The Tyranny of Tomorrow - Matthew 6:25-34

Introduction

Growing up, I spent most of my free time romping through the woods. And, I knew the woods around my house like the back of my hand. But once, I stayed out a little later than I was used to, and the darkness began to set in. All of a sudden, those woods that I knew so well had transformed into a dark world that I didn’t recognize. Every shadow looked like a monster. Every sound felt like sudden death. It felt like everything was out to get me. So, I started running and running until I made it home hardly breathing.

That’s a picture of how a lot of anxious people live every day. Every shadow looks like a monster. Every sound feels like death. They think to their past, and they regret it. They look to their future, and they dread it. They’re paralyzed in the here and now with what seems like only bad choices available for them to make. The future looks and feels like only bad news lies ahead. So, they’re running through the darkness trying to find their way home, and they can hardly even catch their breath.

God’s Word

Anxiety will ruin your life by sabotaging your peace and disabling your joy. And, here in the Sermon on the Mount as Jesus is teaching his disciples about the nature of his Kingdom, He’s wanting them — and us — to see that He has a different way for them to live. Jesus doesn’t intend for you to run through the darkness scared. He has come to shine a light on reality so that you can see the truth and walk in joy. This morning, I want to ask Three Questions to Illuminate Your Anxiety: (Headline) so that you can don’t have to run scared.

Where’s your “security found?”

Matthew 6:25–27 ““Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?”

Jesus’ command to “not be anxious about your life” doesn’t just appear out of thin air. That’s why it starts with “therefore.” It’s a conclusion of a broader teaching that insists you decide the values and aims of your life. He’s just told us that we have to choose between laying up treasures on earth that rot and are stolen or treasures in heaven where they’re safe forever. We have to decide if we will keep our eyes on the darkness of this world or focus them instead on the light of heaven. We have to decide whether our master will be God or money. “Therefore” Jesus is saying, choose God, not money. Eternal treasures, not rotting ones. Light, not darkness. And, you won’t be “anxious about your life.” You’ll be able to see your life and your struggles and your disappointments in their proper context, knowing they aren’t final or ultimate.

You’re not a “needs cup.”

Jesus is confronting our habit of reducing our lives to the needs we have. If you believe that your life is simply about waking up, earning money, buying food, buying clothes, and going to bed, you’ll be insecure. You’ll be anxious. Because those things are insecure. You’ll always be worried about having enough. You’ll live paralyzed by the potential of job loss or economic recession or disability because your needs might not be met.

And, Jesus is here talking about basic needs, isn’t he? Most of us today live with these needs as an assumption. But, for most of human history, these food, clothing, and shelter were insecure. Your great, great grandparents would’ve assumed that if you knew you had food, clothing, and shelter that you’d have nothing to worry about. But, the opposite has proven true. The more we have, the more we seem to think we need. I NEED an iPhone. I NEED a six figure job. I NEED to get my kids into private school. I NEED a new truck with leather seats. And, the more we believe we need, the more we focus on rotting treasures, the more we are slaves to money, the more we have to lose. And, the more we have to lose, the more we worry. Why? Because that’s a lot of needs to meet, and any series of unfortunate events could cost you. So, you’re insecure.

So, Jesus is pushing back to say that it’s wrong and unhelpful to see yourself primarily as a need cup that has to be filled. Because you might run out. Rather, we should see ourselves as children who are cared for so that we can live our lives with the kind of freedom that well loved children do. He points to the birds to make his point. They aren’t concerned with running out. They don’t spend their lives mitigating disaster and trying to control variables. They don’t dread tomorrow. They don’t try to control tomorrow. Every day, they just do what they were designed to do. They sing their song. They enjoy today’s gift rather than worrying they won’t have it tomorrow.

You’re a “child” of “God.”

Anxiety is always making at least one of two claims. (Even if it’s hard to say out loud.) 1) God isn’t good enough. He doesn’t care about what happens to you and is indifferent to your needs. 2) You’re not worth enough. God is good and able, but you’re too insignificant or too big a screw up to matter. Anxiety wants to convince you that you’re one of the forgotten words. And, the theology of birds unravels both thoughts. God is so good not a bird falls from the sky without his knowing. He feeds them from his hand so that they can sing. And, they’re not even his children. You are. If a nameless sparrow can depend on God, can’t his son or daughter? Let that was over you.

