Anxiety

If you have a copy of God’s Word, I encourage you to open the book of Philippians in the fourth chapter, Philippians 4. Those of you who are on the church email list, you received the email yesterday. If you’re not—by the way, if you don’t get emails from me—then please let me know. Sometimes folks come in and they want emails and we don’t always get their details; please let me and the office know if you want those.

I was given indication of the passing of the Reverend William Whiteside, and I sent on what I sent to you to a number of the folks in the church in Calgary. Some of the folks that are still there and part of that church have fond memories of his brief ministry there, and I wasn’t sure that they knew that he had passed away, so I let them know. One of the more humorous memories I have of the Reverend Whiteside pertained to his—he taught one class in college, a class we have for two years, so he’s in every week for two years. But it didn’t matter how long you had been there, he didn’t seem to have a knack for remembering your name. So I don’t know whether it was just lack of effort or some particular infirmity that he had, but he wouldn’t really remember your name. Of course, some of us have names that are a little more unusual. That didn’t help. There was a lady, a young woman in the college at the time I was there, and her name is a Turkish name, Mineksha. And he could not—for the life of him—even when he was told it, could not get his mouth around that name, Mineksha. But he would come in, and of course, he would conduct the class, and usually at the end of the class, he would ask one of the students to pray. Of course, his manner—if he doesn’t know your name—is to look at everyone and cast his eye, catch the eye of some of the students, and then lock eyes with them and say, “Brother, would you pray?” and just look at them that way.

Well, on one occasion, we all planned ahead of time that when it got to the end of the lecture and it was all coming to a culmination, we’d all bow our heads before he had an opportunity to lock eyes. And so he’s scanning around the room and he can’t lock eyes with anyone at all. And then he just said, “You rascals.” So I’ll never forget that. It’s quite funny. But he’s gone on to his reward and to a place that is far better.

Philippians 4—we are in a topical series. In recent times, we finished the book of Luke. It took a long time, but having looked at that, we now come to a topical series, looking at some matters. In what I have in an overarching title, “Given Bible Answers for Inner Battles.” Because we have certain challenges in life that aren’t always immediately obvious externally, and we have these feelings or emotions or challenges within us, and we’re trying to address some of these. So we’ve come to the fourth one, and what I’m endeavoring to deal with tonight is the subject of anxiety. And it’s quite different from last week—we dealt with regret. Regret tends to have very emotive something that certainly everyone can relate to. Anxiety, I think we can all relate to it, but in much more varied degrees. Some feel it very keenly and regularly, and some seldom experience it in any meaningful or discernible way. But it is still one that is real—not just in your modern era, but ever since the Fall.

So, Philippians 4, we’ll read from verse 4, just a few verses:

  Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice.
  Let your moderation be known unto all men.
  The Lord is at hand.
  Be careful for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God.
  And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
  Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue and if there be any praise, think on these things.

Amen. We’ll end the reading at the eighth verse. Trusting God will bless the reading of His Word. And what you have heard is the infallible and errant Word of the living God, which you are to receive, and you are to believe, and you are to obey. And the people of God said, “Amen.”

Let’s pray.

Lord, help us. We ask for the grace we need to be better equipped for living in this fallen world. We do not know everything, and even where we may have known success in the past, the future is unknown to us. We think of Job and how steady, how certain, how predictable his life was. And yet, in a moment, his life was turned upside down. And we pray that thou wilt graciously help us to respond in a way that honors our God. We can’t control, we can’t dictate, we can’t predict all eventualities or what will unfold in our lives, but oh, that we might have grace to respond in a way that honors our God. So help us tonight, and thou knowest the need, thou knowest the heart, thou knowest the individuals, and we pray simply for victory over the enemy, and anything that stands in opposition to the running and furtherance of thy word and thy kingdom. Please now shut us in and pour out the Holy Spirit in power. We pray in Jesus’ name, amen.

