Carson Samson

Consider Jesus; he is all-powerful and has authority over Earth, yet he is kind, humble, compassionate, and generous. What human being could possess such stature and not eventually trade godliness for more power and prestige? Not me. I never have enough.

“Consider the birds of the sky: They don’t sow or reap or gather into barns,” says Jesus. Matthew 6:26-33 CSB “Yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth more than they?”

Now I could argue that even the smallest birds are more worthy than we are, but I have a thing for birds. He continues, “Can any of you add one moment to his life by worrying? And why do you worry about clothes? Observe how the wildflowers of the field grow: they don’t labor or spin thread. Yet I tell you not even Solomon in all his splendor was adorned like one of these.”

Apparently, Solomon was a pretty sharp dresser. He was also very wise, though not without his faults, sometimes called the wisest fool. Anyway, in this instance, I think Solomon represents the lavish materials of the world; still, it begs my earlier question of who could resist trading goodness for fame and fortune.

OK, let’s keep going, back to Jesus: “If that’s how God clothes the grass of the field, what is here today and thrown into the furnace tomorrow, won’t he do much more for you—you of little faith?”

You of little faith, that’s me, by the way. Alright, let’s not make everything about me: that’s folks like you and me. Sorry to have thrown you under the bus, faithful friend.

And here’s the best part. Jesus then says, “So don’t worry about saying ‘what will we eat?’ or ‘what will we drink?’ or ‘what will we wear?’…But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be provided to you.”

All these things? Everything we need.

Everything we need? Really? 

Several years ago, I was asked to recite the Sermon on the Mount at church. I memorized the entire text over several nights of pacing the kitchen floor; when the time came, I dressed in period costume (at least I’m pretty sure I did), and proudly pranced about. Look at me—I’m Jesus! There’s plenty in scripture extolling humility, but it boils down to being like Jesus. Here I was being like Jesus, but in every way, exactly like Carson. 

Let’s say we go all in and receive this blessing; how long before we go looking for more somewhere else? Looking at you, Solomon. Looking at you, Carson.

If only I knew the person I was, and more importantly, the person I would be in the years to follow, maybe I would have carried myself with more reverence for the text and the sanctity of the Speaker. Then again, maybe not: I am still the same greedy, selfish, and arrogant guy, grasping for power and authority, short on kindness, humility, compassion, and generosity. What I wouldn’t give for just an ounce of God’s wisdom these days—what I wouldn’t give to turn from my temptations and unhealthy attachments, and experience the freedom birds must feel as they take to the sky.

Consider the birds of the sky. Consider Jesus.

Postscript.

Jesus said much more from the mountain; I have only touched on a part of it. You may have noticed that I skipped over a verse or two; they’re verses I’d like to come back to later. I also want to look at this in light of how privileged I am: What is it like to follow the commands of Jesus, to give up all you own when you don’t have much to begin with, and your life experience is of poverty and struggle? It will take more time for me to see things from a perspective I don’t have and often fail to empathize with.

And what of the criticism laid on terms like “don’t worry about your life, don’t worry about anything” from those who suffer from mental illness, and those who treat and advocate for them? It’s a complicated, messy subject that’s been heavily debated. I’ll come back to this too when I find the courage to.

But for now, let’s hit pause and consider Jesus.