Luke 12:22-34 - Anxious? - August 7, 2022

When you’re really anxious or worried about something, what’s the last thing you want someone to tell you? And I’m not talking about some silly thing that might cause anxiety, like the possibility that the Packer’s kicker will miss the game-winning field goal or that it might rain on your party. No, I’m talking about those times when you’re seriously anxious about a very serious thing: when your child has spiked a fever in the middle of the night, when you’ve lost your job, when the bills seem overwhelming, when the doctors don’t have any answers. Have you ever been anxious about these things and had someone tell you, “Don’t worry about it”? How do you want to respond? “Oh, just shut up.” But today it’s not just anyone telling us not to worry, it’s Jesus. And he’s not just offering up empty words or a useless cliché, he’s telling us; commanding us: don’t worry about it – but please fight the urge to tell him to shut up, because unlike anyone else who says those words, Jesus has answers for our anxiety.

Why is the worry, the anxiety that plagues us all in one way or another such a serious problem? I could point to studies that document the harmful psychological and physical effects anxiety has on a person: the sleepless nights, panic attacks, heart disease, inability to focus. Ours is an anxious culture. It’s probably no coincidence that anti-anxiety drugs are among the most prescribed medications in our country and the leading OTC medications are for sleep and stomach disorders. Anxiety is ruining our minds, our stomachs and our sleep. But I’m not a doctor or a psychologist. We’re here to deal with the far more serious spiritual effects of anxiety. Spiritually speaking, anxiety is idolatry. It is the worship we offer to false gods, the idols that promise us health, wealth, happiness, identity, security and meaning for our lives – and the liturgy consists of sleeplessness and restlessness and ulcers (among other things). Like all other idols, the idol of anxiety consumes its worshipers. Anxiety is a cancer of the soul.

How did we get here? Our text follows the Gospel lesson from last week: the Rich Fool (Luke 12:13-21). Knowing that his disciples likely suffered from the same misplaced focus on earthly wealth and security as the rich fool did, and who were likely wondering how a person living in this fallen world could possibly not worry about those things – Jesus addresses the problem directly: “For that reason I tell you, stop worrying about your life, about what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. Why not? Certainly life is more than food, and the body is more than clothing. Jesus’ logic is bulletproof, isn’t it? Food might energize and sustain life – but it’s not life itself (people die every day surrounded by food). Clothing covers and protects us, but you are not what you wear, no matter what social media or the fashion industry says.

Worry is illogical for believers. Consider the ravens, Jesus says, they do not sow or reap; they have no warehouse or barn; and yet God feeds them. The birds of the air don’t plant or harvest their own food; they don’t store it up in pantries or bank accounts – they are utterly reliant on God for their food on a daily basis. In this way, they are a picture of faith. Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. But I tell you, not even Solomon in all his glory was dressed like one of these. The flowers of the field don’t spend hours shopping online, trying to find just the right article of clothing at just the right price. They don’t carry wads of Kohl’s cash around. They don’t have walk-in closets bigger than many 3rd-world homes. And yet God makes them more beautiful than any fashion designer ever could. Like the birds, they are a picture of faith.

From these illustrations Jesus draws his grand conclusion: if this is how God clothes the grass in the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, how much more will he clothe you, you of little faith? Do not constantly chase after what you will eat or what you will drink. Do not be worried about it. (It’s kind of tempting to just tell him to shut up, isn’t it?) But just think: does your anxiety put food on the table? Does it clothe you or your children? Can it add one minute to your life? (It might shorten your life, it that were actually possible (it’s not – Psalm 31:15), but does your anxiety add anything to your life except sleepless nights, restless days, headaches and heartache and heartburn?) Up here, we get it, right? Intellectually, we understand that worrying is foolish and useless. It makes sense that the God who takes such good care of birds and flowers would take even better care of us, the crown of his creation. But the question still stands: why, then, are we so anxious about food and drink and clothing and shoes?

Jesus’ question contained the diagnosis. Did you catch it? Little faith. Our anxiety symptomatic of the littleness of our faith and the largeness of our unbelief. That’s what really doesn’t make any sense, right? We trust God for the big things – forgiveness of sins, resurrection from the dead and eternal life. Those are things so big we can’t wrap our minds around them – much less do anything to achieve them (which is probably why we trust him with those things – kind of like we trust airline pilots to know what they’re doing, because we don’t have a clue). But what doesn’t follow is that we don’t trust the same God who has taken care of the big things for the little things; for food and clothing and shelter. Why don’t we trust him for these small things? Why do we let anxiety crowd God out of our hearts?

First and foremost, it’s because we lack true repentance. Now stick with me here. Because worry and anxiety are so ubiquitous and universal – everyone worries about something – we are tempted to not even view it as sin; “Everyone is doing it, it can’t be that bad.” We may confess it as foolish and pointless, but how often do we recognize it as a sin against the 1st Commandment. Anxiety is the very worst kind of idolatry – that of idolizing ourselves in place of the one, true God. Anxiety is the idolatry of raising ourselves above God; of exalting ourselves as gods when we imagine that our daily bread is provided by our blood, sweat and tears rather than by our good and merciful Father in heaven (James 1:17). The sin of anxiety is no less serious than the sin which got Satan kicked out of heaven and banished to hell forever (Jude 6; Revelation 12:7-9). It’s a form of pride. It’s faith in ourselves rather than faith in God – and for that we must repent.