Although we live in one of the most secure, safe, and predictable generations in all of human history, we are told by those who make up these statistics and record the health of the nation of America that around one in five adults in this great nation struggle with the issue of anxiety. One in five—close to 20%. Now, the way those percentages are divided skews more heavily with regard to females than it does to males, but it averages around 20%. And yet, this is not a new experience. Forms of worry or fear—or what we might call anxiety—are prevalent in the Scriptures, and I ask you, even at this early stage, to turn to the 55th Psalm. Turn to Psalm 55. I think it’s important for us to at least recognize that there are many Scriptures we could turn to, but this is the one that I’m turning your attention to this evening, Psalm 55, and I’m not going to read all the psalm. It’s fairly lengthy, but I’ll just read the opening verses:

  And I said, “Give ear to my prayer, O God, and hide not thyself from my supplication.
  Attend unto me, and hear me.”
  I mourn in my complaint, and make a noise; because of the voice of the enemy, because of the oppression of the wicked:
  “For they cast iniquity upon me, and in wrath they hate me.
  My heart is sore pained within me, and the terrors of death are fallen upon me.
  Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, and horror hath overwhelmed me.
  And I said, ‘Oh, that I had wings like a dove: for then would I fly away, and be at rest;’”
  Selah.

You can see in this language someone who is deeply troubled, feeling a real sense of worry and an imminent sense of danger. Fearfulness, he describes—fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, and horror hath overwhelmed me. These feelings, as I say, are not new. Experiences of deep concern where we wonder about the future, the uncertainty of what is ahead, grip upon our souls. The troubles rise like storm clouds, covering us, threatening our lives. A sense of dread is found in the language of David here, especially as I say in verse 5—a desire in verses 6 and 7 to get away from it all, to somehow escape the feeling and the circumstances he finds himself in.

Now, some live in what may be described as an almost constant state of dread, their minds regularly racing with language that questions what may happen—what if this or what if that or the other? And their hearts are weighed down by these troubles, whether real or imagined. Now, if you don’t struggle with anxiety or this kind of worry, then a lot of this is just going to bounce off you or wash over you. But if you feel this regularly, then you’re going to completely understand what we’re talking about here and know that it’s something you wrestle with.

I’ve drawn your attention to Philippians 4 because in this text we are given by God a clear and powerful command: to be careful for nothing, verse 6—be careful for nothing. That is, do not be anxious for anything. It does not say, “Try to be less anxious.” It does not encourage us to limit our worry, our anxiety, our care, as it is here in the language of our Bible, but to cast it away entirely—to be rid of it—to be not anxious for anything at all, but rather to come before God in prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, and let your requests be made known unto God; and the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. This is the remedy for it. And we’ll see that a little more as we go further.

But I want us then to think about the subject of anxiety, trying to understand it a little more. It’s a huge topic—like many of the subjects we’re dealing with. Really, all I am doing is giving a primer, a very simple overview that I trust, in due course—whether it’s relevant now or in the future—will come back to your mind and at least provide some kind of scriptural, biblical platform for you to begin to address whatever it may be; whether it be, as we’ve considered, doubt and regret and so on and so forth, or whether it be something like anxiety, that you’ll at least have some kind of platform—you are not left suspended, unsure of what to do, or even if you are dealing with something completely unique to yourself.

So I’m using again the same headings, and we come then, firstly, to the character of anxiety. What is its character? What do we mean by anxiety? One definition given is: anxiety is an emotion characterized by feelings of tension, worried thoughts, and physical changes like increased blood pressure. Anxiety is not the same as fear, but they are often used interchangeably. Anxiety is considered a future-oriented, long-acting response broadly focused on a diffuse threat, whereas fear is an appropriate, present-oriented and short-lived response to a clearly identifiable and specific threat. So in that definition, when we sometimes lump fear and anxiety together—and I think we can, in context, use it interchangeably—but using the categories here, notice the distinction between that which is a present threat upon my life and the feeling of fear, as distinct from this looking into the future and feeling what may feel similar to fear but is more tied to what we describe as anxiety—a worry that is more future-oriented and about what may or may not occur.

Now, some of the old writers distinguish between different types of care. They talk about legitimate prudence—the cares that are legitimate—and then contrasting this with distrustful worry, as some of them describe it. So legitimate prudence includes things that pertain to godly foresight and good stewardship. You’re looking ahead, you’re making preparations, you recognize that there are things you need to take care of. And that’s legitimate prudence. And you might say, “Well, do you have a care about getting those crops in and the harvest and all the particulars, aspects, details, and stages of a successful crop? And do you have a certain care?” Well, there is. And there’s planning that goes into those kinds of things, just as there may be in all sorts of areas of life. And so this is legitimate prudence. It’s not the same as this kind of sinful anxiety or care—this distrustful care, which is more manifested as a consuming preoccupation with a sense of self-reliance.

