Who hasn’t worried? We all do it, and sometimes with good reason. Worrying is not a sin, as some might persuade us to believe. There is, however, a component of faith that is absent when we worry because we have forgotten the sovereignty of God over all things. Yet, before worrying, fasting and prayer are things you’ll note in the sermon that were observed in the church a lot (cf. Acts 10:30; 13:1–3; 14:23). Psychologists teach such methods as meditation, mindfulness, breathing, and so on. These are grounding techniques when, in a moment of anxiety, someone centers themselves to face whatever worries them. Sometimes, we live in a lane so long that it becomes home, but neuroplasticity suggests that our brain is equipped to rewire itself. Praying the Our Father reminds us that God is outside time and space and greater than us and our worries. Plus, when we pray for his will to be done on earth as in heaven, we must submit to his will, whatever it may be. When we place our worries in the context of prayer and fasting, we give ourselves to God and entrust him in the process.
We have contrasted riches and necessities. The two are different. If we are fortunate enough to amass wealth, Jesus says, it should be in heaven, where it cannot be destroyed or diluted in value. We are acquisitive by nature. It’s easier to accumulate things than to give them. In high school, I returned home one day—the first to leave and return home—to find the door ajar. I knew I had closed it all the way, but I went in to discover the house ransacked and robbed. My great-grandfather’s 12 gauge shotgun was gone. He used it when he was young, so I prized that possession. That robbery taught me then and there that placing meaning in things is meaningless. The relationship we had and the love we shared were more valuable than the shotgun. It was sentimental, and that’s why the loss hurt so much. However, that taught me not to lay up treasures on earth because thieves break in and steal.
No matter how much you have, it’s never enough (Eccl. 5:10; cf. 1 Tim. 6:10). No one can serve two masters. No one can serve God and mammon. That word is Aramaic; some translations render it “riches” or “wealth.” The root of the term means “trust” or “reliance.” We cannot trust or rely on stuff against God. This point is no better illustrated than in the parable of the rich fool (Luke 12:13–21). This man did what Jesus warns against here—he “stored” up treasures for himself. The very word Matthew uses as “lay up” (Matt. 6:19–20) appears at the end of this parable (Luke 12:21). Cyril of Alexander (ca. AD 412–444) described being rich toward God as having one’s “hand … open to the needs of the poor, comforting the sorrows of those in poverty according to his means and the utmost of his power. He gathers in storehouses that are above and lays up treasures in heaven” (Luke, Homily 89). Another example of trusting in riches is illustrated differently than the rich young ruler (Matt. 19:16–22).
The relationship of the eye to the soul has been a staple of philosophy for centuries. When I used to live in Central Kentucky, there was an Amish man people went to because he was an iridologist. He could look into your eyes and tell you if you’ve had your gallbladder removed or diagnose other issues you may have. In antiquity, people believed your eyes projected light, hence the eye/lamp connection. We now know that the eye’s receptors convert light into electrical signals that our brains interpret. We’ve heard phrases such as the all-seeing eye, the evil eye, and the stink eye. What is it that we will set our gaze upon? That determines whether it is good or bad.
Saying not to worry is easier sometimes than actually doing it. If we fast, we won’t worry about food and drink. If we pray, we give our worries to God (cf. Phil. 4:6–7). Paul knew what it was to suffer from want, so he replaced his worry with contentedness (Phil. 4:12–13). In the community of Jesus, we share our bread and drink. We look out for one another to ensure everyone isn’t lacking (Matt. 25:34–45). Plus, when we look at nature, we see that everything is provided for nature, so why wouldn’t we have faith that God will provide for us? Unlike nature, we sow and reap but can learn a lot from it. So, strive for God’s kingdom, and all else falls into place. Years ago, a college student was preparing for a nursing degree, and she was a cheerleader and belonged to a sorority. She hadn’t been at church, so my wife and I met her for lunch, and I told her that if she prioritized God, her worries and pressures would be resolved. It’s human nature to sacrifice Bible study, worship, and fellowship to ensure things are handled. However, when we prioritize them, we are saying to God that he is more important, and we trust that all we have to face is something he will tend to.