Kingdom Peace

Matthew 6:25-34

Good morning, Church. Grab your Bibles and Make your way to Matthew 6. We are in our 9th week of this sermon on the Mount Series.

and Jesus is going to talk a lot about what I think every one of us can relate to.

Worry.

We live in an age of worry.

If worry and anxiety were a national sport, we’d all have gold medals.

We worry about money, we worry about health, we worry about our kids, we worry about our jobs, we even worry about things that haven’t happened yet—and might never happen.

My wife- this is true- she will worry about why she isn’t worried when she doesn’t have anything to worry about.

One of my Discipleship brothers- would say thats just the woman in them.

I saw a recent study that said the number one worry for Americans right now is government corruption. Over half of Americans—54%—say they’re very worried about it. Then you’ve got the cost of living and the economy, right behind at 48% and 47%.

And get this—less than a third, about 29%, say they’re very worried about global warming. Now, I’m not saying we shouldn’t care about the planet—but come on, that’s a silly thing to lose sleep over. I mean, I’ve lived in Florida my whole life—if you think the earth’s getting hotter, just come hang out in July. We’ve been dealing with “global warming” since Genesis 3.

People are worried about everything—from Washington to Wall Street to the weather.

You ever catch yourself playing the “what if” game with God? “What if I lose my job?” “What if I get sick?” “What if my kid gets sick?” “What if the economy crashes?” “What if gas goes back up to five dollars a gallon?”

We start “what-if-ing” ourselves into a panic.

Anxiety is one of those things that doesn’t stay put. It’s like one little fire that starts in the kitchen and before you know it, the whole house is burning. Worry doesn’t just make you nervous—it multiplies problems. It spreads.

John Piper said it like this: “Think about how many other sins are connected to the root sin of anxiety. Anxiety about money will cause you to hoard or steal. Anxiety about succeeding will make you irritable and impatient with those around you. Anxiety about relationships will make you withdrawn or indifferent toward other people. Anxiety about what others think about you will make you lie or stretch the truth. If anxiety could be conquered, a mortal blow would be struck to many other sins.”

That’s so true. When you trace a lot of sin back to its root, you’ll find fear, insecurity, or worry hanging out there at the bottom.

So today, we’re going to see what Jesus says about it. We’re in one of the most practical, most freeing, and most honest passages in the whole Sermon on the Mount—Matthew 6:25–34.

Here’s the big idea: Anxiety is an opportunity to trust God. It’s a chance to stop leaning on yourself and start leaning on Him.

So lets read God’s Word together and unpack these verses.

Matthew 6:25–34 ESV

“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? 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? 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.

Pray

Think about it—every time worry rises up, it’s like a little alarm going off in your soul saying, “You’re trying to run life on your own again.” Anxiety exposes what we actually believe about God. When we worry, we’re saying with our emotions what we’d never say with our mouths: “God, I don’t think You’ve got this.”

But Jesus steps right into that moment and reminds us—He’s not just the Savior of our souls; He’s the Sustainer of our lives. He’s the kind of God who feeds birds and dresses flowers and still calls you His child.

And that’s why I love what Voddie Baucham said:

“We cannot be both warriors and worriers. The man who knows his God stands firm and acts.”

You can’t fight and fret at the same time.

You can’t claim to trust God with your life and then stay up all night trying to control every outcome.

A warrior doesn’t panic—he prepares.

He’s equipped witht the whole armor of God.

A warrior doesn’t crumble—he stands firm because he knows who’s behind him and who goes before him.

Men, listen—your family doesn’t need you to be perfect; they need you to be peaceful.

They need to see that when everything else is shaking, you’re standing firm—not because you’ve got it all together, but because you know God does.

You can’t be both the man who leads his home in prayer and the man who’s paralyzed by panic. You’ve got to pick one.

And when you choose trust over worry, you’re not just fighting anxiety—you’re leading your home in faith.

So here’s where we start today:

Point One:

Worry Is a Failure to Trust God’s Provision.

“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?” — Matthew 6:26

Jesus gives us a little backyard theology lesson. He points at a sparrow and basically says, “You see that? That bird didn’t wake up this morning with an ulcer. He didn’t open his bird-sized iPhone to check his stock portfolio. He’s not panicking about how he’ll pay for bird college.”

And yet, every day, he eats. Why? Because God—your heavenly Father—feeds him.

That’s not random kindness. That’s providence. The word “Father” is the key.

Jesus could’ve said, “God feeds them,” but He said, “Your heavenly Father feeds them.”

He’s making a point: if God provides for His creatures, how much more will He provide for His children?