Now, how do you discern whether or not this is legitimate or sinful, whether you’re responding to circumstances in a way that, “Well, this is legitimate; we have—way, we’re very adept,” as you know, “to justify things and try to say, ‘This is legitimate.’” And we can tell ourselves or tell other people—if they might say to us, “Spouse might say, ‘I think you’re worrying a little bit too much about this,’” and we will respond with language that suggests, “No, you’re not understanding the gravity of the circumstances, and you’re not getting what’s actually going on and what might happen here. We need to prepare. There needs to be this, that, and the other.” So when it comes to those times where you find, depending on the characteristics, personality, and circumstances, there is a measure of debate over whether something is legitimate or sinful, how do you try and work through that to see whether it is legitimate or not? And this, again, is just some guidance that may help you as you work through this: What am I feeling right now? Is this sinful or is it not?

Well, let me suggest five things. One, prays; the other does not. One prays; the other does not. When it is legitimate, you will tend to pray. You’re preparing, you’re making plans, you’re seeking God, you’re putting it before Him. Worry and anxiety tend to be so caught up with itself that it does not truly seek God in this way and becomes more of a prayerless posture. Two, one experiences peace; the other does not. Three, one allows for sleep; the other does not. Four, one is an expression of obedience to God; the other is not. Five, one exhibits the fruit of the Spirit; the other does not. Now, instilling those five aspects that you can test what you’re going through against—I would say, too, that it’s not an all-or-nothing; when it’s legitimate, you have all five. I think there are times when you can be certainly prayerful and experiencing a measure of even peace and dealing with it in a godly way, and yet still sleep will escape you. And there may be, of course, a time where you seem to fulfill most of these things, and yet it’s still sinful. So it does take a measure of judgment. But I use that as a way to at least narrow down and have more clarity about what I am doing right now—what is going on in my life right now? Is this a legitimate concern, a kind of stewardship in relation to the circumstances, or is this a sinful worry? An excessive concern that we are forbidden from having according to Philippians 4 verse 6: “Be careful for nothing.” It’s forbidden. It’s not legitimate. So you have to assess in your own heart and life, and you start looking at yourself: Am I, as I deal with this, expressing the fruit of the Spirit? Is charity coming from me? Love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance—are these things being manifest in my life, or are they being quenched? Am I more showing the fruits of the flesh, the works of the flesh? So again, you have to assess this yourself. You have to look at it, and maybe those close to you can help you and say, “You know, I know you’re trying to justify this and say that this is legitimate, but as I look and read this matter, it seems like you’re not really seeking God. You’re not living in a godly way. You’re communicating an attitude that is discouraging rather than encouraging.” You’re causing the whole life of the home and everything to be robbed of joy and peace—assessing all of that in an honest way before God.

But in short, anxiety is a restless, troubled heart. And for Christians, it is a mind often torn between trust in God and fear of what may come. You’re in this tension as a believer. This is largely what I’m addressing here. I’m not dealing with anxiety for the world; I’m thinking about Christians who will and do experience these inner battles. Anxiety can often be likened to carrying a future burden in the strength of the present. So you can imagine this scenario in which you’re having to carry burdens, and you have an obligation for each day, and so you have a certain allotment of duty and responsibility—“Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof”—and you’re meant to assess what is to be dealt with today and address that and carry that. And God’s promised strength is to deal with the present. He gives strength for today. What anxiety—sinful anxiety and worry—does is it tends to reach into the future and lump extra weights and burdens and cares onto the present that God has not equipped you or asked you to carry. As such, it can become overwhelming because we’re adding burdens that God does not intend us to carry in the moment.

The Puritans—though not using our modern terminology—they understood the experience of anxiety. There are many of them who wrote, and it comes up in a lot of their works. They touch on it in various ways. You find them discussing the kind of concern and worry that fills the heart when there’s an experience of what they might term spiritual desertion—when you’re abandoned by God, or you feel like you’ve been abandoned by God. We also have this attitude that they recognize within our frame of being; well, they would use the old term, melancholy. Now, that will come into our subject of depression when we look at that. But again, they’re recognizing a kind of how these things are tied together: worry, depression or melancholy, and how we may feel these things. Others noted that one of the things—certainly, I think, as we look back and read some of the Puritans—is that I’m not sure they were always aware of a certain scruple, the scruples with which they assess their own spirituality. There can be a form of hyper—if I can use that term—hyper-pietism that actually multiplies anxiety in the heart. I say that with great caution because I think mostly in our day there is a tendency to be complacent in spiritual things and to not look for sin, to disregard sin, to not pursue holiness with any sense of strict discipline or desire. But I recognize—and some of you, this may be true—there’s a tendency to a harshness in the soul, an overexcessive, hyper-pietistic frame that is constantly anxious about, obsessed with, a form of holy living that may appear in many respects to be honorable and good, and yet you assess the fruit of it, and it is not bringing the peace that God says will be true for His people. You can read some of them—I think I could give names, but I’ll not do it—but certainly I’ve come across and read writings, and I would say that especially in the early part of my Christian life, I had a tendency to lean that way.

