44), two depictions of God’s provision outdone only by Jesus’ feeding miracles (Matt 14:13–21; 15:32–39; John 6:5–13) and by the Eucharist itself (Matt 26:17–30). This deep source of provision in the God who cares (cf. Lev 25:18–24; 1 Pet 5:7) summons us to trust God for provision in Jesus’ ministry.

For sale on the wall in nearly every Christian bookstore and then found sometimes on the walls of Christian homes is a picture of an old man or an old woman bowing in thanks over a small loaf of bread. This posture of thanks reminds us that God cares and provides. A careful reading of our text in the context of Jesus’ own radical itinerant ministry prompts us to think that our full pantries and refrigerators are playing a different game than the one Jesus and his followers played. These are words for radicals about a radical lifestyle of trusting God for the ordinaries of life while devoting oneself unreservedly toward the kingdom mission. This leads us to think of the Nazirite vow (Num 6:1–21), of the rugged (not romantic) realities of Psalm 23, and of John the Baptist’s minimalist diet in the wilderness (Matt 3:4). This passage is designed to make us feel uncomfortable about our lifestyle.

EXPLAIN the Story

Jesus continues with the themes of 6:19–24: the danger of possessions and their capacity to become idols that demolish faithfulness and mission. The good treasure, the sound/generous eye, and the one true master will morph in 6:25–346 to be trusting God for provision in order to focus life on the kingdom and righteousness (6:33). Matthew (or Jesus) ties our passage to the previous one as if to say, if you have to choose which God you will serve, if you are to have a sound/generous eye, and if you are to store up treasures that last, then you will not worry about provisions, will trust God, and will pursue the kingdom and righteousness.

The untidy structure of our passage looks like this:

  1. 1. Prohibition, with questions (6:25)
  2. 2. Illustration 1: birds, with questions (6:26–27)
  3. 3. Illustration 2: flowers, with questions (6:28–30)
  4. 4. Prohibition repeated (6:31)
  5. 5. Two reasons for prohibition: pagans and providence (6:32)
  6. 6. Counteraction (6:33)
  7. 7. Prohibition repeated, with wisdom argument (6:34)

As can be seen from the outline, three times Jesus prohibits anxiety over provisions. He provides three reasons not to have that kind of anxiety: pagans do such things, God in his providence cares, and each day has its own problems, so let tomorrow take care of itself. This is an Ethic from Below, a rare approach of Jesus in the Sermon.

This passage requires that we remind ourselves to whom Jesus is speaking: his disciples. He is addressing not the poor as a result of a famine but instead disciples who have more or less what they need; in fact, when he sent them out later, he told them not to secure provisions or protection for their mission trips (cf. 9:35–10:14, 40–42). During that mission trip they would be taken care of by those who responded to the kingdom vision and praxis. Jesus himself was an itinerant who did not have provisions or even safety (8:18–22), but he trusted his Father to provide; he is now urging his disciples to follow him in that trust. At the heart of the Lord’s Prayer is the petition for daily bread (6:11), and that request sets the context for our passage.

Prohibition, with Questions (6:25)

Anxiety is a barometer of one’s God: those with anxiety about “life” worship Mammon, while those without anxiety worship the providing God. Teachings like these, of course, fall hard on the emotions of those who are more prone to worry than those who are careless, while the same words of Jesus are easily absorbed by shirkers. Jesus’ words are misunderstood by both: some of us need to learn to trust while others need to be more concerned in a proper way.

I suspect we need to consider this as rhetoric and not psychology; Jesus forces his disciples to get their priorities right. The term “worry,” which appears in this passage six times (6:25, 27, 28, 31, 34 [2x]), translates the Greek verb merimnaō and describes, when used negatively,7 internal disturbance at the emotional and psychological level that disrupts life. Guelich sees in this term “an anxious endeavor to secure one’s needs.”8 This term “worry” needs to be connected to the disposition of fear and little faith in verse 30.

Martha provides a living example in Luke 10:41, where this word is accompanied by another one, thorybazō, which describes agitation, disorder, and disturbance. In this text Jesus seeks to create tranquil Marys out of anxious Marthas, and it appears that Paul’s words in Philippians 4:6 are a variant on Jesus’ words.

