Introduction

Anxiety steals from the life of a follower of Christ. I have a friend who has a daughter that’s handicapped by seizures. Evangeline’s seizures aren’t like the seizures you might associate with epilepsy. Her seizures are silent. You can only tell she’s having a seizure by looking into her eyes and realizing that she’s not with it. Her breathing and heart rate might change a little bit, but there aren’t any significant visible signs of what’s happening inside. In fact, if you didn’t know her, you probably wouldn’t even know what was going on. For her, this happens hundreds of times a day. As a result, Evangeline is significantly behind in her cognitive development. Why? Because seizures hijack her nervous system and brain function, not allowing them to do that for which they are primarily intended.

In a follower of Christ’s life, anxiety has a similar crippling effect. Anxiety steels from the life of one who dearly loves the Lord. Therefore, the heart, the emotional center of a person, can only process so much at a given time. Anxiety steals from that finite resource overwhelming the person. Perhaps one of the worst problems is that anxiety often runs below the surface of our conscious operation.

To that end, this writing will address anxiety from a Biblical standpoint regarding what it is how those who love Jesus are able to navigate it by his strength and not our own strength.

What is Anxiety?

In the simplest terms, anxiety is an unhealthy concern for something that can usually not be controlled by the one who has anxiety. A few examples of anxiety could be finances, children’s salvation, pleasing a spouse, pleasing a boss, or perhaps our own personal safety. Maybe even reading that list wells up something in your heart, and you feel like it’s hard to swallow. That is anxiety. What’s interesting about anxiety is that it often lives just below the surface of our lives and only pops its ugly head out once in a while when an additional overwhelming task or concern is piled on top of it. Then, a person might blow up, shut down, or even have a panic attack for what seems like a completely unknown reason. The truth, though, is that there’s a strong undercurrent of anxiety running in that person’s heart all of the time. That undercurrent of anxiety is stealing precious heart resources, much like Evangeline’s seizures mentioned above. Or perhaps even in the way that a parasite would steal energy from its host. Let us see what Jesus has to say about anxiety.

On Anxiety: Jesus

In Matthew 6:25-34, Jesus provides a fantastic explanation of the futility of anxiety. Please understand that’s not to minimize anxiety in any way, it’s a real thing, and it’s definitely hard to handle. My point is that he shows how unreasonable anxiety is in comparison to the great providence and care of God.

In Matthew 6:25, Jesus opens his teaching by saying, “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?”1 Jesus hits us right where we live. We tend to have anxiety about our provisions for life, don’t we? But Jesus is telling us here that we have better things in life to be concerned about. He’s encouraging us not to let anxiety about these things bog us down.

What he says next is a remarkable thought. Jesus says, “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?”2 In this verse, you have to look closely at what Jesus is saying. At first glance, one might think Jesus is saying that God will feed you, and you don’t need to work for it. But that would be a contradictory understanding to 2 Thessalonians 3:10. In fact, idleness is a sin. So that can’t be the intended meaning. In our text, Matthew 6:26, Jesus explains that the birds aren’t doing things to merit being fed, they’re just being birds. God’s providential care for his creation doesn’t work on merit. He loves his creation; therefore, from his goodness, he cares for it as a loving creator. The birds do exactly what they are supposed to do, and by God’s providential care, they’re fed and cared for appropriately. In the same way, you don’t have to toil to try to earn God’s providence. God will care for you because he loves you. You need to do what he made you do, which is to love him and love his people in your context. The potential dysfunction that can arise from anxiety regarding provision is highlighted in Matthew 6:24. Jesus says in Matthew 6:24, “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.”3 When we are anxious about our provision in life, we can end up serving money rather than the Lord because we’re so overcome by worry that we can’t focus on anything but earning more money so that we don’t starve. Jesus then gives us another tidbit of illuminating guidance, “are you not worth more than they?” A human being is made in the image of God. A human is of infinitely more value than a bird. If God will care so graciously for the birds of the air, is it not irrational to think that he wouldn’t care for us as well or even better?

Space would preclude me from going much further here. But let’s look at one more verse in Matthew 6. In Matthew 6:27, Jesus shows how illogical it is to be anxious. He says, “And which of you, by being anxious, can add a single hour to his span of life?” That’s really where the rubber meets the road. Can our anxiety change anything about our lives? In the context of this text, it’s easy to understand Jesus’ point here. This is a rhetorical question. Of course, we can’t change our lives by being anxious. What, then, ought we to do with our anxiety?

How Should I Respond?

In the book of Romans, the Apostle Paul encourages us that there’s no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. We will often condemn ourselves for anxiety when we see Scriptures like this. But the beauty of the gospel is that where we fall short, Jesus is always so much better. Jesus, in the face of the crucifixion, showed no anxiety. He is perfect; we are not. Therefore, we go to him for help in our time of need.

Jesus says to us in Matthew 11:28-30, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” This is a picture of Jesus sharing our load of anxiety. When we yoke ourselves to him, he will help us to bear the burden. We weren’t meant to bear a load; we’re sheep. Sheep are frail and don’t carry significant loads.

The reality of anxiety is that we often won’t take it to Jesus. We have a huge tendency to bear our anxiety alone. Most often, anxiety is handled in one of two ways. The first is that our lives are so busy that we don’t take the time to recognize that we’re becoming increasingly anxious about something until we snap. Being still isn’t a concept in our lives, and therefore we’re unaware that in our hearts, we are in anguish and worry. The other prevalent response is that we get so focused on what we’re anxious about that we never approach Jesus regarding the issue. Both dilemmas preclude us from taking our burden to Christ so that he can help us to carry the burden if not fully alleviate it. But the burden needs to be taken to him.

Conclusion

What might you be anxious about? Take time to consider the question genuinely. Jesus, our merciful and faithful high priest, stands ready to help. Take your burden to him that he might help. God’s word is entirely sufficient for our care. Perhaps as illustrated in this writing, God has spoken directly to your source of anxiety. Ask the Lord to help you bear the burden and change your heart to believe he will care for all you need. God loves his creation. Even more, God loves his children. He cares for you. He is trustworthy.

“I have been young, and now am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his children begging for bread.”