When you come out of the world, when you come out of a life that is self-absorbed with no thought of God and no consideration of spiritual things at all, God confronts you, convicts you, saves you—and He’s doing a work—and you’re throwing yourself into the means of grace. You’re reading everything that you can; you’re attending every meeting available to you; and your mind is entirely consumed with the thought of walking in obedience to God. It leaves you open to writings and to a manner of spirituality that, I would say, does not give peace. It can lend itself to a sort of anxiety of soul where peace escapes you in this relentless pursuit—not of seeking Christ, but of constantly examining your own life, looking inward instead of upward. Again, measuring these things, assessing them, are not easy matters. When you read certain men of the past and even some in the present, I think we have to be careful about this.

So, a few things—just, and I speak generally here—about the character of anxiety. I’ll say three things. First, anxiety divides the heart. Anxiety divides the heart. The word used here in Philippians 4 verse 6, “careful,” comes from a root word which contains the idea of being drawn in different directions. And this is what happens for the Christian. This care pulls you in different directions. I’ve already intimated that sense of trying to trust God while at the same time having this excessive, sinful worry or anxiety. So anxiety then—this care—splits the soul, tugging us and pulling us in two different directions at the same time: endeavoring to trust God while simultaneously fearing what may come. It’s as if faith and a form of fear lock horns. You’re just left in the tension of this. You say, “I trust God,” but somewhere that trust is being supplanted or undermined by this fear that is in tension with your trust in God. The general principle our Lord reveals in Matthew 6:24 might be helpful here. He says, “No man can serve two masters.” No man can serve two masters. That general principle applies across the board. A sense of trying to serve two masters—two distractions, as it were, two things that are absorbing our attention—means that you serve neither in the way that they ought to be served. And this is what happens with anxiety. You’re endeavoring as a Christian to trust God, while at the same time there’s this other master in the soul, and you have to choose one or the other. So anxiety divides the heart—it puts another master in place that makes it very difficult to live the Christian life in the way that it should.

Secondly, anxiety distorts perspective. It not only divides the heart, it distorts perspective. The Lord Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 6:27 says, “Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?” You know, the idea of—like, he’s throwing the ludicrous out there: can you, by thought, by worry, by the power of the will, add to your stature? The obvious answer is no. Worry cannot lengthen our lives. It cannot add to our joy. It cannot prevent tomorrow’s troubles. It is powerless. And so, which of you, by thought, can change things like your stature or things like your future? The answer, of course, is no one can do this. If a man was to come and tell you that he is attempting to worry himself into a longer life, you would look at him and you might say, “Have you seen your doctor recently?” You know, you know the obviousness of that. You can’t worry yourself into a longer life. What would you say to him, trying to be polite? I’m not sure—you might want to say to him, “I think you’re delusional.” But if I were to ask you, if someone came in that way, what sin are they exhibiting? Are they exhibiting a sin? “I’m going to worry myself into a longer life,” or “I’m gonna worry myself into more riches. I’m gonna worry myself into making sure there’s bread on the table tomorrow.” What sin is at play there? I think there are a number. But one that it seems to escape us, I believe, is the sin of pride. The thought that you can do something like that is an inflation of ability that can only be built upon thoughts that descend from pride. Turn for a moment to 1 Peter 5.

Now, when I say these things, I am aware that some who, as I say, struggle with this have a tendency in this regard. There are certain struggles that commonly are met with resistance, such as, “It’s just the way I am.” And without getting sidetracked—that could be an answer for a catalog of every sin under the sun—it’s just the way I am. You struggle with anger. “It’s just the way I am.” My father was this way. My grandfather was this way. His father was that way. But all you’re doing is making allowance for something that God’s Word and God’s Spirit do not make allowance for. The fact that we may have a predisposition does not change the work of the Spirit of God, the revealed will of God in the Word, and how we are to pray and handle ourselves before God in growing in grace and likeness to Christ. The thing is, anger is a little easier to attack, nonsense. If I tell a man that his anger is not acceptable, it’s probably easier than if I tell a man, “Your anxiety is not acceptable.” And so what I say here, especially as I turn your attention to 1 Peter 5—what I’m saying here is not intended to make light of your experience. I wouldn’t make light of the experience of a man who grew up in a household where anger was the norm and he could see through his descendants the same pattern. I would not make light of that thing. It’s real. But it doesn’t take away the fact that it needs to be addressed according to God’s Word.

