1 Peter 5:7

THE REMEDY FOR CARE

‘Casting all your care [anxiety] upon Him; for he careth for you.’

1 Peter 5:7

In just a few simple words, not as appealing to the intellect, but to the heart, let me seek to enforce the duty and the encouragement which these words of St. Peter set before us.

I. A preliminary inquiry of importance is this: on whom does the duty fall, and who are those that may claim the encouragement? None surely can or will cast their anxieties upon God who have not first cast their sins upon Him. We must feel Him bearing that burden from our consciences before we shall come with confidence to commit our anxieties to Him. It is to the tried friend alone that we entrust the secrets of our soul. It is to the warm, loving, parental heart and to the strong parental arm that the child turns with confidence when any cloud, be it never so trivial or transient, passes over the brightness of its young life. So with ourselves. I can never cast my anxiety upon God till I see Him, in Christ, blotting out my transgressions and casting all my sins behind His back. I cannot approach Him as a child till I know Him as a Father. He may be quite willing to bear my troubles, and to guide and comfort me under them; but I do not know it or feel it till I know and feel Him to be a reconciled and loving Father in Christ Jesus. Not till then shall I even care to cast my care upon Him.

II. Observe how personal it is.—‘ Your anxiety’; yours, each one of you. And what does St. Peter mean by ‘anxiety’? He does not mean anxiety as to the soul, but anxiety in matters relating to this life that now is: things which in their endless variety are connected with the Christian’s present experience in the various relations and duties to which he is called; matters, moreover, which, when allowed to press upon him as cares, interrupt his communion with God, and hinder his growth in Divine things. And who does not know what such care is? Who has not some anxiety to cast away? For, remember, God has never told His children that they shall be without anxieties. They are inseparable from our condition in this world. It is in human nature to feel them, and God wishes us to feel them; they are essential in God’s spiritual government. But when rightly received, and rightly used, and rightly passed through, they will be found to be blessings, even though they appear in disguise. Now these, whatever they are, whatever their nature, their number, their magnitude, with all their causes and anticipated consequences, with all their disquietudes, and fears, and connected circumstances, you are permitted—nay invited—to cast upon God. And mark, ‘all’ of them, ‘casting all your anxiety.’ Your heavenly Father would have you keep no part back from Him; there are no cares so little that you may not take them to Him; and none so little that He will not be willing to take them from you. Nothing is too trifling or too insignificant for His regard. Everything which vexes or perplexes may be laid before the Father’s mercy-seat. This is your privilege. You may take your anxieties to God, and cast them—all of them—upon Him. He encourages you, nay, He expects you, to do so. And remember you are to leave them there with Him. Some of us are willing enough to take them, but we bring them away again. We no sooner throw the load off but we pick it up again, and carry it with all its discomfort, as if we had not a heavenly Father to take it from us. Oh! for more faith, more simple obedience, more trustful reliance, in His power, His promises, and His love.

III. But turn to the encouragement.—‘ He careth for you.’ What stronger assurance do you require than this, ‘He careth for you’? How many a heart is broken in this unkind world by feeling that one does not care for us who ought to do so? It is not only that a misplaced confidence leads to disappointment; unreturned love wastes the strength and breaks the heart. But the conviction that one cares for us, a father for a child, or a friend for a friend, guarantees goodwill and any interposition which our case may demand. If you care for a person you will go through fire and water to serve him, and the conviction that you care for him will inspire comfort and reliance in his heart. Are there few such friendships in this selfish world? We place little confidence in one another, because we have each of us an end to serve for ourselves, and because so few of us really care for one another. But God brings Himself very near to His people. See Him stooping down, with His great loving heart, from His throne in the heavens. Hear the voice which once said, ‘Let there be light,’ now gently saying to the poor vexed disciple before Him, ‘Thou shalt call Me Abba, Father.’ This is the secret of it all: it is not God’s Providence; it is God’s paternal love; it is the care which is implied in that relationship. ‘I will be a Father unto them, and they shall be My people.’ There may be some who do not care for Him, but ‘ He careth for you.’ In spite of all your indifference and sins, He careth for you. He has opened His heart to you. He has made known the way of life to you. He has given His only-begotten Son to die for you. He protects you, and feeds you, and bears with you though you care not for Him.

