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The Flowers of the Fields

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“There is perhaps nothing so perfect in all language or literature as...the parable of the lilies of the field.” – G.K. Chesterton

“God cares not only for things that have necessities, as ravens have, but for things that have luxuries, as lilies have. When God does anything, he does it well. He is a grand Housekeeper. When God himself works in the kingdom of his grace, he does it perfectly; he does it gloriously.” – Charles Spurgeon

“‘Consider the lilies of the field’ and ‘be still and know that God is God’ are related invitations. Both invitations encourage us to open our hearts and minds (in the spirit of revelation) so that the divine beauty, majesty, and purpose of God’s creations can bear testimony of their Supreme Creator. Both invitations urge us to feel Heavenly Father’s and our Savior’s spiritual assurances that They love and are close to us. And both invitations call us to let go of things which matter less, or which may ultimately not matter at all.” – Gerrit W. Gong

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    • ABOUT THE ART

      The Flowers of the Fields

      By Lindsay Grandison MacArthur

      And why take ye thought for raiment?

      Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow;

      they toil not, neither do they spin

      Matthew 6:28

      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      Teaching on a Galilean hillside during the Sermon on the Mount, the Savior pointed to what was growing at His listeners’ feet and taught a profound lesson about trusting in God. G.K. Chesterton wrote that “there is perhaps nothing so perfect in all language or literature as the parable of the lilies of the field.” As human beings, we are quick to fret over the future. To respond to the uncertainty of life by trying to look farther ahead. We make plans, weigh possibilities and imagine how we might manage whatever comes. Yet, despite our best efforts, the future remains beyond our reach. In inviting us to “consider the lilies of the field,” Jesus encourages us to let go of those natural tendencies and recognize in the superabundant beauty before us the care of the Divine Creator. And then to let this wonder reshape our understanding of God’s presence in our own lives.

      Notice the verb He uses. Jesus did not say glance or even notice; He said consider. Charles John Ellicott explained that the Lord asks His disciples “not merely to look at with a passing glance, but to study—to learn, as it were, by heart—till they have realized every beauty of structure and form and hue.” What do we learn when we do? First, that He was speaking of wildflowers. The Biblical Greek is κρίνα τοῦ ἀγροῦ (krina tou agrou), which literally means “the wildflowers of the open country.” As Ellicott noted, “the hillsides of Galilee are clothed in spring with the crown imperial, and the golden amaryllis, and crimson tulips, and anemones of all shades from scarlet to white” as well as “buttercups and dandelions and daisies; and all these are probably classed roughly together under the generic name of ‘lilies’.” John Gill observed that Christ did not point to garden flowers, “which receive some advantage from the management and care of the gardener; but to those of the field.” No one planted them, watered them, or may have even noticed them, yet they were dressed better than a king. If the Father gives such care to the grass of the field, how much more does He care for His children? “Your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things” (Matthew 6:32). If He is that lavish with a blossom that fades in a day, “shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?” (Matthew 6:30).

      Second, we learn that trusting in God isn’t about idleness or not doing the work before us, but about “plowing in hope” (1 Cor. 9:10). Charles Spurgeon taught that God would have us live “industriously, prudently, thriftily,” but not “in an anxious worrying, depressed spirit, as if you had no God, no Heavenly Father, no all-sufficient Friend; and as if there were no all-wise providence, and you were left to drift about uncared for and alone.” The lily still sends down roots and turns toward the sun. It simply does not fret about tomorrow. Trusting God is a Christlike attribute because Christ Himself lived it. He who had “not where to lay his head” (Matthew 8:20) relied on His Father completely, all the way to Gethsemane and His prayer that “not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42). When He asks us to consider the lilies, He is inviting us into His own relationship with the Father.