So 1 Peter 5, you know verse 7 very well: “Casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you.” Let me ask this question, and then I will—obviously I’m not asking you to answer it out loud—but try to answer it in your head: What type of people does He have in mind in 1 Peter 5:7? Who is He saying these words to? “Casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you.” Verse 5: “Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder. Ye, all of you, be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.” He’s addressing, in some ways, the fruit of a particular sin. The sin is pride. One of the fruits of it is that young men would not submit to the elder. When a young man doesn’t submit to the elder, his issue is not just a submission issue—it’s pride. Pride is at the heart. He will not accept the distinctions in the order of this world. A son will not respect the distinction of his father, or whatever categories you may look at in the course of this world. So He’s addressing pride. So, “Submit yourselves unto the elder; yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.” In other words, the proud don’t get divine help; the humble do. God comes to the aid of those who are humble. They’re broken in the contrite heart; He will not despise the humble who say, “God, I can’t do this; I need your help.” God comes in and says, “Certainly, I will help you.” The proud, who believe that they don’t need divine help, are resisted by God, and so they stand on their own strength.

And so then He exhorts in verse 6: “‘Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you.’” Those who struggle with their pride do not just exhibit it in ways like not submitting to their elder. Not submitting to their elders is an expression that they won’t submit to God. It’s a fifth commandment issue expressed spiritually and practically. It is an issue that is deep in the heart of man, in which his rebellion against his father, his rebellion against his master, his rebellion against any authority, is often a reflection of his rebellion against God Himself. He is proud. He believes he has all that he needs in himself, and so he does not cast his cares upon God; he holds on to them. He tries to address them himself, or he just, in a stoic fashion, tries to endure all of them as best as he can. But he is not humbling himself and giving them to God.

I want you to see, because I think there is a tonic in 1 Peter 5 for this issue of worry, anxiety, and sinful care: Who is to cast their care upon Him? The casting of care upon God is a posture of humility where you’re finally giving up and saying, “I don’t have everything that I need. I don’t have the power. I don’t have the wisdom. I don’t have the answers.” Indeed, in God’s providence, God has put elders and parents and masters in my life that I am to listen to and to hear their counsel—except where they ask me to sin explicitly. He is addressing that. Are you seeing? Do you see the connection with dealing with the younger and the elder? All of a sudden, He gets to casting cares upon God because it’s the same problem. And ultimately, at the root of it, I say—and this is what I need you to understand—is that at the root of it is not, when you’re looking at anxiety, you’re looking at the fruit. The root sin is pride.

Now, why should you hear that? And instead of wanting to throw things at me, why should you hear that with a sense of relief? Well, let me tell you why there’s a sense of relief. When you say that you’re anxious and it’s just the way you are, then you’re fixed—and there’s nothing that can be done about it. That’s the way it is, and there’s no relief there. But when you say it is pride, and God comes to help the humble—if I can just humble myself, if I can just get to the place where I am humble before God, look what He promises: that He will give grace to the humble; He will give what is necessary. In those times when you’re overwhelmed with concerns, He comes in with His grace, and you’re able to work through it, endure it, and give to God what pertains to Him—casting your care upon Him, or doing what Philippians 4 verse 6 says: “Be careful for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God.” This is directed to those who struggle with pride. And we all struggle with pride.

Anxiety not only divides the heart, it distorts perspective. We do not see that it’s pride; we do not see that we’re standing in a position of personal sovereignty and inflated wisdom. We think we have the strength and the power to address the issues. We believe we have the wisdom to control, and we think we know what the outcome should be. And so, anxiety distrusts God’s care. Not only does it divide the heart and distort perspective, it distrusts God’s care. Ultimately, anxiety questions the character of God. It questions God, whether explicitly or implicitly. Sometimes it’s asked—you think of the psalm, where the psalmist expresses, “Can God furnish a table in the wilderness? Can He provide?” But sometimes it’s not so explicit; it’s just the way we go about it, like we’re ignoring God. So really, when we’re ignoring Him, it’s still the same question: Will He provide? Will He sustain? Will He bring me through? Will He really do what is best? We’re calling into question His faithfulness; we’re calling into question His wisdom; we’re calling into question His goodness. Anxiety—we act as if God has left us like orphans to ourselves. We look and say, “He feeds the sparrows and He clothes the lilies,” but I need to address this issue: I’m on my own.

