Matthew 6:28-30 - "And why are you anxious about clothing?"

Matthew 6:28-30

Jesus deals similarly with our anxiety about clothing as he did with our anxiety over food. He directs us to the creation that God cares for, this time to the "lilies of the field." Most commentators agree that these are probably the wildflowers that spring up in abundance apart from anyone's gardening care. God clothes these common flowers with a beauty that they did not have to provide for themselves.

What astonishes me about this passage is that Jesus approaches our anxiety over clothing by talking about God as the Creator and Originator of beauty. In other words he knows right away that our main concern about clothing is whether we'd look nice, and he goes overboard to reassure us on that point. Really, how indulgent is that? You'd expect that he would view clothes as something that merely covers us or warms us or shields us from the weather. "Observe the fur of goats, how it grows. You see that God covers the goats and keeps them warm. How much more will he cover you?" Then we'd all dutifully brace ourselves for being covered by God all right--just looking ugly. Of course we'd all do our best to be grateful that we are at least clothed. Besides, bearing with ugliness is a good spiritual discipline. Very humbling, you know.

Well forget that, because Jesus uses the wildflower as an illustration, not goat's hair. Oddly, he doesn't even try to come up with something that illustrates both function and beauty, such as bird feathers. ("See? Keeps you warm and looks great too!") He goes straight for the most exquisite thing he can think of, a wildflower that exists primarily to startle you with its beauty. "Even Solomon in all his glory did not clothe himself like one of these." His point is that when you release your anxiety about clothing over to God, you're putting yourself in good hands. God knows that our concern centers not merely on having something to put on, to put a barrier between skin and the elements, but on whether our personal dignity will be protected too. He know we're anxious about the social aspect of being clothed in something appropriate and presentable. Yeah, he gets it.

Jesus then lets us in on a little secret about God. God values beauty for beauty's sake. He doesn't mind investing his artistic talents into clothing the fields with his wildflowers even when he knows they will all be gone the next day, cut down and tossed into someone's fireplace for fuel. Why does God bother? Why does he make flowers grow in far off places, forgotten hilltops and valleys that will never be seen by the human eye? Apparently he does it for his own enjoyment. He likes making beautiful things just so he can look at them. It's a part of his nature. So how much more will he do for us, his beloved children, who are more precious to him than weeds, and are destined not for the furnace but to dwell with him in the kingdom forever?

Matthew 6:25-27 - "For this reason I say to you, do not be anxious for your life..."

Matthew 6:25-27

Jesus just got through saying that you cannot be devoted to two masters. Inevitably you end up preferring one over the other. Specifically, you can't serve God and material possessions. You will either end up putting all your hope and security in the Giver or in the Things Given.

"For this reason, do not be anxious for your life." In other words if you want to avoid the trap of putting your hope and security in Things, if you want to stay focused on who your true master is, then here's the secret: Don't be anxious. Yep, that's right. All that anxiety about your material needs has to go. There. All better now?

But we need a little more help than that, something reassuring and concrete. So look at the birds. No, don't look at your online bank statement. Open the blinds or curtains or whatever and look at the birds outside. They neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns. Now at this point you have to understand that the people in Jesus' day lived in an agricultural community. Their form of anxiety involved sowing seed and anxiously waiting for the rains to come. Then when the rains came and the crops grew, they anxiously hoped that frost or locusts didn't destroy the crops before harvest time. Then after they reaped the harvest they stored the extra in barns as a safeguard in case next year's crop should fail. It was a continual cycle of anxiety at every stage of sowing, reaping and gathering into barns.

Our equivalent would be getting anxious over landing a job, then being anxious about whether the paycheck would be enough to cover the bills, then if there's some money left over putting it into a savings account as a safeguard against next month's expenses. So Jesus might very well say to us, "Look at the birds of the air. They neither land jobs, bring home paychecks, nor set up savings accounts, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?"

I think the "worth much more than they" part is the most comforting. Our security can be anchored in knowing that God values our lives more than all the other creatures of the earth--and we see plainly how well he cares for them. I don't think we really believe that God takes care of us because we are worth so much to him. We think it's because we're trying hard to be good little girls and boys who make our beds and wash up and say "please" and look sorry when we are scolded. We act like we're in some 19th century Charles Dickens orphanage where at any moment we could be turned out into the icy streets if we violate one of God's petty headmaster rules. The truth is we're privileged sons and daughters in our father's own home, and he gives us everything we need in abundance even though we daily break all the major rules of house.