I have a friend who adopted a precious little girl from China years ago. When she was first acclimating to her new home, they would find where she had hidden food away. Any time her mom was away, she would panic. They realized that life in the orphanage with the insecurity of food and the transience of caregivers had created a very insecure little girl. So, one day, they took her to the kitchen after they had bought groceries. And, they opened up the pantry so that she could see it. Then, they made her a promise: “We will see to it that this pantry is always full. And, we promise you that you can always come any time you want. We’ll always be here, and you’ll always have enough.” That’s what Jesus is teaching us with the birds. That’s what has to wash over you. That’s what has to wallpaper your reality. Your Father in heaven will always make sure you have what you need to glorify him.

So, Jesus’ says, realize that worry doesn’t work. It won’t add to your life. It will rob you of your life. If you live every day worried about the insecurities of tomorrow, you’ll never be able to sing your song, enjoy your kids, or relax in God’s kindness. No, your security isn’t found in making enough or having enough or ensuring perfect safety for your children. Your security is found in your dad who cares for you and takes care of you.

Whose “burden” is “this?”

Matthew 6:28–30 “And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?”

“Worry is your brain’s way of taking control.” Jeremy Pierre It’s an attempt by your mind to account for every variable in life so that you can insure the outcome that you believe you need. It’s a hyper-vigilance that seeks to account for every ‘what if?’ that might come. ‘What if my husband leaves? What if my boss doesn’t like my proposal and I lose my job? What if my kid gets sick? What if my friend is offended and we never speak again?’

Anxiety is assuming tomorrow’s burden today. So, the anxious person is enslaved by the tyranny of tomorrow. They want to know the unknown so that they can prepare for it. But, that’s impossible. So, they wear themselves out running in the dark trying to think through every scenario and every potential hard conversation and every potential catastrophe so that they won’t be caught off guard. At best, they force themselves to live through the pain of tomorrow’s disaster before it comes that they can be relieved when it doesn’t. But, they’ve had to cope with the stress just the same any way. At worst, the catastrophe the predicted does come, and they have to live through it twice.

This is where the theology of the lilies helps us. The lilies Jesus describes are growing and flowering. They’re healthy and full of vitality. As you look at them swaying in the breeze, they share with you the tranquility they know. And, what’s interesting is to realize that they’re even more passive than the birds. The birds still have to eat, but the lilies just sway and receive. They receive the rain and the sun and the nutrients to grow. They don’t work all night trying to ensure everything is perfect. They aren’t consumed by ‘what if’s’. “What if a fire comes?” “What if a tornado comes?” No. They simply wave in the breeze God has given them today.

Grace bears the “burden.”

The picture Jesus is painting is of grace. Extravagant, unmerited kindness from God. The lilies aren’t just cared for. They’re cared for extravagantly. They weren’t just made. They were made beautifully. They aren’t just existing. They’re thriving. If we’re not going to live smothered by life’s problems or tomorrow’s threats, we have to be people who dwell on grace more than performance. Why? Because grace means that you don’t bear the burden. God does. You didn’t bear the burden of your sin. You didn’t bear the burden of the cross. You don’t bear the burden of the future. Grace has bore the burdens and secured the future. You didn’t deserve it. Your performance didn’t merit it. But, God has given it. So, you’re okay. Grace always means I’m okay.

Grace assures “tomorrow.”

Grace covers yesterday’s regrets so that I don’t have to keep worrying about them today. Grace sustains me today by giving me whatever I need to make sure that I’ll make it. Grace assures tomorrow. I don’t have to regret yesterday any more. I don’t have to catastrophize tomorrow any more. Why? I have received extravagant grace, and I’m going to wake up to fresh grace again tomorrow.

Notice that Jesus concludes talking about the lilies by saying, “O you of little faith.” Anxiety is concern about tomorrow that afflicts us today. Faith is hope for tomorrow that encourages us today. That is, faith is just as future-oriented as anxiety is. They’re two sides of the same coin, and they reveal your outlook. Anxiety pictures the future apart from God’s kindness. Faith pictures the future in light of God’s kindness. I like how Jack Sprayberry explained it to me: Anxiety is the miscalculation of fear. It fears tomorrow because it fails in its fear of God.