IV. God has a special care for His true people, for those who have felt their need of a Saviour, and have cast themselves upon Christ, as one suitable, sufficient, and perfect. ‘Can a woman,’ He says, ‘forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion upon the son of her womb?’ No earthly love can exceed a mother’s. How she watches her babe, and lays it to sleep in her bosom, and fondles it, and laughs with it, and weeps with it; nay, sacrifices her own life for it. But, says God, ‘they may forget’—there are mothers who do forget—‘yet will I not forget thee’; and what can you need more? May I not appeal to some of you and ask whether you have not experienced this—whether, looking back to-day upon your past life, you can have any doubt in this particular, or in that, that God’s hand ordered it for you, when there was no power or wisdom in you to order it for yourself? Has He not shown you in repeated instances that He was thinking of you, when perhaps you were too little thinking of Him? Yes; the Lord careth for His people, and His care for them is, like Himself, unchangeable, never failing. How wretched is the condition of those who do not know what it is to be able to cast their anxieties upon God! No wonder you see such persons fretful and anxious and distracted, full of complaints of life, dissatisfied often in the midst of plenty, regarding trifles as grievous calamities, unhappy, fearful, and desponding. No wonder you see some stooping wearily under their anxieties, and well-nigh crushed by their weight. Is this your case; is it so that you know nothing of the power and solace of true religion? Begin, I say, to-day, and make real heart-work of it; you will never be happy till you rise above these cares. Whatever care oppresses you now, cast it upon your God. Is it difficult to do it? So the word implies. Just then as he stoops low, and looks far, and aims high, who throws a stone at a mark, so must you do; it must be done by earnest, humble, persevering faith. And, depend upon it, for your comfort, there are no heartbreakings and disappointments here. God never said to any, ‘Seek ye My face’ in vain. He will exceed His word of promise rather than come short of it. ‘Be careful for nothing,’ He says, ‘but in everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God, and then the peace of God which passeth all understanding shall guard your heart and mind, through Christ Jesus.’ Let us take Him at His word.

—Rev. Prebendary Eardley-Wilmot.

Illustration

‘A strange thing is taking place in this church to-day. Here is an assembly of persons, of whom there is not one who has not some kind of anxiety upon his mind; and here is the minister to stand up and say, “There is One Who is as willing as He is able, and Who is as able as He is willing, to take all those ‘cares’ upon Him.” And one would have thought, that the first instant that such a thing as that was proclaimed, there would be a thousand hearts start up, each one anxious to come and “cast” his burden and his grief upon Him. Will it be so? Here is the minister, with all his “care” towards you, and his fearful and unhappy hearers, urging them and beseeching them, perhaps for the hundredth time, only that they would let God ease them of all their troubles; and if, out of this crowd—this crowd of angry, unquiet souls—one, only one, should receive the grace of God and be happy, the minister would think it a most honoured sermon—a day greatly to be remembered. You ask, Why is this? You do not believe it. If you did believe it—that you might come and “cast” every “care” you have “upon God Who careth for you,” you would come. You do not believe it.’

(SECOND OUTLINE)

GOD’S INDIVIDUAL CARE

If there should be at this moment in this congregation one who should say to himself, ‘No; not for me. I am alone. God cannot mean it for me,’ I would, with emphasis, say to that one, ‘The Lord careth for you.’

I. None of us have a right idea of the individual feeling God has to us.—We are apt, in this matter, to measure God by ourselves; and because to us it would be an impossible effort to hold deep sympathy with a great many persons at the same moment, because at the best we only feel a general interest for the benefit of the many with whom we have to do, therefore we are in the habit of supposing that God lays down a certain general rule of kindness towards us, that He does not interpose in any particular manner for each one of His children’s welfare. But that which is a pleasure to infinite benevolence can never be a difficulty to infinite omnipotence. Is it a principle in my mind that I can only take an interest in anything just in proportion as it is dear to me? And may I not argue from that feeling in my own breast up to the infinite Creator of all things, and see in the fact that He created every atom, that He has an individual interest in every atom? And if an earthly father can have a tender affection for each one of his children—so that his love is not less for each individual because it extends to them all—how shall I doubt that the great Parent of all has an individual affection for each one of His great family?