Since we're already in that safe and secure place, you can see how being anxious isn't going to add a single cubit to our lifespan as Jesus says. It's like this. If you're anxious every day, your Father will love you and provide for you. But if you're not anxious at all, your Father will love you and provide for you. How does adding anxiety to the mix help you to come out ahead? It doesn't. So lose the anxiety and rest in the provision of the Giver, then you'll see clearly who your true Master is.

Matthew 6:24-25 - "No one can serve two masters..."

Matthew 6:24-25

It's a good thing I read up on this passage because I learned a couple of things I didn't know before. First of all our English translation which reads "he will hate the one [master] and love the other [master]" comes off a little too strongly. It's not so much about hating and loving as we think of it, but more about having a preference for one over the other. "He will end up loving one master more than the other" is closer to what Jesus is saying. It's similar to the confusion over Jesus' saying, "If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother..." The Lord is asking you to prefer him over your parents, not hate your parents in the way we normally think of that term.

Secondly, I learned that mammon can best be translated "material possessions," whereas I had always thought it was a synonym for "money." "Money" is apparently too narrow a meaning because "mammon" refers to your possessions in general. It hits on the problem of materialism, which is everyone's problem regardless of how rich or poor you are.

So now the passage makes a lot more sense. "No one can serve two masters" means that no one can be devoted to two masters. Sure, you can serve two masters in terms of fulfilling your duties to both of them. We do it all the time. For example, at work you can have two bosses, one in lower management and one in upper. But you will always compare the two and have a preference for one over the other. "For either he will hate [love to a lesser degree] the one and love [to a greater degree] the other, or he will hold to one and despise the other."

Therefore, Jesus says, "You cannot serve God and mammon." Jesus knows what a stronghold material possessions have upon us. We have to surround ourselves with lots of things to feel secure. We derive feelings of worth from our possessions. We put our trust in the number that shows up on our bank account statement. Security, worthiness, trust--see how easily all those feelings that should center upon God get sucked into the vortex of material things? That's what Jesus is saying. You cannot serve both God and materialism. You tend to attach yourself to either one or the other. You tend to invest all your hope and self-worth and general feelings of well-being into either the God who loves you and gives you all things generously, or into the things themselves--and then you sit surrounded in the middle of your pile as if it were a great fortress against the uncertainty and tragedy of the world.

Jesus knows that we need material things like food and clothes and shelter but it's just that we need to be aware of the two masters principle. Our hearts tend to cling either to the Giver or to the Things Given, and we have to be on guard about that. We have to focus on the Giver always, which Jesus is going to talk more about in our next passage.

Matthew 6:22-23 - "The lamp of the body is the eye..."

Matthew 6:22-23

Whenever I don't understand what a passage is talking about--which happens frequently with the sayings of Jesus--I try to start with what I do understand and take it step by step from there. This is one of those.

This passage comes after Jesus' teaching that you should lay up treasures in heaven and not on earth, and comes before his teaching that you cannot serve two masters. There's a common theme here. You cannot live for both heaven and earth, for both God and money. You have to choose. Where does your heart's treasure really lie? It's obvious that today's passage, which is sandwiched right in between, must also be addressing this theme.

That means Jesus' analogy about the eye's relationship to the body has to be illustrating this theme. Your eye is the lamp of the body. If your eye is clear your whole body is full of light. But if your eye is bad then your whole body is full of darkness. In other words if your eye can see clearly your whole body knows where it's going, but if your eye is blind you essentially exist in darkness. When you think about it, there isn't a practical difference between being in a dark room versus being in a lit room with your eyes shut. Once your eye shuts out the light, you are in darkness. Your body doesn't know where to go or what to do. But when your eye takes in the light, your body is also "sees" clearly.

How does the eye/light/body analogy fit with the theme of making the right choice about where your true treasure lies? I see two possibilities that center around the Greek word haplous which my Bible translates as "clear." What does it mean to have a haplous or clear eye?

I am told that a literal translation of haplous is "single" or "undivided," as in undivided loyalty. This seems to fit into Jesus' overall exhortation quite nicely because then he's saying that having a "single eye" is having an undivided loyalty to God, as opposed to trying to serve two masters or lay up treasure in two places. That single-eyed devotion brings light and clarity of purpose to the whole body, whereas the double-minded person dwells in darkness and doesn't know where their true treasure ought to lie.