John Stott put it this way:

“The birds do not worry, yet they are fed; and the flowers do not toil, yet they are clothed. Faith is the refusal to be troubled because we know we have a Father in heaven.”

When Jesus says “look at the birds,” that word look (Greek: emblepsate) means more than a glance—it means to “study intently.” He’s saying, “Go outside and pay attention. Creation is preaching a sermon about My faithfulness.”

I’ll be honest with you—sometimes I worry about the dumbest stuff.

The other day I was in a full-blown panic because I couldn’t find my phone.

I’m clicking my apple watch for the phone notification noise and its not making any noise. I’m thinking what a useless piece of junk this is.

I’m tearing the house apart—checking the counter, the couch, the fridge (don’t judge me, I was desperate).

I’m on the phone with Blair while all of this is going on.

Finally, she says, “Jordan, what are you talking to me on?”

Sure enough… there they were. Right where I put them.

And I just stood there thinking, this is my life. I’m stressed, frustrated, sweating over something that I was using the whole time.

And that’s exactly what Jesus is talking about.

We do the same thing spiritually. We panic, we stress, we lose our minds trying to control everything—while the very thing we need most is already in our possession: a heavenly Father who knows, who sees, and who provides.

Jesus says, “Look at the birds.” They’re not pacing, they’re not anxious, they’re not ripping apart their nests trying to find their keys. They trust.

And maybe that’s what He’s trying to teach us—you don’t have to panic when your Father’s got it covered.

You were made in His image. You were redeemed by His blood. If you know Him as your Lord and Savior— the Bible says we can call Him Abba— Father. Our name is written in the Lambs book of life— which is the greatest thing God can ever do for us. To give Him Himself to us for all eternity. If we can trust Him with our eternity then we can trust him with our bills. We can trust that He is going to provide everything.

My Pastor says all the time— if you don’t have it; that means you don’t need it because God provides for His children.

But here’s the problem—we don’t live like that’s true.

We say we trust Him, but we still lay awake at night pacing through every possible outcome, trying to control what only God can control.

or and I’m guilty of this— you ever worry about a meeting or a hard conversation you are going to have to have. For whatever reason— this always happens in the shower. You start playing the upcoming hypothical in your head over and over and over again.

or even better— you had a heated conversation with someone and you replay it in your head and you start thinking about all the pointed comments you should have said or could have said.

Those things aren’t from God by the way. Because none of it provides peace.

If you really believe God is your Father, that He sees you, that He provides for you, that He’s good—you don’t have to worry about any of that.

You can stop trying to be your own provider and start resting in His provision.

So the next time anxiety shows up, remember this: Jesus isn’t telling you to ignore reality; He’s trying to show you true reality.

He’s saying, “Go outside. Look at the birds.” They’re not worried about gas prices, elections, or grocery bills. They’re doing what they were made to do—trust their Creator.

And that’s the invitation for you and me—to stop trying to be in control and start trusting the One who actually is. Because when you really believe your Father’s got it, your soul can finally breathe again.

Men, let’s just talk for a second.

You’re wired by God to work, to provide, to protect, to lead.

That’s a good thing—it’s how He designed you. But somewhere along the way, a lot of us started carrying a weight God never asked us to carry.

We confuse responsibility with control.

We say things like, “If I don’t handle it, who will?” “If I don’t fix it, it’ll fall apart.” And before we know it, we’ve traded faith for frustration.

We walk around tense, angry, tired—not because life is impossible, but because we’re trying to play God.

Listen, brothers—you’re not the provider. God is. You’re not the protector. God is. You’re not the one holding your family together. God is.

Your job is to be faithful. His job is to be Father.

Charles Spurgeon once said, “Our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strength.”

Man, that’s true. Some of us are exhausted not because we’re overworked but because we’re over-worried.

We’re men though so we don’t call it worry. We might call it stress. maybe

But we’re trying to carry tomorrow’s burdens with today’s grace—and Jesus said, “Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

The problem isn’t that we don’t care. The problem is that we don’t trust. Worry is what happens when we believe in God’s power but doubt His goodness.

So maybe this week the most spiritual thing you can do isn’t trying harder—it’s trust deeper. It’s waking up in the morning and saying, “Lord, I can’t, but You can.” It’s walking into work, into that meeting, —and saying, “God, You got this.”

And I promise you this: when you start resting in His provision instead of striving for your own control, something shifts. The pressure lifts. The peace comes.

Because the warrior doesn’t panic in the middle of the fight. He trusts his Commander. He knows his supply line is secure. And he knows—no matter what’s coming—his Father’s got it.

POINT 2:

WORRY PRODUCES NOTHING AND STEALS EVERYTHING

“And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” — Matthew 6:27

Let’s just be honest—that’s one of those verses that hits you right between the eyes.