Two Illustrations, with Questions (6:26–30)

From nature one can learn the lessons of divine providence, and some of us need to be reminded of this because we can look and not see a world alive with God’s presence. Natural theology, which is a form and extension of wisdom and an Ethic from Below, is a world unto itself. Beginning in some important ways with Aristotle but much more fully developed by the Aristotelian Roman Catholic theologians, like Aquinas, it has now taken on intense debates with arcane footnotes. Sometimes we can get lost in the philosophical discussion, and it is then that we need to come in contact with traditions like the Eastern Orthodox tradition, where the world is aflame with the presence of God. So Father Alexander Schmemann writes: “All that exists is God’s gift to man, and it all exists to make God known to man, to make man’s life communion with God.”9 The eye of faith can see in nature what Jesus saw: the providential care of the Father. Jesus’ favored form of “natural” theology was to tell parables.

Guelich reminds us that Jesus’ words here deal with eschatological providence: “Jesus sees creation in light of the presence of the new age,” and only “in light of the new age, the coming of the Kingdom, does Jesus assure his own that the Father in heaven will act on their behalf.”10 This eschatological orientation transforms Jesus’ teachings here from mere wisdom into mere kingdom, from mere provisions into mere blessings, or from an Ethic from Below to an Ethic from Beyond. The “Beyond” reshapes the “Below.”

Birds11 live from day to day, taking what they find and finding enough. Hence, they don’t manifest the anxiety of sowing and reaping and storing away for later. The Father provides for them and always has (Ps 147:9; Matt 10:29). Once again, Jesus probes his disciples with two questions: a theological question about the inherently greater value of disciples over birds and a pragmatic question about the utter uselessness for adding an hour to life by worrying.12

Next to birds Jesus sees divine providence at work in the many colorful Galilean flowers, which do not “labor” or “spin” (as in creating fabric) but are beautiful—even more beautiful than Solomon at the top of his game. Jesus probes again. He argues from the lesser (birds, flowers) to the greater (humans) and argues that if God provides for the lesser, surely he will provide for the greater. But we dare not miss the value Jesus places on humans. Hear the words of Chrysostom: “The force of the emphasis is on ‘you’ to indicate covertly how great is the value set upon your personal existence and the concern God shows for you in particular.”13

Those who are unwilling to see the hand of God in providence and trust the caring Father for the necessities of life are called “you of little faith,” a term in Matthew for faith failure, that is, those living between faithful discipleship and unbelief (8:26; 14:31; 16:8; 17:20).

Prohibition Repeated (6:31)

Jesus repeatedly prohibits anxiety. Ancient education knew the value of repetition, and an ancient Greek line went like this: meletē to pan (“practice/repetition is everything”).14 But this repetition is not so much educative as it is rhetorical: he repeats, like using a drill, in order to probe deeper.

Two Reasons: Pagans and Providence (6:32)

A rhetorically forceful argument for a Jew was to say that a given behavior was Gentile or pagan, and Jesus has already done this in the Sermon (6:7–8). But Jesus’ words are not just rhetorical; for him the pagans were the Romans who were found just north of Nazareth, in Sepphoris (where wine, women, song, theater, and opulence were the way of life) or Tiberias (in full view from Capernaum and from the traditional location of this Sermon). They provided a living example of what the disciple was not to be.

Even more, and again unlike the Roman pagan who did not trust in Israel’s God, Jesus informs his followers that “your heavenly Father knows you need” things for your life, such as something to eat and drink and something to wear. Here he appeals to providence at the level of God’s omniscience and benevolence: God both knows what you need and God will provide what you need.

Counteraction (6:33)

Jesus’ strategy for the disciple is to pursue two things: God’s kingdom15 and righteousness. Are they near synonyms? Both of these terms are central terms for Jesus, and we have already discussed both (at 5:3 and 5:6). The “kingdom” is Jesus’ shorthand expression for the Story of Israel’s hope for this world coming to completion in Jesus, and it takes place as the society that does God’s will under King Jesus is empowered by God’s redemptive work. As such, it partakes in the Story of Jesus—his life, death, burial, resurrection, and exaltation as King and Judge—and those who enter that Story through repentance, faith, and baptism are those who will enter into that kingdom reality.