So that’s the character of anxiety. What are the causes of it? What are the causes? Why does it arise? We’ve touched on some of these things, but let’s look at this a little more. Again, Christian writers of the past often do a better job than modern writers in perceiving the spiritual roots of anxiety. But even modern writers, I think, help by identifying different causes for different kinds of anxiety or expressions of anxiety: generalized anxiety disorder is one category; panic attacks, social anxiety, trauma-induced anxiety, and so on—different contexts, similar manifestations, but the context is different. You look at what’s causing this in a person, and you see, “Well, this, that, or the other.” I’m also going to say something that not everyone would agree with, but I think is important. I think we have to understand that there are—at least it’s certainly very likely—that in some expressions of anxiety in some people, it’s tied to the physical frame. It’s accentuated by not feeding the body correctly. Deficiencies in B vitamins, vitamin D, magnesium, omega-3s, and so on—they mess with the brain. I think modern science is seeing that. I’m not gonna say it’s going to solve the issue—it’s not. I think we have to be aware that how we fuel our body in some way will have an effect. Some people, their sight degenerates—not just through age, but because of the sheer volume of sugar that they take. They say, “Why am I losing my sight?” Well, it’s how much sugar you’re taking; it has an effect on everything. And it begins to affect, ultimately, things like sight and other things too because you’re not fueling the body. “What’s wrong with my sight?” Well, it’s how you’re fueling the body. I think the same is true in this regard as well. I say this not because I intend to go into the medical side and start giving you a list of what quantity of vitamin D you need to be at optimum, but I’m stating it so that I open the door—because perhaps some of you, at least, need to look at this. You’re struggling with anxiety all the time; it’s a persistent problem. Maybe it happens at certain times of the year, and so on. You feel it; other times you feel much better; other times it seems to be a constant oppressive experience. You may want to go and get your blood work, have it checked—full scope of seeing everything and what it says—see where there may be a deficiency. And you might be surprised. There’s a massive deficiency in one or two areas that pertain to this. So you look at it and all of a sudden you address that and you realize that some of this is physical.

Now, I know some will look at this and say anxiety is a sin problem solely and exclusively. But I have huge problems with that because it seems to ignore the fact that we are holistic beings—in a body, in a fallen world that affects not just our spirituality but our mentality and our framing. It affects all sorts of areas of our living, massively. It seems to be short-sighted to not at least give allowance to the fact that the way we fuel our body—or the way we do not—might have an effect on how we think.

But let’s say that that’s not the issue. Let’s say that, because we know there are teenagers who are in the prime of their life— they’re as healthy as they could be—it’ll be a long time before they have major, massive deficiencies in some areas physically, or whatever, and yet they are overcome by anxiety. Why? Well, unbelief is one. The root of all sinful anxiety is a failure to trust God. And we see this illustrated for us in Scripture all the time. The Israelites—just look at the history of the children of Israel. Across the Red Sea, amazing deliverance—they see the power of God, and as soon as they lack water, it’s, “Why did you bring us out here to perish in the wilderness?” Many other examples could be given. Doubt, unbelief—and so it is with us to this day. We may believe God in theory. We may say, “I’m a Christian. I believe God made the world, and I believe He sent His Son to be the Savior of the world. I believe that by trusting in Him, I am justified freely by His grace. I believe that my sins are all put away, that the cross of Jesus Christ is sufficient to put away all my sin. And I believe Jesus Christ will return, and I will forever be with the Lord. I’m certain that He rose again, and He is living in the power of an endless life.” We acknowledge this, and we sing about it on the Lord’s Day—and then Monday comes and we’re paralyzed by fear. And the Lord would say to you, “Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?” That’s the problem: Why are you so fearful? You have no faith. Unbelief. Anxiety flourishes where faith is weak.

Idolatry—that’s another one. Many fears arise, anxieties flourish because we have placed our hope in things that are not meant to bear the weight of our trust. And so we rely on our bank balance and our 401ks and our financial stability, and then the economy changes; things are different. We’re all looking at Social Security, and we’re being told that in 10 years it’ll be depleted and it’s all gone. If you haven’t heard that and now you’re worried—sorry about that; didn’t mean to add to your anxiety. Maybe Elon Musk can fix it, I don’t know. But idolatry—what is this idolatry? We’re looking at it. So sure, I’ve done everything I could; everything will be fine—and then it goes away. Where was the trust? We rest in our health; we’re so well—strong, capable—then sickness comes, and we don’t know what to do. We’re devastated. We lean on people, on human relationships—trusting them more heavily than we ought. And sometimes they fail us. What does the Lord say? “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart.” Some trust in chariots, some in horses. We remember the name of the Lord our God. And what we do is we make idols—idols of, as I say, money and security and health and relationships. And then providence shatters it or takes it away, and we realize that we weren’t trusting Him.