Jesus doesn’t ask it like a deep theological riddle; He asks it like a dad with some common sense: “What’s your worry actually doing for you?”

You can’t worry your way into more money, more time, more peace, or more control. You can’t stress yourself into a solution. Jesus is saying, “You’re losing sleep over something that worry can’t fix anyway.”

In Fact, I looked at one study that said constant worrying can take 3 years off of your life.

Worry is false productivity. Its like a rocking chair, it may give you something to do but it doesn’t get you anywhere. write that down.

It makes you feel like you’re doing something, but it’s all motion and no progress.

It’s like sitting in your truck revving the engine in neutral—burning fuel, making noise, but not going anywhere.

You can’t move forward when your soul’s stuck in park.

After Jesus tells us to look at the birds, He asks, “Aren’t you worth more than they?” (v. 26).

Then, after talking about the beauty of the flowers, He says in verse 30, “If that’s how God clothes 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?”

That’s what theologians call an argument from the lesser to the greater.

Jesus is saying, “If God is the kind of God who cares about the safety of birds and the beauty of flowers, don’t you think He cares about you?”

He’s pointing us to the character of the Father. Isn’t it obvious from creation that we serve a blessing, prospering God—a good, good Father who loves to provide for His kids?

If He cares for birds and begonias, surely He cares for you.

In Luke 12:32, when Jesus teaches the same truth, He actually flips it—He argues from the greater to the lesser: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom.” How pleased? Pleased enough to send His Son to the cross.

If God loved you enough to give Jesus for you, would He neglect your daily needs? Of course not.

Charles Spurgeon put it beautifully:

“Listen to the voice of the Lord speak: ‘I will help you. It is a small thing for Me, your God, to help you. Consider what I have already done. What? Not help you! I bought you with My blood. What? Not help you! I died for you. Since I have done the greater, will I not do the lesser things for you?’”

That’s Spurgeon saying what Jesus already said: If He’s done the greater, He will surely do the lesser.

According to the Bible, this should be so obvious it’s beyond question that God loves us and is for us!

Two verses come to mind—verses I hope are so familiar you could quote them in your sleep.

Isaiah 49:16 says, “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”

God says, “Even if a mom could somehow forget her child—and that almost never happens—I will never forget you.” That’s how deep His commitment runs.

Then Romans 8:32 drives it home: “He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all, how will He not also with Him graciously give us all things?”

In other words, what more would God have to do to prove His commitment to you?

Let me put it this way—this reminds me of Judah when we’re on vacation. We’ve spent the whole day at Disney World, walked 18 thousand miles, sweated through our clothes, and now it’s thirty minutes past dinnertime. And sure enough, from the back seat I hear, “Dad, are we not going to eat?”

And I’m like, “You think I brought you all the way to Disney World to starve you? You think I spent all this money, stood in a two-hour line to ride a star wars ride for 3 minutes, just to forget to feed you? Surely if I care enough to bring you here, I care enough to feed you while you’re here.”

Not that this has happened recently, of course…

But seriously—if an imperfect dad like me won’t forget to feed his kids, how much more can we trust our perfect Father to take care of us?

Surely if God cared enough to send His Son to die in humiliation for us, we can trust Him with our bills, our marriages, and the future of our families.

The great theologian John Owen once said, “What greater insult can there be to God than to distrust His care after all He has done for us?”

That’s what anxiety really is for a Christian—it’s completely irrational. It means you believe God can take you to heaven but can’t handle you on earth. That He’s strong enough to save you for eternity but not sufficient to sustain you through Tuesday.

It means you believe He delivered you from eternal damnation but might drop the ball on your day-to-day details.

You’ve got to choose—you either believe in the God of the Bible, or you don’t.

That’s why Jesus brings up the Gentiles in verse 32.

He’s saying, “That kind of worrying? That’s what unbelievers do.”

In other words—“You’re acting like an atheist.” Or at best, like some pagan who thinks God’s a moody Viking you’ve got to keep happy so he doesn’t smite you.

But you—you’ve got a heavenly Father. A good Father. One who loves you more than you love your own kids.

He’s not going to forget you or neglect you any more than you’d forget to feed your kids.

So stop acting like an atheist! You can’t really believe in the God of the gospel and still live crushed by anxiety—at least not for spiritual reasons.

Paul says the same thing in Philippians 4:6: “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

What helps me is remembering that this is a command—not a suggestion.

Be anxious for nothing. In Matthew 6 alone, Jesus tells us not to worry four times. And “Fear not” is the most repeated command in the whole Bible.