When Jesus says “righteousness,” he is using a common term in the Jewish world: it describes God’s will, and those who are “righteous” are those who do that will. It means behavioral conformity to God’s will, now made known in Jesus. It is central to the Messianic Ethic. Both “kingdom” and “righteousness” are about God’s will: the first focused on the Story now realized and the second on that kingdom’s ethics. We should connect these two terms as we pray for God’s kingdom and God’s will to be done on earth as in heaven in the Lord’s Prayer.

For kingdom and righteousness the disciple of Jesus is to “seek” or “pursue.” The idea is to focus on, to want, to plot, and to act in a way that keeps one aimed at the goal—and I’m thinking of how Olympic athletes (like Allyson Felix) aim their entire life toward the gold medal. It is not unlike Jesus’ image that the one who follows him and looks back is not fit for the kingdom (cf. Luke 9:57–62). This word of Jesus isn’t legalism ramped up to the highest level, but confrontation with the messianic King, who offers his citizens the way to live the gospel-drenched life of the kingdom.

How do we “seek” the kingdom and righteousness? Luther’s strategy is this: “believing in Christ and practicing and applying the Gospel, to which faith clings,” and “this involves growing and being strengthened at heart through preaching, listening, reading, singing, meditating, and every other possible way.”16 Dallas Willard is well-known for his “VIM” strategy in spiritual formation: we need a vision, and this needs to prompt in us intention to accomplish that vision, and then we need to discover the proper means to get there. Willard’s focus is on the spiritual disciplines, which are not directly addressed here by Jesus, but his “seek” encompasses what Willard means by VIM.17 I would add to Willard’s VIM a more intentional focusing on spiritual formation as living out the Story of Jesus by absorbing that Story and practicing the disciplines, like Bible reading, Eucharist, and church calendar, that keep our eyes fixed on the Story of Jesus.18

Prohibition Repeated, with Wisdom (6:34)

Again, Jesus prohibits anxiety or “worry.” But this time he uses “tomorrow,” which becomes the basis for a bit of wisdom: “for tomorrow will worry about itself.” This is not a light dismissal but a theological perception that kingdom and righteousness require full attention each day. Tomorrow can wait; for those who let this theological vision shape their life, there will be provision. Furthermore, Jesus offers more ordinary wisdom as a reason for concentrating on the kingdom mission of Jesus: “Each day has enough trouble of its own.” But this ordinary wisdom, this Ethic from Below, is anchored in observing the providence of a loving Father.

LIVE the Story

But, and I hear this often when teaching this passage to college students, “What about the poor?” The problem has been expressed well by Ulrich Luz, who batters his readers with the standard criticisms of Jesus’ vision in unforgettable words:

It is said that every “starving sparrow” contradicts Jesus, not to mention every famine and every war; that the text gives the appearance of being extremely simpleminded; that it acts as if there were no economic problems, only ethical ones, and that it is a good symbol of the economic naïveté that has characterized Christianity in the course of its history; that it is applicable only in the special situation of the unmarried Jesus living with friends in sunny Galilee; that it is also ethically problematic, since it speaks of work “in the most disdainful terms” and appears to encourage laziness.19

In spite of the heated rhetoric and the often compassionate aims of the criticism, this text is not about those concerns. These charges may strike deeply into the heart of many Christian readings of this text, but they fail to connect to the real world of Jesus and what he is teaching in his context. Let us begin with this: Jesus assumes a world in this teaching in which his followers, while they will not have a bounty, will have enough for sustenance. His teachings here assume the ordinary provisions for life, and he instructs his followers about how to live in that kind of world.