I know that explanation sounds really convincing but there's also another equally compelling possibility. The word haplous can have the connotation--or the implied meaning--of "generous." For instance, the adverbial form of haplous shows up in James 1:5: "God who gives to all men generously (haplos)." So now we have to consider that Jesus may be talking about having a "generous eye." What's more the term "bad" that Jesus uses when he says "if your eye is bad" could mean having an "evil eye," which is a common expression for jealousy, miserliness and ungenerosity. In short, Jesus could be saying that a generous eye gives light, clarity and purpose to the whole body, whereas an ungenerous eye causes the whole person to dwell in darkness.

And yet a third possibility--if you can believe it--may be that Jesus wants to imply both meanings and is using haplous as a play on words. Seeing your true master with a single-eyed loyalty enables you to be generous, whereas having divided loyalties will blind you with miserliness. One enlightens you with purpose and direction while the other leaves you wandering in confusion.

I'll leave you to make the call. But whatever nuance you find most convincing, getting the overall message of setting your sights on your true treasure and your true master is what's important.

Matthew 6:19-21 - "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures upon earth . . ."

Matthew 6:19-21

Laying up your treasure in heaven and not upon earth seems like a fitting summary to Jesus' promise--which he emphasizes three times in this chapter--that "your Father who sees in secret will repay you." Up until now Jesus has been exhorting us to forsake the praise of men. Don't sound a trumpet as you dump your gift into the temple treasury, or make a display of yourself on the street corner to say your prayers, or look haggard and miserable when you fast. Otherwise people will notice and reward you with their earthly praise.

Jesus must have religious leaders particularly in mind, because in the secular world you can't gain earthly treasure by showing everyone how awesome you are at praying, fasting and giving alms. Only someone who aspires to be a religious leader might be tempted to use pious hypocrisy as a means of obtaining the kind of material reward that moths and rust and thieves can prey upon. With all the spiritual charlatans who are profiting by preaching a false, fleshly gospel today, you don't have to look far to see the kind of person Jesus is talking about. Peddling the gospel for money is strongly condemned by the New Testament writers.

But aside from being a warning to church leaders, it can be an encouragement to the lay person who serves in obscurity. I think deep down a lot of regular church members feel like second class citizens of the kingdom because they aren't serving as one of the ordained leaders of the church. Like, maybe when we all get to heaven it will be all the pastors and elders and missionaries who get dealt the big juicy rewards while everyone else will have to be content receiving the consolation prize.

But this passage levels the playing field. What matters is where you are laying up your treasure and where your heart is. The less recognition you get in this life for doing good, the more your heavenly Father is obligated to "repay" you by rewarding you in heaven. This is essentially what it means to lay up treasure in heaven, which is why Jesus encourages secret piety. When I think about it, this principle can actually work against people who serve in high profile ministry capacities since many of them face greater temptations in desiring the praise of others, whereas the person who serves in obscurity may face fewer distractions. In that sense, perhaps being an unrecognized layperson is a blessing in disguise: the lack of praise you are getting in this life is laying away a storehouse full of treasure in the next.

It's interesting that Jesus says "where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." I guess if it were me, I would have put it the other way around: where your heart is, there will your treasure also be. The problem with my idea is that it's hard to know exactly where your heart's at, isn't it? Is my heart in heaven, or is my heart set on earth? So maybe Jesus is saying, lay up treasure in heaven, because the more you invest there, the more your heart will grow attached to the things of the next life. Having that stash of treasure up there will guarantee that your heart will become weaned away from this earth and increasingly crave the solid things of heaven.

What is this treasure? I don't know. Does it matter? It's better than anything earth has to offer. It's incorruptible, unbreakable, and worth all the sufferings you've ever been through. It has to do with receiving the praise of God, a special place of service in the kingdom, a seat at Jesus' banqueting table, an inheritance. Those are just metaphors that combine together into something wonderful beyond comprehension that I won't even attempt to describe.

Matthew 6:16-18 - "And whenever you fast, do not put on a gloomy face..."