Then there’s self-reliance. This is a form of idolatry, but I think it needs to be distinguished separately. The cause for this is self-reliance. We crave control; we wish to secure the outcome. We want to dictate what will happen tomorrow. We try to foresee every eventuality and prepare for it—and we do so in a way that, again, goes beyond legitimate prudence. We do so in a way where we are taking all thought for the moral, which Jesus told us not to do. We don’t recognize that God has not given us the power to control. He is sovereign, but we’re acting like we’re sovereign. Your task, believers, is not to orchestrate the future, but to trust the One who holds it. You’re to trust Him no matter what. Again, there’s legitimate prudence, there’s good stewardship, there’s planning, there’s foreseeing the evil. These things are legitimate, but they can go to excess and mask our idolatry of self. In scriptural terminology, ultimately we are not trusting God. And so when things don’t go according to plan, what happens to us? We’re struck with anxiety.

So, what’s the cure? Well, many of the messages that we have given so far have come to the conclusion—and it has been pretty much the same in various ways and directions: Run to Christ. In that 55th Psalm, near the end of that Psalm, beyond where we read, David says, “Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee: He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.” I never saw it before preparing for this sermon, but you could almost make an argument that perhaps when Paul writes in Philippians 4 verse 6, he has Psalm 55 in mind. And that text, I think it’s verse 17, I’m not sure, is, “‘Cast thy burden upon the Lord,’ and He shall sustain thee; ye shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.” It seems in verses 6 and 7, “Be careful for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God; and the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” You’ll not be moved.

So, what are we to do? Well, you see it in verse 6 of Philippians 4—two things, really simple. Turn care into prayer. Be careful for nothing but in everything by prayer. Turn care into prayer. Every time you feel that anxiety—the worry, the cares coming upon your soul—turn it into prayer. It doesn’t matter what it is or when it is. When it grips, pray. When it begins to control, pray. When it begins to cloud the vision, pray. And remember that the root of the anxiety is not anxiety; it is pride. And if you do that, it will help you.

I’m telling you now, I know you want to throw things at me because it exposes anxiety to be a fruit of sin. And you don’t want to think that this perennial issue and problem that you’re dealing with is a sin in your life. But that’s why it sticks—because until you acknowledge it to be a sin and go in humility to God and ask for His grace to flood in, you’re going to stand in your own strength, which is what God does for the proud. He resists them. He leaves them to themselves. When we begin to acknowledge it for what it is, then He floods in His grace, and the throne of grace is open. “Be careful for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication.” The idea of supplication allows for the delineating of the cares, of making the specific requests, of telling God what it is that is bothering you—of giving it over to God, of naming those cares, not just the feeling of care. You’re not just coming to God with the feeling of care and saying, “Take away the feeling of care.” You’re able to mention the cause of the care, of the anxiety. List them, name them. “I have a son. He’s refusing your word. He’s resisting going to the house of God. It’s causing anxiety in my heart, Lord.” And you name it, and you give it to Him. You see changes in your place of employment. You begin to wonder about the future—what’s it going to mean for me and my family? And you bring it, and you name it, and you cast the care. You name the care. You give the specific care to God. And your children come to you and they’re worried, but they won’t give you the specifics of their concern. You say, “I’m worried; will you help me? What’s the first thing you’re going to say? What is it, son? What is it, daughter?” And if they say, “I don’t want to name it; I just generally have this feeling of worry,” you’re going to be worried even more because you want to know the specifics. “Give me the specifics to see if I can help you.” And God, in His condescension and mercy to us, says to you, “Give the specific; name the care; detail it before me. My grace will be sufficient for you.” It’s expressed in that hymn we sing: “All your anxiety, all your care, bring to the mercy seat. Leave it there. Bring it.” So turn care into prayer. The other thing is, turn grief for the future into gratitude for the past. Turn grief for the future into gratitude for the past. This is the detail often overlooked. “Be careful for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving.” Replace your anxiety not just with prayer, but with particular types of prayer. Why? Why would Paul say this? Is it just words? Is it just supplication with thanksgiving? Is it just throwing it out there? No! It means so much! Thanksgiving causes you to look back. It causes you to see what God has already done. It causes you to meditate upon the deliverances, experiences, the faithfulness already known. Thanksgiving, gratitude, is turning your mind away from the future—which you cannot control—to the past, where you can see He was in control; where you can recognize how He was in control; where you can tell your story of how He was in control; where you can say, “Providence governed, God was in control. God led every step of the way. I being in the way, the Lord led me.” I can say that with hindsight. And that’s what thanksgiving is: a deliberate effort to look back and say, “Thank you, God, for this,” and for all those other experiences that, though may not be exactly the same as your present worry and concern, certainly cast a shadow over the present. And they cause you to interpret the present in light of how you’ve seen deliverance in the past.

