Consider the Lilies

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. 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 worrying can add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry 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 clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ For it is the Gentiles who seek all these things, and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.

-Matthew 6:25-34

Growing up in Charleston, South Carolina, I was convinced that there were only three seasons. There was summer, which lasted forever, and the 100% humidity ensured that even those who didn’t go to the beach spent the entire season swimming through the thick, heavy air. There was winter, which was marked by barren trees, rain, and a cold ocean breeze that could cut through whatever weight jacket you put on. Then there was spring, which in Charleston is the perfect season. And the best thing about spring in Charleston is the flowers. My favorite of all of them is wisteria.

There are about three weeks in late March when the entire city of Charleston seems to be covered in purple flowers blooming off vines that have woven their way around wrought iron fences and up the facades of old homes. It is absolutely magic, and it is exactly what comes to mind every time I read Jesus’ words to the disciples in Matthew 6: “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 clothed like one of these.” Every spring, God’s care for creation brings forth the most stunning beauty, and if God cares so extravagantly for blooms that last only a few weeks, how much more does God care for us?

Of course, Jesus does not point to the flowers simply so that we will admire them. He points to them because they are teachers. The birds of the air and the lilies of the field are living parables of God’s faithfulness. They remind us that the world is not held together by our efforts, and that our anxiety is wasted energy. They remind us that our worth is not measured by our productivity, our control, or our ability to anticipate every possible problem. Creation goes on receiving what it needs from the hand of God, and Christ invites us to learn how to receive our lives in the same way.

I absolutely do not have the “therefore do not worry” part of all this down. I am still working on that (and I am not making a ton of progress). But I do believe that if I remain faithful and keep attending to the constant reminders of God’s care, I will get there. Maybe that is part of why Jesus tells us to look at birds and flowers. They give us something concrete to notice when trust feels too abstract. They preach a sermon without the need for words: God is faithful, God is generous, and God knows what we need. May we have the grace to notice, and little by little, to trust.

Rev. Ryan Young