II. And Scripture confirms the thought.—It tells us of One Who ‘counts the hairs’ and ‘telleth all our wanderings.’ It speaks of Him as a Brother ‘touched with every feeling of our infirmities,’ and that ‘in all our affliction He was afflicted’; and that ‘the Angel of His presence saveth us.’ He writes ‘sighs’ in ‘a book’; He puts ‘tears’ in a ‘bottle.’ He ‘calls every man by his own name.’ He ‘keeps us as the apple of the eye.’ ‘Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you.’

III. Or, if all other arguments fail, have not we experienced it?—Have not there been certain prayers which you have offered and which have come back in most singular precision? Have not there been strange interpositions of the Divine Providence in years past on your behalf? Can those years tell no tales of individual love? Has not He sometimes spoken to you so distinctly that it is like a voice, and you have known it? Has not the Word preached sometimes come home to you with an irresistible power—as if it were God, at that moment, dealing with you Himself? When you have gone wrong have you not had some singular checks and things to bring you back from those wanderings? And every moment of your life have not you been fed and guided? Have you not been guarded, delivered, and blessed every hour? Oh, why should any of us doubt that God has a personal affection and ‘care’ for these bodies and these souls?

IV. If, at this moment, that little thin veil which separates the two worlds could be drawn aside, we should see such a look on God’s face that we should never doubt it again. And I believe this, that though there be those on earth that love you, and of whose sympathy you feel quite sure, yet that far more tenderly does Jesus love you; and all that love of father, mother, brother, sister, husband, wife, is nothing compared to the tenderness and devotedness of your heavenly Father’s love. So it is no unreal thing when we read, ‘The Lord careth for you.’

Illustration

‘I fear too little prayerful consideration is felt by the Church in behalf of her Christian men of business. Sustaining responsibilities, burdened with cares, depressed by anxieties well-nigh crushing—earnestly desirous, and that very desire intensifying their feelings that integrity and uprightness should preserve them, that by no faltering, no receding, no departure from the strictest line of Christian consistency should the cause of Christ be dishonoured and their Christian character be compromised—are they sufficiently borne upon our sympathies and prayers? Do we, in measure, make their burdens, their dangers, their anxieties our own? Do we ask for them of God the grace that will keep them in prosperity, and for the strength and comfort that will sustain and soothe them under the pressure and perils of anxious care? Does the Church of God sufficiently sympathise with her Christian merchants?’

(THIRD OUTLINE)

THE BURDEN AND THE BURDEN-BEARER

We are dealing not with what may be called the normal care, which in some form or other must be the lot of every man and woman, without which, indeed, life would be a useless, lotus-eating, existence—care, which is the necessary accompaniment of all work honestly done, whether with the hands or the head, even to our first parents before the Fall; but anxiety, restless, carking care, which saps the mind rather than disciplines it, which comes in some guise to most of us, which we are bidden not to hug, not to crouch under, as trembling captives in the hand of a stronger, but to cast it from us.

I. St. Peter’s direction amounts to a command to throw off from us our anxieties, the cares that distract the mind, and cast them upon God. But some will say, Are we not to bring our normal cares and duties to God, and commit them to Him for His help and His blessing? Surely we are, and at all times, if we are to discharge these duties, be they what they may, in a right spirit, and with hope of true success; but we are here dealing with a precept of a different kind. Our normal cares and duties we must bear, and not seek to evade or cast aside. Duties, however toilsome and wearying, are things to be done, or, at any rate, to be honestly essayed, not things to be mourned over and evaded if possible. But the anxiety, the worry if you will so call it, from whatsoever cause arising, is a thing which St. Peter bids us to cast on God; and the Saviour Himself tells us that we are not to distract ourselves with anxious cares as to the morrow—that morrow will have its own crop of cares when it comes. The tense of the word ‘casting,’ combined with the manner in which ‘all’ is expressed, shows that the precept does not mean simply, ‘As each fresh cause for anxiety arises, cast it from you on God; get rid of each as it arises.’ It is more than that: sum up in one effort all the efforts of your life, and cast in that one effort all life’s anxiety on Him. With life’s efforts thus gathered up into one, with life’s whole anxiety as it were anticipated, no cause can arise which should distract the Christian’s heart. True it is that this is an ideal to which few can rise, but what Christian grace is there to which believers here on earth can do more than struggle towards, and the further they advance in the course the more does the ideal move on before them, nobler, and fairer, and purer, as they struggle on towards it. The greatest of the Apostles hesitated not to speak of himself as ‘chief of sinners’; and tells us that he had not attained, but followed after, pressing on to the mark.