Matthew 6:16-18

A pastor friend once pointed out to me that Jesus says "whenever you fast," meaning that Jesus is assuming that you fast as a normal part of your Christian practice. Like most modern evangelicals it doesn't occur to me to make fasting a regular part of my routine. Worship, fellowship, sacraments, Bible reading, giving, serving, praying . . . and fasting. But maybe it should. I know that fasting, when combined with prayer, is a way of humbling yourself before God when you are particularly intense about making a request. Recall how Queen Esther asked the Jewish people to fast for three days as she prepared to risk her life to come before the king. I've also noticed that when I'm really, miserably sick, I seem to pray more effectively. There does seem to be a close connection between physical weakness and spiritual strength. I'd have to assume that the bodily weakness that comes with fasting strengthens your prayers in a similar way.

However, the point Jesus is making is not that you should fast--because he assumes you already are--but how you go about it. He says that when you go through your pious sufferings, you should not be making a big display of it for everybody to see. Don't go around looking all haggard but conceal your discomfort from others so that only your heavenly Father knows. You might even say he's asking us to practice a kind of "reverse hypocrisy." If hypocrisy is putting on a display of piety when in secret you're far from it, then this reverse hypocrisy is about having the appearance of normalcy when in secret you are making a sacrifice to the Lord that is somewhat costly.

I don't think he's talking about keeping your sufferings to yourself in general and never allowing others to bear your burdens. (We are commanded to bear one another's burdens after all.) Instead it sounds to me like he's talking about certain acts that you ought to be doing for God's eyes alone. Giving alms and praying fall into that category--which Jesus talked about earlier. And now fasting.

This is the third time in the chapter that Jesus refers to God as "your Father who sees in secret" and promises that "your Father who sees in secret will repay you." As I've mentioned earlier, sometimes I wonder if we've gotten way too caught up in thinking Christianity is all about "being an example" and "being a witness" and generally putting everything out there on display for others to (supposedly) benefit from. If we're not careful, we'll get all our reward here on earth through the praise of others, and there will be nothing secret left for the Father to reward. Besides, putting everything on display takes all the fun out of it. Secrecy gives you a chance to cultivate your relationship with God, to have something that belongs to you and him alone, making your relationship with him seem all the more real.

Matthew 6:14-15 - "For if you forgive men for their transgressions..."

Matthew 6:14-15

This is one of those passages you gloss over because you don't want to deal with the seemingly raw conditionality of Jesus' statement. If you forgive others, your heavenly Father will forgive you; but if you don't forgive others, neither will your heavenly Father forgive you. Jesus is really tightening the screws on his earlier statement in the Lord's Prayer which was "forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." It's one thing to say, "to the extent that I forgive, may I be forgiven." But it's quite another to notch that idea up to: "if I don't forgive, then I won't be forgiven by my Father."

The main stumbler here is that Jesus seems to make the gospel sound suddenly conditional when we thought it was supposed to be free. Isn't the gospel supposed to be "freely you have received, freely give" and "whoever calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved"? The gospel never says, "if you believe in the Lord Jesus and forgive everyone in your life who has ever sinned against you, you will be saved."

And in fact, it would be impossible for us to forgive others as an initial condition of receiving God's forgiveness. That's because an ungenerate person is spiritually dead and incapable of that kind of grace. We love because God first loved us. Our ability to forgive flows from knowing his forgiveness. So even aside from the theological problem of making the gospel conditioned on granting forgiveness, it's a problem of logistics. Forgiveness can't be granted to others unless divine forgiveness has first been received.

For that reason I view this teaching as addressing--I guess you might say--a moral principle that governs my ongoing relationship with my heavenly Father. Jesus is teaching us how to address the Father in prayer, so he is assuming that you already have received the love and forgiveness and sonship that comes with being able to call God your Father. But when you come to him and commune with him and ask him to do stuff for you, does it make sense to be demanding forgiveness from him when you aren't willing to grant it to others? Forget about all the panicky questions that are rising up in your mind like: "How can Jesus say this?" "How can he expect me to forgive like that?" and "How am I supposed to live up to these conditions?" Just view it purely from a childlike perspective of what makes sense morally. Does it make sense to ask God's forgiveness for your offenses against him when you aren't willing to forgive other people's offenses against your piddly little self? Well . . . no, right? Logically speaking and morally speaking it makes no sense at all.

Oddly enough, I think yielding to that plain and simple truth is really half the battle. The other questions about how such forgiveness can be granted and whether you can pull it off become less daunting. They will work themselves out over time. And you can't discount the fact that forgiving others makes God's forgiveness more real to you, which in turn gives you the strength and motivation to forgive others. It's a cycle of grace that continually feeds itself.