But that’s just one side of the coin. It’s not just that we fail to recognize anxiety as a sin against the 1st Commandment; as the sin of idolatry – but that we fail to trust that our Father in heaven really loves us and will really provide for us. As Jesus said, we get caught up with the rest of the world in chasing after all these things – failing to recognize that [our] Father knows that we need them. God really does love us and really will care for us! That’s a promise that we can stake our lives on. More than anything in the world, that is what we should be sure of even though we may not see it the moment (Hebrews 11:1). But there’s still a problem, isn’t there? We may understand logically that we are more valuable than the birds of the air and the flowers of the field; we may confess our anxiety and worry as idolatry and know that we should trust our Father’s promises – but…the worry and anxiety are still there, aren’t they? Why? Because the antidote for anxiety isn’t found in our minds, our lips or our hearts. (Just consider our introduction – when someone tells you not to worry, isn’t the result that you end up worrying more?) The law can diagnose the problem, but it can’t solve it.

So what is the perfect prescription? Let’s rewind for a minute, back to the birds of the air and the flowers of the field. While they don’t sow or reap or store up or labor or spin or worry – that doesn’t mean they’re lazy. The birds are constantly busy flying around gathering the food the Lord provides. The flowers of the field reach down into the soil and up to the sun – gathering in the nourishment the Lord provides. In other words, faith (which is the opposite of anxiety) isn’t idle. It’s living and active. Ironically, you could say that the cure to worrying about the wrong things is worrying (or focusing on) the right things. And Jesus points in two directions in which this faith is living and active.

First, continue to seek the kingdom of God. Two questions arise: 1) what is the kingdom of God; and 2) how do you seek it? God’s kingdom not a nation with borders and laws and armies. The kingdom of God is his rule in the hearts of believers. And God’s reign is focused on Jesus, on how he broke into this anxious and worried world and conquered it with perfect faith in his Father. Consider how many things Jesus could have been worried about. To the naked eye, he was born out of wed-lock (Luke 3:23) – he could have worried about his image and reputation. He lacked food in the wilderness for 40 days while he was tempted (Luke 4:2) and he never really had a place to lay his head, a place to call home (Luke 9:58). Jesus could have worried about how severely his friends would be tempted and whether or not they would fall from faith – just as we do with friends and family – but instead, he prayed (Luke 22:31-32). Unlike us, Jesus knew exactly how he would suffer and when he would die – and yet instead of idly worrying about it, he poured out his heart to his Father (Luke 22:39-46). In other words, Jesus had every reason we do to be anxious and worried – but he wasn’t – and his worry-free life is now yours. When God looks at you he doesn’t see an anxious idolater who has wasted countless hours trying to knock him off his throne – but his Son’s life of perfect fear, love and trust.

And when the King of creation ascended the throne of the cross, not only did he have nothing to eat, but he thirsted for just a drop to wet his tongue (John 19:28). He was stripped of every scrap of clothing, so that, unlike the flowers, he had no attractiveness and no majesty (Isaiah 53:2). And yet, in allowing everything to be stripped, ripped and taken from him, Jesus gave us everything; everything the kingdom of God contains: forgiveness, life and salvation. For Jesus’ sake your Father is pleased to give you [this] kingdom. And you seek and find these blessings in God’s kingdom right here. In baptism he gives you the passport which proves your citizenship in his kingdom. In Absolution he rips off the tattered rags of your anxiety and worry and clothes you with the fabulous robe of Jesus’ righteousness. In the Lord’s Supper he feeds you with food that will never perish or run out. And if your Father gives you those big, eternal things, how could you ever doubt that he will take care of the little things like clothing and food and shelter?

But I mentioned that anti-anxiety faith is active in two ways – rather, Jesus did. Sell your possessions and give to the needy. Provide bags for yourselves that do not become old, a treasure in the heavens that will not fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. Now, it seems counterintuitive that giving your things away could alleviate anxiety, but the last sentence explains the preceding. By your charity and generosity you are exercising your faith, your trust that your true treasure is already locked away safely in heaven. When you can allow earthly possessions to pass through your hands like water or wind, trusting that your Father will continue to provide day by day, then it will become clear to you that God has double-vaxxed and boosted you against that deadly virus called anxiety; that you believe and trust that where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

I don’t know about you, but when people tell me not to worry, I usually want to tell them to shut up. Today is different. Jesus diagnoses why we worry and explains why we shouldn’t. We worry because we lack repentance and faith. Worry is looking inward instead of outward to the God who loves us and has promised to care for us. But we shouldn’t worry and we don’t have to – because our Father has not only proven his love by caring for birds and flowers but by sending his Son to take the root cause of our anxiety – our sins – away. This doesn’t mean that sources of anxiety won’t continue to surround you every day; it just means that you don’t have to worry about them. Amen.