II. The Burden-Bearer.—But there is one point specially to notice in this injunction of the Apostle. We are not merely to cast away from us our cares and anxieties; we are to cast them upon God. It is not a mere stoical fatalism which we are bidden to cultivate, a physical and mental hardness, trained into such a self-reliance that it submits, grimly and silently, when resistance is impossible. If this were all, no nobler type could be found than the North American Indians of a past generation, whose endurance of sufferings without a groan, when they fell into the hands of their foes, seems to go beyond the bounds of human belief. This is stoicism indeed, but what is enjoined upon the Christian is very different from this. The burden of anxiety is not to be got rid of, as when we fling something from us vaguely, not knowing where it will fall, regardless perhaps whether others will be somehow affected by this action of ours. Sometimes a man’s flinging off of his anxieties amounts to their being laid on the backs of others, less strong perhaps to endure than himself. ‘Casting all your care upon God’: it is the last two words which differentiate the precept from the stoical endurance of the heathen, from the selfish indifference of the merely nominal Christian. Cast it upon God: His Infinite Love will receive all the manifold cares and anxieties of our finite humanity; and as we seek to obey the command, He will furnish the remedy that best suits the individual care. The man who brings the anxiety to God, struggling, however feebly, to the steps of the Throne, the steps which reach from earth to heaven, is not actuated by the thought not looking beyond the centre of self—I must get rid of my burden, fall it where it may. He takes it, as he is bidden, to his Father. His obedience therein to that Father’s command is itself a training for a fuller knowledge of that Father, is a help which shall fit him more for that Father’s home.

III. One thought more.—There is, indeed, something inexpressibly soothing in the thought of bringing our anxieties to our Heavenly Father, and leaving them with Him; but, one will ask, May I? Surely, yes. St. Peter does not leave his message half told. God, Who bade the Apostle to pen the injunction, bade him also to add the assurance, the promise, ‘for He careth for you.’ This word care moves on totally different lines from the other; it has to do with attention and regard, which may in its higher form amount to affectionate interest. Great truth of truths, ‘God careth for us.’ It is not merely a hope, a dream, a beautiful ideal fancy. It is a solid fact, unmovable like the solid rock; it is His own definite declaration and promise. In full reliance on Him Whose bounty in His promises and His gifts exceeds our readiness to avail ourselves of them, let us cast the burden of our anxiety before Him, and leave it with Him, that thus having ‘laid aside every weight’ we may serve Him with lightened hearts and minds ‘till this world’s twilight breaks in fullest day.’

Rev. Dr. Sinker.

Illustration

‘Hard it is often to tear the anxiety from our hearts, where else it takes root and spreads like a cancer, and cast it upon God as He Himself has bidden us. Yet in this, as in other Christian duties, some noble examples stand before us. Think of that Valiant-for-Truth, Bishop Nicholas Ridley, who could sleep with the calm slumber of a child on his last night on earth, though he knew that on the morrow the awful death at the stake awaited him. Think of holy Rowland Taylor, one of the first victims of the Marian Reign of Terror, who on his way to his fiery martyrdom could cheerfully tell the sheriff, “I have only two stiles to go over, and I am even at my Father’s house.” Or take one more instance where God’s Providence ended the matter differently. Take the saintly Bernard Gilpin, “the Apostle of the North,” whose comment in every trouble was, “It is all for the best,” and who, when being led up to London for trial before Bonner in the last year of Mary’s reign, happened to fall and break his leg; and to the taunt, “Is this, too, all for the best, Master Gilpin?” could answer, “I doubt it not, since it is God’s will.” Happily before his leg was healed the persecutor died, and Gilpin’s life was saved for future usefulness. Very few of us can rise to such heights as this, but we can set it as an ideal before us to aim at. It is a thing, indeed, to be aimed at and struggled for, and, above all, prayed for.’