s of Jesus any
encouragement to thriftlessness are but misrepresenting Him and
deceiving themselves. Every man, who is not either a rogue or a fool,
must take thought for the morrow; at least, if he does not, some one
must for him, or the morrow will avenge itself upon him without mercy.
What our Lord forbids is not prudent foresight, but worry: "Be ye not
_anxious_!" The word which Christ uses ((Greek: merimnate)) is a very
suggestive one; it describes the state of mind of one who is drawn in
different directions, torn by internal conflict, "distracted," as we
say, where precisely the same figure of speech occurs. A similar counsel
is to be found in another and still more striking word which only Luke
has recorded, and which is rendered, "Neither be ye of doubtful mind."
There is a picture in the word ((Greek: meteorizesthe)) the picture of a
vessel vexed by contrary winds, now uplifted on the crest of some huge
wave, now labouring in the trough of the sea. "Be ye not thus," Christ
says to His disciples, "the sport of your cares, driven by the wind and
tossed; but let the peace of God rule in your hearts, and be ye not of
doubtful mind."

It cannot surprise us that Jesus should speak thus; rather should we
have been surprised if it had been otherwise. How could He speak to men
at all and yet be silent about their cares? For how full of care the
lives of most men are! One is anxious about his health, and another
about his business; one is concerned because for weeks he has been
without work, and another because his investments are turning out badly;
some are troubled about their children, and some there are who are
making a care even of their religion, and instead of letting it carry
them are trying to carry it; until, with burdens of one kind or another,
we are like a string of Swiss pack-horses, such as one may sometimes
see, toiling and straining up some steep Alpine pass under a blazing
July sun. Poor Martha, with her sad, tired face, and nervous, fretful
ways, "anxious and troubled about many things," is everywhere to-day.
Nor is it the poor only whose lives are full of care. It was not a poor
man amid his poverty, but a rich man amid his riches, who, in Christ's
parable, put to himself the question, "What shall I do?" The birds of
care build their nests amid the turrets of a palace as readily as in the
thatched roof of a cottage. The cruel thorns--"the cares of this life,"
as Jesus calls them--which choke the good