To Worry or Not to Worry: Jesus' Teaching in Context
I love therapy.
In fact, if you’ve ever had a conversation with me in real life, there’s a good chance I’ve encouraged you to go. During the last small group I facilitated, we literally passed around the contact info of our favorite therapists. Like business cards at a networking event. Only for healing.
I didn’t grow up in a culture that valued mental health, though. I grew up in the 80s and 90s in a highly legalistic, borderline fundamentalist church where therapy wasn’t discussed in a positive light—if it was discussed at all.
What was talked about was how Jesus said not to worry. That anxiety was a sin. That if you were anxious, you simply didn’t trust God enough.
Yep. You read that correctly.
This kind of spiritual messaging doesn’t exactly lead to emotional wholeness. It doesn't create space for vulnerability or healing. Instead, it breeds people-pleasing, perfectionism, peace-keeping, self-denial, codependency, and a complete disconnect from who you actually are.
So yes, I love (and very much needed) therapy.
🌀 When Theology and Anxiety Collide
Even now—after years of growth, insight, and a well-worn therapist’s couch—I still fall into some of those old patterns. Certain triggers can send me straight back down the rabbit hole of anxiety. And the worst part? I know it’s happening while it’s happening.
Here’s how it goes for me:
I see someone struggling.
I think I can fix it.
I feel like I have to fix it.
I spend all this mental energy worrying about someone else’s issue that has nothing to do with me.
And then—I feel guilty for worrying.
Or:
Someone disregards my boundaries.
I pretend like it doesn’t bother me.
I start obsessing over what I did wrong.
I worry over their behavior.
And again—I feel guilty for feeling anxious.
It’s a cycle. A familiar one. And thanks to therapy and some solid inner work, I don’t stay stuck there as long these days. But the temptation? Still real.
Much of that anxiety, for me, was baked into theology that told me feeling worried = not trusting God.
✝️ So What Did Jesus Actually Say About Worry?
You’ve probably heard the verses:
“Don’t worry about your life—what you’ll eat, drink, or wear. God knows you need these things. Seek His kingdom first, and the rest will be provided.” — Matthew 6:25–34
Or the version from Luke:
“Never let anxiety enter your hearts… Isn’t your life more precious to God than a bird? Be carefree in the care of God!” — Luke 12:22–26 (TPT)
Most of the time when these passages are taught, we hear them as spiritual slogans: “Jesus said don’t worry. So stop.”
But that interpretation skips over so much nuance, context, and heart. And it ends up leaving people—especially those with real emotional or mental health struggles—feeling ashamed instead of seen.
🧠 The Greek Word You Didn’t Know You Needed
Let’s pause on that word worry. In Greek, it’s merimnao, and it means to be pulled apart or drawn in different directions.
So Jesus isn’t saying, “Don’t feel anxious ever.” He’s saying, “Don’t let your heart get pulled in opposite directions—split between trust in God and the pressure to secure everything yourself.”
That’s a whole different message, right?
📖 Context Is Everything
Here’s something we often overlook: Jesus’ teaching about worry comes immediately after a conversation about greed. In Luke 12:13–21, someone in the crowd asks Jesus to settle a dispute about an inheritance. Jesus responds with a warning about greed and tells the story of the rich fool—someone who stored up wealth for himself, trusting in his possessions instead of God.
Then, without skipping a beat, Jesus turns to his disciples and says:
“Never let anxiety enter your hearts… Never worry about what you’ll eat or wear.”
It’s not a random transition. It’s a continuation of the same conversation. The topic just shifts from grasping for more to fearing we won’t have enough. But the root is the same: control.
Greed says: “I need more to be safe.”
Worry says: “What if I don’t have enough to be safe?”
Both are about scarcity. Both expose a fear that God might not come through. And Jesus is addressing both.
Photo by Sage Friedman on Unsplash
👣 A Trust That’s Lived, Not Just Learned
Later in Luke 9 and 10, Jesus sends his disciples out to minister and tells them to take nothing with them—no money, no extra clothes, no backup plans. It was more than minimal packing. It was an invitation to depend on God’s provision in real time.
And they didn’t starve.
In fact, just before his crucifixion, Jesus reminds them of that experience:
“When I sent you without purse, bag or sandals, did you lack anything?”
“Nothing,” they answered. — Luke 22:35
Jesus didn’t just teach trust. He trained them in it.
🕊️ Jesus Isn’t Dismissing Your Anxiety—He’s Speaking Into It
When we read these passages through the lens of control, fear, and provision, Jesus' tone shifts from commanding to inviting.
He’s not wagging his finger and saying, “Stop it.”
He’s saying, “You are deeply seen. You are infinitely valuable. You don’t have to hold it all together. You’re held.”
This is not a call to spiritual denial.
It’s a call to deeper trust.
🧭 Reflection Questions
If you want to process this more deeply, here are a few questions to sit with:
Where in your life are you feeling pulled in two directions—between trust and fear?
What would it look like to “travel light” in that area, emotionally or spiritually?
Can you name a time when God provided in a way you didn’t expect?
What would it mean for you to be “carefree in the care of God” today?
Photo by Artem Kovalev on Unsplash
✅ Your Next Step
If you’ve ever been told that anxiety means you’re failing spiritually, I want you to know: that’s not the message Jesus was giving. He sees your fear. He understands your need. And He’s not condemning you—He’s inviting you into trust.
👉 What’s one small thing you can let go of today?
Maybe it’s a fear. Maybe it’s a need for control. Maybe it’s the guilt you’ve been carrying for feeling anxious in the first place.
Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.
You were never meant to.