What Jesus is saying, then, is not insensitive to many who pray for food and starve to death. He would say something else to that condition. France mistakenly states that in this passage Jesus “seems to envisage the world as it should be rather than the world as it is.”20 No, it needs to be emphasized, Jesus is not dreaming of some far-off world that does not yet exist; rather, he is seeing the world through the eyes of a first-century Galilean whose followers have access to provisions. This is not a dreamy Ethic from Beyond, but a God-drenched, prayer-infested, and obedience-shaped Ethic from Below. That stance alone explains the entire focus of this passage. To think Jesus offers here a strategy for the starving fails every time; any criticism that attacks him on that score fails as well.

Nor will it do to listen to this text, observe that God normally provides provisions through others (as in 10:9–14), and then say that the reason some don’t have provisions is because of the greed or insensitivity of others. Again, we cannot ask Jesus to tackle all problems every time he issues a press release about possessions and provisions. He was not an economist. He’s talking to first-century Galilean disciples who have access to provisions in their Galilean context. Or, we could say Jesus is speaking to mission-sent disciples with access to others who will provide for them (as is often the case in the world today), and in that context he urges them to trust God and not to focus on securing their provisions against the future.

On Mission

Learning to read passages in a realistic context can help relieve some of the tensions those texts create for us. I suggest, then, that we learn to hop over these critical tremors that come our way, and I have myself experienced this text’s tremors in the face of class after class of young college students wondering how in the world Jesus could say such things when there are people who are starving. I don’t say this insensitively toward those who suffer, but instead I say this with an eye out for those who are called by God to some mission and who need to trust God for what God is calling them to do.

There are, then, a few points we need to keep in mind when we seek to live out this Story today. We need to trust God as the creator and sustainer of all of life. We need to embrace the mission that God has given us, and “my mission” is as a husband and father, as well as professor and preacher and author. We need to dwell in the confidence that the kingdom is reaching from the future into the present world and that God promises to bless those who are indwelling that kingdom. This is not to say that each of us will always have all that we want or even what we need; rather, we must see Jesus’ teachings as they were meant to be seen: assuming the reality and availability of provisions, Jesus calls us to strike out and trust God for what we need.

As a child I grew up in a church that was big on missionaries. Every year we had a conference for missionaries, and every year we were treated to the regaling stories of conversions and the witness to the provision of God. As a seminary student I read Edith Schaeffer’s L’Abri, a book that told time and time again of how the Lord had provided for the Schaeffer family, and sometimes in the most uncanny of ways.21 There is no reason to think God doesn’t still provide for those sent on mission. More importantly, those called will learn to trust God.

Attitude

But there is something in this text about life today that transcends the one sent on mission. Jesus is probing into the heart of his followers to ask them if they value life more than kingdom and righteousness. Perhaps the best way to think about this is that Jesus doesn’t call us to be care-less about provisions but to be care-free. Some folks find in this text an opportunity to be lazy, or an opportunity to give away everything in a reckless or unwise manner. Jesus isn’t encouraging his disciples to be reckless. Instead, he’s calling them to follow him and to see that following him, or (in our text) seeking first the kingdom and righteousness, reshapes what we value most.

Money matters; without it we can’t do most things that a capitalist world requires. Provisions matter; without food or drink or clothing we don’t survive. But “matter” is not the same as “worship.” Our central ache or yearning or seeking is to be for God, for God’s kingdom, and for God’s righteousness. Those things do “matter,” but the kingdom matters even more.

Ron Sider asked the question of what is the secret to a carefree existence that lives out what Jesus teaches here.22 It begins, he wrote, when we really do believe and live out that God, the God of all, is our loving, creating, sustaining Father. Then he urged us to see that we are called to live under Jesus as our Lord. But he knew that such a life meant sacrifice and not just a mental attitude toward things: the summons not to be anxious was a summons both to trust and to entrust a life of solidarity with others, from our church to global needs, to the caring Father. This is where Sider makes one of his most famous comments ever: “What 99 percent of North Americans need to hear 99 percent of the time is this: ‘Give to everyone who begs from you,’ and ‘sell your possessions.’ ”

This is real. It gets ordinary. Every day. I was speaking at Fuller Theological Seminary in their chapel, and I spoke on the “Parable from Hell” (Luke 16:19–31). The point of my talk was that we want to know who will go to heaven and how long hell will last, but Jesus used hell language not to satisfy our curiosity but to urge us to see the Lazaruses at our gate. When I was done, Kara Powell, a wonderful professor at Fuller, and I had coffee. On our way to the local coffee shop she told me how her daughter had become wonderfully sensitive to the poor. As a result, they all had some McDonald’s coupons with them so if they saw someone in need they could help.