      Gerrit W. Gong taught that “‘Consider the lilies of the field’ and ‘be still and know that God is God’ are related invitations.” Both, he said, “urge us to feel Heavenly Father’s and our Savior’s spiritual assurances that They love and are close to us. And both invitations call us to let go of things which matter less, or which may ultimately not matter at all.” Thomas Merton saw it this way: “The little yellow flowers that nobody notices on the edge of that road are saints looking up into the face of God.” Christ’s invitation to us, when worry rises, is to stop, consider the flowers of the field, and then pray with Spurgeon: “O you God of the lilies and God of the ravens, you will be the God of your people too!”

       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      styled
    ABOUT THE ART

    The Flowers of the Fields

    By Lindsay Grandison MacArthur

    And why take ye thought for raiment?

    Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow;

    they toil not, neither do they spin

    Matthew 6:28

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Teaching on a Galilean hillside during the Sermon on the Mount, the Savior pointed to what was growing at His listeners’ feet and taught a profound lesson about trusting in God. G.K. Chesterton wrote that “there is perhaps nothing so perfect in all language or literature as the parable of the lilies of the field.” As human beings, we are quick to fret over the future. To respond to the uncertainty of life by trying to look farther ahead. We make plans, weigh possibilities and imagine how we might manage whatever comes. Yet, despite our best efforts, the future remains beyond our reach. In inviting us to “consider the lilies of the field,” Jesus encourages us to let go of those natural tendencies and recognize in the superabundant beauty before us the care of the Divine Creator. And then to let this wonder reshape our understanding of God’s presence in our own lives.

    Notice the verb He uses. Jesus did not say glance or even notice; He said consider. Charles John Ellicott explained that the Lord asks His disciples “not merely to look at with a passing glance, but to study—to learn, as it were, by heart—till they have realized every beauty of structure and form and hue.” What do we learn when we do? First, that He was speaking of wildflowers. The Biblical Greek is κρίνα τοῦ ἀγροῦ (krina tou agrou), which literally means “the wildflowers of the open country.” As Ellicott noted, “the hillsides of Galilee are clothed in spring with the crown imperial, and the golden amaryllis, and crimson tulips, and anemones of all shades from scarlet to white” as well as “buttercups and dandelions and daisies; and all these are probably classed roughly together under the generic name of ‘lilies’.” John Gill observed that Christ did not point to garden flowers, “which receive some advantage from the management and care of the gardener; but to those of the field.” No one planted them, watered them, or may have even noticed them, yet they were dressed better than a king. If the Father gives such care to the grass of the field, how much more does He care for His children? “Your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things” (Matthew 6:32). If He is that lavish with a blossom that fades in a day, “shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?” (Matthew 6:30).

    Second, we learn that trusting in God isn’t about idleness or not doing the work before us, but about “plowing in hope” (1 Cor. 9:10). Charles Spurgeon taught that God would have us live “industriously, prudently, thriftily,” but not “in an anxious worrying, depressed spirit, as if you had no God, no Heavenly Father, no all-sufficient Friend; and as if there were no all-wise providence, and you were left to drift about uncared for and alone.” The lily still sends down roots and turns toward the sun. It simply does not fret about tomorrow. Trusting God is a Christlike attribute because Christ Himself lived it. He who had “not where to lay his head” (Matthew 8:20) relied on His Father completely, all the way to Gethsemane and His prayer that “not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42). When He asks us to consider the lilies, He is inviting us into His own relationship with the Father.

    Gerrit W. Gong taught that “‘Consider the lilies of the field’ and ‘be still and know that God is God’ are related invitations.” Both, he said, “urge us to feel Heavenly Father’s and our Savior’s spiritual assurances that They love and are close to us. And both invitations call us to let go of things which matter less, or which may ultimately not matter at all.” Thomas Merton saw it this way: “The little yellow flowers that nobody notices on the edge of that road are saints looking up into the face of God.” Christ’s invitation to us, when worry rises, is to stop, consider the flowers of the field, and then pray with Spurgeon: “O you God of the lilies and God of the ravens, you will be the God of your people too!”

     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    styled

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