Now, here’s the logic: the only way those commands make sense is if God actually plans to handle the things we’re worried about. Right?

If we’re headed to lunch and you say, “Man, I forgot my wallet,” and I say, “Don’t worry about it,” that only makes sense if I’m picking up the tab.

If the bill comes and I shrug and say, “Well… that’s awkward,” and you say, “But you said not to worry about it!” and I go, “Oh, I didn’t mean I’d pay—I just wanted you to feel peaceful while you starved,” that would be cruel.

The only way it makes sense for God to tell us not to be anxious is if He’s already got it covered.

So instead of being anxious, Paul says, “In everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”

That phrase “with thanksgiving” is key. You’re thanking God as you pray because you believe He’s already handling it. It’s hard to thank Him for something and still worry about it at the same time.

I used to pray like it was “Anxiety Hour with Jesus”—just reporting in all my problems without ever handing them over. I wasn’t trusting; I was just worrying in God’s general direction. But the kind of prayer Paul’s talking about is different. It’s laying your burdens at Jesus’ feet and walking away lighter, because you know He’s the one carrying them now.

That’s what leads to the peace that passes all understanding—the kind of peace that doesn’t make sense to anyone except the one who knows who’s really in control.

3rd point:

SEEK FIRST THE KINGDOM

“But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” — Matthew 6:33

Jesus doesn’t just tell us what not to do — He tells us what to do instead. The antidote to worry isn’t more control; it’s more Kingdom.

He says, “Seek first the Kingdom of God.”

That word seek in Greek means to “set your heart upon,” to chase after with determination, to pursue above everything else. It’s not a casual glance; it’s a consuming pursuit. Jesus is saying, “Make the rule and reign of God your number one priority, and everything else will fall into place.”

Before Jesus wraps up this section, He tells us something subtle but powerful: anxiety is a false prophet.

It offers false solutions, makes false promises, and gives false predictions.

Worrying about things always makes me feel like I’m doing something — like if I just sit and stew on it long enough, somehow I’m solving the problem. But all I’m really doing is burning emotional calories and getting nowhere.

Jesus points out two problems with that kind of thinking.

First, in verse 27 He says, “Can any of you add one moment to his life span by worrying?” No, you can’t. You can’t extend your life through anxiety. If anything, you’ll just shorten it.

Doctors tell us that nearly 75% of all doctor visits are stress or anxiety related. Dr. Charles Mayo of the famous Mayo Clinic once said, “Worry affects the circulation, the heart, the glands, and the whole nervous system. Though I have never known a man who died of overwork, I have known many who died of worry.”

I saw a bumper sticker once that said, “Anxiety is my daily cardio.” That’s not good exercise, brother.

Anxiety is a false prophet — it promises that if you just give it enough attention, you’ll feel better. But that’s a lie.

Second, anxiety is a false prophet because the vast majority of what we worry about never actually happens. We pay emotional interest on a debt we don’t even owe.

It’s like when you hear the creepy music in a scary movie. You know that feeling? Everything’s calm, they’re just sitting by a lake, and then suddenly the ominous music starts playing. You know something bad’s coming.

I remember once watching a movie with Blair and saying, “Man, wouldn’t it be great if real life had ominous music? Like when you first meet someone who’s going to cause you problems, that music would start playing in the background and you’d know—don’t trust this one.”

But here’s the thing: most of us have ominous music playing in our hearts when there’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of. We live on edge, anticipating disaster that never comes.

Jesus says in verse 34, “Therefore don’t worry about tomorrow, because each day will have trouble of its own.” And I read that and think, “Well, that’s exactly what I’m worried about with tomorrow!”

But here’s the key: the same God who gives you strength for today will give you strength for tomorrow.

He doesn’t give you tomorrow’s grace today, because you don’t need it yet. He’s faithful to meet you in the moment.

THE MANNA LESSON

That’s exactly what God was teaching Israel in the wilderness with the manna.

Every morning, they’d wake up and find these little cracker-like things covering the ground — “manna,” which literally means “What is it?” God’s daily provision, ready for them when they woke up.

But here’s the deal: they could only gather enough for that day. If they tried to stockpile it, it would rot and breed worms overnight. The only exception was the day before the Sabbath, when they could collect two days’ worth and it would miraculously stay fresh.

Why did God do that? Because He was teaching them, “Trust Me daily. Don’t hoard My provision. I’ll show up again tomorrow.”

That’s how God works. He gives you today’s manna for today’s needs. If you try to live on tomorrow’s manna, it won’t be there yet.

But every morning, His mercies are new. His grace is fresh. His strength is ready.