And, that’s how the gospel of grace sets you free from the tyranny of tomorrow. Jesus provides substantial hope for tomorrow. That’s the Good News. He doesn’t invite us to view tomorrow through the lens of assured misery as though it's dependent upon our own trembling strength. He invites us to view tomorrow through faith that He will satisfy and be found sufficient.  (On screen)“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Tomorrow “all things will work together for good.” Tomorrow resurrection is coming. Tomorrow our tears will be wiped away. The question is: Will you believe it? Will you release your trembling fingers of their grip of tomorrow and entrust it into the hands of the Almighty? Whose burden is tomorrow really? Yours or the Lords?

What’s your “chief ambition?”

Matthew 6:31–34 “Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

Jesus brings his point back to a decision you have to make. It’s the same decision that the Sermon on the Mount puts before us section after section: What kingdom are you living for? That is, what values set your ambition? You have to choose. You have to decide. And, it’s the difference between darkness and light, slavery and freedom, anxiety and peace. Will you live for what you see, or will you live for who you know? Will you live for the values of the world, or will you live for the values of the kingdom? Will you live for now, or will you live for later? From different angles, the Sermon keeps asking you to choose.

And, he does this a final time by contrasting the ambitions of the Gentiles/Pagans/unbelievers with those who are disciples of his Kingdom. He says that the Gentiles live their lives as need cups focusing on what they have and don’t have. They live worried about how much food they’ll have tomorrow or what clothes they’ll be wearing. And, that’s still what our world is aimed at. Watch the commercials and ads that pop up. You’ll find the continual appeal to the food we eat, the clothes we wear, and to the assurance that tomorrow can be what we want it to be. It’s the appeal to the faithless, the appeal to those who live seeking to build their lives up here.

But, Jesus is pushing back to say they’re luring you into slavery. They’re luring you into anxiety. They’re convincing you that your child’s birthday party has to be a certain way or that you have to attain a certain standard of living to be a success or that you need a car that you don’t need. They’re convincing you that the only way tomorrow will be okay is if you do the new fad diet or have the exotic vacation or take the right supplements. It’s too much to sort out, and you’re anxiety is the body’s way of sounding the alarm that you’re overwhelmed.

So, Jesus says, “What if you could only aim at one thing? Wouldn’t that simplify your life? Wouldn’t that eliminate all of the noise?” What if you just aimed at living for the kingdom? Man, hard times might come. But, your ambition would still be in tact. Sickness may come. But, your ambition is still in tact. You might have a nice care and fancy vacation, or you might have a jalopy and a staycation. But, your ambition is still in tact. “Seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things are add to you.” That is, “all these things” you need to live out God’s mission on your life will be given so that you can do what he has for you to do.

Anxiety reveals your “ambition.”

A while back, a dollar went missing at my house. You know, a dollar really isn’t that big of a deal, but we were pretty sure that one of our kids had stolen it. And, that’s a big deal. When I confronted the child, they lied, and I could tell that anxiety was sweeping over their body. And, I could see that one of those precious little hands was tightly clinched. When I peeled back their little fingers, I found the dollar that was missing. Your anxiety often reveals what you’re holding close-fisted before God. Your preoccupation and obsessive thoughts show you what you’re having trouble trusting him with. It reveals what we most want. It could be like my kid, and it could be money. You never have enough, and you aren’t sure you ever will. So, you hold it tight-fisted, and your ambition is to have as much as possible. It could be your kids. You try to micromanage their environment so that you can ensure they’re always safe and will never rebel. You’re holding them tightfisted before God. It could be your health or your relationship.

Anxiety is an “alarm.”

And, your anxiety is the alarm that’s telling you that you’re wasting your life trying to control what you can’t. So, Jesus says, “Replace your ambition with a greater one. Live for my kingdom.” Today’s troubles are going to come. Don’t try to outrun them. They’ll only look scarier, and you’ll only end up more tired. Instead, live for the Kingdom, and know that every second of your suffering will only seek to accomplish your ambition. So, you can be free. You’re as at rest as a bird singing its song. You’re as free as a lily blowing in the breeze. You’re free from the tyranny of tomorrow.