By Steven Norris
We all know the standard phobias: arachnophobia (fear of spiders), claustrophobia (fear of enclosed spaces), or acrophobia (fear of heights). What about some of the less common ones? Maybe you suffer from arithmophobia (fear of numbers), genuphobia (fear of knees), sesquipedalophobia (fear of big words), or even chronophobia (fear of the future).
We laugh at these, but phobias of any kind can be tough, even paralyzing or debilitating in some extreme instances. These fears can keep us from receiving and living into God’s plan for our lives. In his famous Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells us, “do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (I would encourage you to read the whole passage Matthew 6:25-34 for context.)
I was going through an old Bible recently and came across some quotes written in the front cover that I wanted to remember. One of them was an old proverb: “Pray as if everything depended on God. Live as if everything depends on you.” In my youthful enthusiasm, this felt like good advice to preserve in red ink. With time and maturity, I must admit that it has not aged well, and it now stands as a testament to my own need for careful discernment.
Living as if everything depends entirely on me might also be pessimistically described as “functional atheism.” I might say that I believe in God or a higher power, but my life would likely fail to reflect those commitments. Our Western American culture often appears to function under the assumption that our future is completely dependent on personal effort and success. Does that reflect your experience or are there places where you can point to God’s intervention that went well beyond your own ability?
As you consider that, look at the ways you are preparing for your future. In many of my travels, I have been exposed to Christians around the world who understand viscerally Jesus’ instruction to pray for “daily bread.” I cannot help but wonder if my own Western American abundance has been more of a hinderance to following the way of Jesus than a blessing.
When I picture myself trying to follow this itinerant rabbi, I must admit that I am loaded down with all the food in mypantry; my life savings and retirement; my three, five, and ten-year plans; my college degrees, my library of books and professional training; my collection of musical instruments. It is a rather comical mental picture. What do these possessions say about where I am truly storing up treasures? What do they say about where I am placing my trust?
To “travel light” as we follow Jesus means that we exchange self-reliance for dependence on Christ. It means letting go of our anxiety about the future because we serve One who has already gone before us and holds our future in His capable hands. It means honestly wrestling with Jesus’ command and its corresponding promise: “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things will be added as well.”