Let the Lily Have Today
As the world, and each of us, realizes just how little we really control, God will remind us, in many and surprising ways, just how in control he really is. His microphone this morning was the tiny stem along our walkway.
Only an inch, maybe two, one of several dozen lilies is emerging again, right now, probably startled by how abnormally calm and quiet our street is this year. Being ordered to stay home can make it harder to dismiss other standing orders (Matthew 6:28), and bring the sermons lying all around our homes into higher (and louder) definition.
Consider this lily. Her delicate frame might make some think she is weak, and yet every year she survives what so few animals can. Her green dress, vibrant against remains of winter, defies the still frozen ground. Her soft, faint voice is only a whisper of what will soon blossom. She hasn’t started singing yet.
While we all hide in our houses, the lily bursts into the world, unafraid, undisturbed, indomitable. If you wanted to oppose it, you could pluck this one up, of course, or hundreds if you had an afternoon. But that would not stem the tide of their invasion — storming across the United States, canvassing the whole of Europe, penetrating Asia all the way through to Japan, and then descending on India, before parachuting into the Philippines. The lily. Like the ones currently seizing my front yard again.
Even in a global pandemic, even as whole states shutdown, even as headlines scream with panic, the lilies peek out to remind us who’s in control. And who cares for us.
Do Not Be Anxious
Why did Jesus keep talking about anxiety? Before the disciples sat down on the mountain to hear the Sermon on the Mount, life had likely been anything but anxious, maybe for the first time in their lives. Sure, Jesus had called them to leave behind their families and fishing boats to follow him, but everything since had been the greatest adventure they had ever known.
He taught, day and night, like no other teacher they had ever heard (Matthew 4:23; 7:28). From town to town, he healed “every disease and every affliction among the people.” He overpowered demons, and suspended seizures, and dismissed paralysis (Matthew 4:24). Crowds gathered around him, and his fame spread faster than any virus could.
How thrilling and riveting it must have been to be near him while he began to reverse history. The disciples likely could not sleep each night, wondering what he might do or say tomorrow. With all the wisdom and power of heaven at your side, how could anyone be anxious? And yet as they withdrew from all the excitement, Jesus, almost eerily, keeps repeating himself:
"Do not be anxious about your life." (Matthew 6:25)
"Do not be anxious." (Matthew 6:31)
"Do not be anxious about tomorrow." (Matthew 6:34)
Jesus, who was utterly free from anxiety, kept mentioning anxiety because he knew just how prone to anxiety we would be — especially when viruses spread and our sense of security dwindles.
How Lilies Conquer Fear
No one can simply tell his or heart, “Do not be anxious.” Hearts cannot be manipulated like that. They will listen, and they need to be taught, but if they will feel hope and faith and joy and peace, they must have reasons — big, captivating, undeniable reasons. If we are drowning in anxiety because of all of the uncertainty before us, it is likely because we need something stronger underneath us. Jesus knows this, and so he says,
"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?" (Matthew 6:28–30).
Why should your heart refuse to be anxious? Because if you follow Christ, if you have found your Lily in the field, God is not just God anymore, but your heavenly Father (6:26). And your heavenly Father knows absolutely everything you will ever need (Matthew 6:32). No one can count all the lilies in the world, and yet like a Father, your God dresses all of them. Imagine him stopping, brush in hand, over each one every spring — beaming yellows, soft oranges, burning reds and pinks, pristine whites, rich and deep purples. Will he forget you?
The lily, of course, cannot and will not protect you. Unless her pedals become sure steps for our hearts back into heaven, from where our help comes (Psalm 121:1).
How to Spend a Lily
Jesus wants us to be free from anxiety, but life is not about freedom from anxiety — even in a pandemic. He says to his disciples,
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. (Matthew 6:31–33).
The exhortation is not just for anxious days, but for every day, every circumstance, even every meal (1 Corinthians 10:31). And yet it can be all the harder in anxious days. New stresses press in, like those many of us are experiencing — depressing and alarming news streaming in at all times, less ideal work conditions or the loss of work altogether, more time with family which for many mean more fighting with family, less and less clarity about next week, or next month, or even next year. Many are finding it suddenly harder to seek God at all, much less first.
And that is why so many are unprepared to fight anxiety. We assume we have to deal with our anxiety, so that we can have some peace, so that we can finally hear from God. Jesus says, however, that in the pursuit of peace, stability, and hope, God comes first, not last. We don’t find God by worrying about how much food we have in our freezer, or where we will work, or how long all of this will last. We find all that we need by looking for him. First, and most often. And then first again tomorrow.
As the self-distancing lingers, draw all the nearer to God. Wherever you are stuck for now, find a closet, and let that closet open worlds beyond this one. Get alone with your heavenly Father each day, anchor your heart in all he promises to be and do for you, and then ask him to use you to bless at least one person, even in some small way, today. That’s what the kingdom and righteousness of God will look like in an ordinary, quarantined life: like a meal for the hungry or a cup of water for the thirsty (Matthew 6:35), or a text or call to the lonely (Matthew 6:35), or, as scandalous as it may seem, perhaps even a visit to the sick (Matthew 6:34–36).
How might the Father of heaven and earth care for someone today because we set our hearts to be like his?
Let Tomorrow Have Tomorrow
One of the surest ways to dispel anxiety today is to let tomorrow wait for now. Most of our fears throughout our lives are not about what might reasonably happen today, even while a virus crawls, by the thousands, across our screens.
We have all, at one time, been deathly afraid of death (Hebrews 2:15), and we all could die any day (James 4:13–14). And we are as aware of that right now as many of us ever have been (Psalm 90:12). But most of our everyday anxieties are about everyday threats, not ultimate ones — about schedules and finances, about how inadequate we are and how we might fail, about marriage and parenting, friendships and ministry. Now, we’re also worrying about schools and offices closing, about the precious elderly and vulnerable among us, about unemployment rising and stocks falling, about political selfishness and quarreling, about what may come tomorrow. Tomorrow holds an unbelievable monopoly on anxiety. But only because we let it.
Jesus ends his word on anxiety, saying, “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble” (Matthew 6:34). Seek God first today, for what you need today and for what he might have you do today. Guard yourself from anxiety by immersing yourself in this day, the day the Lord has made, and written, and chosen for you. Let tomorrow have tomorrow, and let the lily have today.