Then it happened. As Kara and I left the coffee shop to sit outside to chat, a beggar asked for something. Kara, knowing that beggar’s style, sat down, and we chatted. On our way back to Fuller the man was still there, and she said words I will not forget: “Hi, I’m Kara. What’s your name? I’d like to help you with these two coupons. Will you use this to buy some food?” It is easier to walk by than to help. It is easier to save than to give. The disciple of Jesus is called to see those in need and do something about it. It begins when we ask their name. Kara illustrated for me what it means to relax our grip on securing our provisions and to live a carefree existence of following Jesus into kingdom conditions.

The Birds, Our Teachers

John Stott was not only one of the finest Christian leaders and expositors of the Bible in the twentieth century, but he was also a rabid bird-watcher and photographer. All those years of watching birds led him to see all sorts of lessons about life in the birds. In his book The Birds Our Teachers, Stott found eleven lessons about life:

This will be perhaps enough concrete detail to trigger your own thinking about birds, but let me add two. From a neighbor’s blue parakeet, a story I tell in my book The Blue Parakeet,23 I learned the fastidious and nervous habits of our sparrows and how it took time for them to welcome a stranger. And from a male mallard on a roadside one day who had just lost his bride when a car struck her, I saw commitment. The male had put himself in serious jeopardy to care for his “wife” as she expired.

Indeed, the birds can be our teachers. One can peer into the hand of God in this world as well by examining flowers (and we are fond of decorative grasses, mums, and the varieties of perennials we plant), as did Jesus, but what he calls us to do here is not so much to be bird-watchers or gardeners but to be sensitive enough to stop and listen and see the hand of God at work in this world, and from that to learn that God is a loving Father who cares for us.

1. KNT: “fifteen inches to your height.”

2. KNT: “finery.”

3. KNT: “on the bonfire tomorrow.”

4. KNT: “make your top priority God’s kingdom and his way of life.”

5. KNT: “One day’s trouble at a time is quite enough.”

6. Matthew 6:25–34 is more or less found in the parallel at Luke 12:22–31, except Matt 6:34 has no parallel.

7. It is used positively, as in “cares for,” in 1 Cor 7:32–34; 12:25; Phil 2:20.

8. Guelich, Sermon on the Mount, 369.

9. A. Schmemann, For the Life of the World: Sacraments and Orthodoxy (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2000), 14.

10. Guelich, Sermon on the Mount, 370.

11. Luke has “ravens” (korakas), an unclean bird (Lev 11:15; Deut 14:14). Matthew has the more general term for “birds” (peteina). On learning from the birds, see J. R. W. Stott, The Birds Our Teachers: Essays in Orni-Theology (Wheaton, IL: Harold Shaw, 1999).

12. The word for “hour” (πῆχυν) is thought by some to mean adding height to one’s stature; the evidence supports a reference to time, hence “hour.” See Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:652–53.

13. ACCS: Matthew, 145.

14. I learned this in college from my Greek professor and have no idea of its source.

15. Matthew normally has “kingdom of heaven/s” but here has kingdom “of God,” something he has five times. On this subject see Pennington, Heaven and Earth in the Gospel of Matthew. Pennington contends that “heaven” and “heavenly” are not reverential circumlocutions but instead a kind of rhetorical counterforce: heaven stands over against earth.

16. Luther, Sermon on the Mount, 204.

17. Willard, Renovation of the Heart, 85–91.

18. McKnight, King Jesus Gospel, 146–60.

19. Luz, Matthew 1–7, 341.

20. France, Matthew, 266.

21. Edith Schaeffer, L’Abri (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 1992).

22. Sider, Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger, 102–5. Quotations are from this section.

23. McKnight, Blue Parakeet, 22–25.