Thanksgiving—gratitude—turn grief for the future into gratitude for the past. Believer, that’s it. Yes, you’re running to Christ, but in these specific ways with your anxiety: care into prayer, grief for the future into gratitude for the past. That is God’s medicine for this issue. That makes it harder. Do not become comfortable living with this. Some of you might be able to say, “This has been a part of my life for years. I may even have, in some way, become familiar with it. It’s like a comfort to me. I’ve managed to get through life despite it up to this point.” And so it’s just a machinery—the cogs are turning—that this is the way you respond to the cares of life. But it is a thief. If you allow it to live there, you might as well have your door open in your neighborhood and just leave it open for anyone and everyone to come in and rob all that’s there. And that’s what anxiety does: you leave the door open for it to come in and rob you of all the fruit of the Spirit. You can’t feel love and joy and peace and longsuffering and gentleness and goodness and faith and meekness and temperance. These things cannot be seen in you or enjoyed by you. So it dishonors God.

And yet here He has given you the answer in His Word: be careful for nothing. Make no room for it at all, ever—no matter what it is, no matter your past, no matter your circumstances. Yes, you may look to see, “Are there particular areas in which I have a propensity here that I may alleviate this issue by, as I say, certain supplements and looking after myself physically?” Certainly, that may alleviate it. But it doesn’t solve the problem. This text tells you what to do. The thing is, what’s involved in that word “nothing”? “Be careful for nothing,” or “Don’t be anxious for anything.” What’s involved in that is you could substitute it with the whole idea of providence. Everything that happens in your life—all the scenarios, all the circumstances, every detail—is governed by God. And you know the text: “All things work together for good to them that love God.” That means that whatever is involved in that word “nothing”—whatever that is—all that is in that bucket causes you this feeling of anxiety. If it’s a legitimate thing that’s going on in your life, then it’s under God’s providence. If it’s something imagined, then why are you concerned about something imaginary that God may not bring to pass in that way? And if He does, He intends it for your good. There’s no way of sanctifying this. There’s no way in which we say this does not represent an all-out assault against the sovereignty of God and His goodness to His people.

So you come back to, what is it? Just a common medical problem in American society today, or an expression of pride? I say this with all the gentleness I can muster to you: please, explore your own heart, assess it honestly before God. And I believe, though your circumstances may be different, you might have to talk with someone, work through some of the particulars of your own experience—and that’s what we’re here for. And you’re gonna find that, often lurking, masked in this word “anxiety,” is that old enemy of our souls: pride of mind. May God deliver us from it.

Let’s bow together in prayer. Again, as we come to the close of our meeting, I want you to please understand my sincere and well-meant expressions of love and care for you. These inner battles are real. As we walk through them, we’re going to find that some of us feel the cutting edge of what’s being said more than we do about other matters. The whole point is to realize there’s victory. There is victory. And you can get victory over doubt, victory over shame, and victory over regret—and victory over anxiety. Go to God. He knows your frame, and He will help you through it. Trust Him. Seek Him. Obey His Word.

God, we pray, bless thy word. Help us, help us through these things. Help us because we need help. We cannot run in our own strength; we cannot see without the grace of sight that Thou dost give. And I pray that as life unfolds for us all and brings its hardships and difficulties and its pain and its sorrow, I pray that we would prove the sufficiency of Thy grace. We know not what may be on the morrow, but Thou knowest the way that we take. And when Thou hast tried us, we will come forth as gold. Bless this people with thy peace—peace that passeth all understanding. Be with us through this week. Help us to think through what we have heard, to understand it and apply it. May the grace of our Lord Jesus, the love of God our Father, and the fellowship of the Spirit be the portion of all the people of God, now and evermore.

Amen.