22 And he said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. 23 For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. 24 Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! 25 And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?1 26 If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? 27 Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin,2 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 28 But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! 29 And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. 30 For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. 31 Instead, seek his3 kingdom, and these things will be added to you.
32 “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. 33 Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. 34 For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”
Section Overview
The matter of riches and provision shifts to the concerns of the disciples, and they are enjoined not to worry about their lives, food, or clothing. Several reasons are given for they should not be anxious: (1) Life is about more than food and clothing. (2) God provides for birds, and human beings are more valuable than birds. (3) Anxiety does not add a single moment to one’s life. (4) God clothes the lilies and the grass, and thus he will certainly clothe believers. Indeed, believers should seek God and his kingdom, because he as a kind Father will supply everything we need, which consummates with the gift of the kingdom. Therefore believers should sell their possessions and put their treasure in heaven, because the heart can be found where one’s treasure is. Jesus’ words to the disciples end in the same place the parable of the rich fool did: the issue concerns the identity of one’s true treasure.
Section Outline
IV.A. The Journey Begins (9:51–13:21) . . .
4. Warnings for Disciples (12:1–34) . . .
b. Warning against Riches (12:13–34) . . .
(2) Trusting God for Life’s Needs (12:22–34)
Response
In Luke 12:25 Jesus makes a pragmatic argument: worrying will not add a single moment to our lives. Indeed, it will probably shorten our lives. When we worry, we ought to talk to ourselves and remind ourselves that it does not do any good anyway. It is of no help but instead harms us. But the greatest antidote to worry is not to remind ourselves of the pragmatic fact that it does not work. The greatest antidote to worry is believing and realizing that we have a Father who loves us. We need not fear or be worried. We are a little flock, weak and unimpressive. We are keenly aware of how far short we fall, but we have a strong and loving Father. We are different from the world because he is “our” Father. And the Father loves to supply our needs. It is his delight to give to us.
John Wesley captured well the teaching of Jesus in saying, “Make all you can. Save all you can. Give all you can.” Some might complain that those three statements are contradictory, but they catch the spirit of Jesus’ teaching, for Jesus does not specify a precise amount to give, nor does he say how much it is right for us to invest. Surely there are different answers for different people. Jesus asks us something more profound. “What is your treasure in life? Where do you find your joy? Where is your heart?” We are to place our lives in the hands of our Father, who watches over us as his little flock. We are not to fear but to find him to be our treasure, for he longs to give us the kingdom.