The problem for most of us is that we want to build a life so secure that we never have to trust Him again. We want to stockpile enough money, make enough plans, and build enough walls to feel invulnerable tomorrow.

But that’s foolish, because—let’s be honest—you can never prepare for every contingency.

What if I lose my job? What if the economy crashes? What if my kids rebel? What if my spouse gets sick? What if I never get married?

You can’t build a big enough “what if” fund for life. There will always be another scenario to worry about.

GOD’S DAILY FAITHFULNESS

And even if you could plan for tomorrow—it’s unnecessary. Because the same God who’s been faithful to you today will be just as faithful tomorrow.

He’s not running out of manna. He’s not running out of mercy. He’s an A-to-Z kind of God.

You’re worried about problem X, Y, and Z for tomorrow? He’s already got “what is it” for every letter in the alphabet. Whatever life throws at you, He’s got fresh grace waiting for it.

And that’s why Jesus says, “Seek first the Kingdom.” He’s saying, “Stop trying to be in control, and start trusting the One who already is.”

You can’t seek the Kingdom and still chase control. You can’t chase the Father’s will while living like an orphan. The Kingdom life is a daily dependence life—trusting that the Father who brought you this far isn’t going to stop now.

PASTORAL CHALLENGE

Men, when you seek first the Kingdom, that’s when your priorities line up. When the King is first, worry gets dethroned. When the King is first, peace reigns where panic used to live. When the King is first, your kids see that faith is real.

And when you seek first the Kingdom, you discover that God’s not asking for your anxiety—He’s asking for your allegiance.

So let me ask you: what’s first right now? What kingdom are you actually seeking?

Because you can’t be a Kingdom man and a control freak at the same time.

Jesus ends this passage by saying, “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.”

In other words—stay in your lane. Handle today with the grace God gave you for today. Tomorrow is His department.

The God who was faithful yesterday is the same God who will be faithful tomorrow.

So maybe today, for you, it’s time to surrender. Maybe you’ve been living like it’s all on you—trying to control it all, carry it all, fix it all—and Jesus is saying, “Lay it down. Let Me be Lord.”

We’re going to close by singing “I Surrender All.”

And as we sing, I want to invite you to respond—to actually surrender whatever it is God’s been dealing with in your heart.

For some of you, that first step is to surrender your life to Jesus. You’ve been around church, you’ve heard the gospel, but you’ve never truly given Him control of your life. You’ve been trying to live life your way, and today God’s calling you to say, “Jesus, I’m done running. I surrender to You as Lord.”

For others, the next step of obedience is baptism. You’ve made that personal decision to follow Jesus, but you’ve never gone public with it. Baptism doesn’t save you—it’s a declaration that you belong to Him. It’s your way of saying, “I’m not ashamed of the One who saved me.”

And maybe for some of you, God’s next step is to officially join the church. You’ve been attending, you’ve been sitting in the pews, but you haven’t made it official yet. Church membership isn’t just paperwork—it’s partnership. It’s saying, “This is my family. I’m not just watching what God’s doing here—I’m part of it.”

At Cedar Bay, when you become a member, you’re saying, “I’m committing to grow in Christ, to serve in His church, and to advance His mission.” You’re not just filling a seat—you’re filling a role in the body.

Maybe God’s calling you to get involved in ministry. You’ve got gifts. You’ve got time. You’ve got a story God wants to use. Don’t sit on the sidelines. Whether it’s kids’ ministry, students, music, greeting, or outreach—God wants to work through you, not just around you.

And maybe your step today is to say yes to something bigger—a mission trip next year. We’re planning to send people out to carry the gospel beyond these walls, and maybe God’s stirring your heart for that. Don’t dismiss that tug—it could be His call to take your faith global.

So whatever your next step is—salvation, baptism, membership, serving, or missions—today’s the day to surrender it.

Stop worrying about tomorrow and take a step of obedience today.

As we sing “I Surrender All,” come. Lay it down. Surrender that control. Say, “Lord, You’re in charge now.”

Because when you finally surrender everything to Jesus, you don’t lose—you gain peace. And you’ll find that the God who rules the Kingdom is the same God who’s ready to rule your heart.

PRAYER

Father, right now we bring You our worries, our fears, our attempts to control what only You can handle. Forgive us for thinking too little of You, for acting like You won’t come through. You’ve proven Your love once and for all at the cross.

So today, Lord, we surrender. We lay down the “what-ifs,” and we take hold of Your promises. You are the God who stands outside of time, but You are also the God who steps into our days. Teach us to seek first Your Kingdom—to trust You with our future, our families, our finances, and our fears.

We believe that You are faithful. We believe that You are good. And today, we choose to surrender all.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.