And why are ye careful about clothing? Observe with attention the lilies of the field, how they grow they toil not, neither do they spin;
The Lord does not argue His point; He tells His hearers to look at something. Commentators note how often He does this, and why it carries weight.
We do well to consider what surrounds us. Sometimes the Lord pointed to things outside and argued from the smaller to the greater. Think of the weighty lessons the disciples could learn from the birds of the sky, or from the lilies of the field. These show more than divine power. They show wisdom, kindness, and a care that thinks of them down to the smallest detail — a goodness that runs through everything and stays, even in the face of man's sin and wickedness.
Another writer connects this habit of teaching to who God is:
Surely many of us walk about little discerning what lessons we may learn from nature. How often did the Lord draw instruction from natural objects, and from operations in nature! And well He might, for the God of creation is the God of revelation. There is but one living and true God. Hence His ways in nature may have a voice for us His creatures.
The verse before pointed to birds. This one changes both the picture and the worry it answers.
In verses 26 and 27 the Lord speaks of the birds of the sky. In verses 28-30 He turns to the lilies of the field. Both teach against anxiety: the birds about eating and drinking, the lilies about clothing. These are famously the two areas of ordinary life that test people most — not people in general only, but disciples, and He was speaking to disciples all through His teaching on the mountain.
The lily is the weaker example on purpose.
The birds at least have to do something to find their food; but the lilies do not toil for their clothing! They grow and develop, so to speak, by themselves. The many colours, the beauty and tenderness of the plants display one thing only: the glorious grandeur of our Creator. And this is for our joy as well.
Toiling and spinning were the two labours that produced clothing. The Lord sets them aside as a picture — not as a rule for His disciples' hands.
Sowing or reaping, toiling or spinning may well be a duty. It is a duty if they had to provide for themselves and their household, and could earn their supplies more easily by such work. Even in a world untouched by sin, the LORD put Adam, whom He had formed, into the garden of Eden to work it and keep it. There was no one to hire for the work that needed doing, and Adam could gladly use his own hands.
The same writer adds that work is a mercy, and that Scripture is blunt about refusing it:
For children not yet converted, and for adults in the same state, having work to do is a merciful help. It guards them from the dangers of idleness and of giving way to lust and passion. Work is good for believers too. Refusing to work when you have no means of your own is bad — so much so that the apostle says bluntly: if a man does not want to work, he should not eat.
The comparison carries a sting.
Solomon in all his glory was not dressed like one of these lilies. The closer you look at them, even with the strongest lens, the more they outshine the splendour of Israel's richest king. Yet that rich beauty of shape and colour was only a carpet under the feet of the poorest Israelite one day, and fuel for an oven the next… He uses both facts to judge our nature's anxiety about earthly things… He would banish doubt, distress and unworthy desires, and settle the heart in confidence in His Father's present, perfect and loving care.
Nature is the starting point, not the destination.
He never meant the disciples to take up the birds of the sky or the lilies of the field as objects of their own care, though more than a few misuse what He said… He points out the matchless goodness of God toward what is so small in His eyes. His aim is that the disciples should rise from these things to the Father above them all, and be sure of the thoughtful, constant love He bears to His own.
One writer preaches the gospel from the lily, linking this verse with the Song of Solomon, quoted here in an older wording.
"As the lily among thorns" — the gorgeous lily growing in the thorn thickets of Palestine — "so is my love among the daughters." … We were all thorns once. We can take these words for ourselves and say that His grace has turned us into the lily. The believing soul is dressed in Christ, and has that fragrance and beauty before Him. God is He that does this; it is not the result of their scheming and toil.
- Consider — The lesson begins with an act of attention, not effort. Look at what God grows without help, and let creation speak.
- Clothed — Birds answer anxiety about food; lilies answer anxiety about clothing. The weaker the creature, the stronger the argument for God's care.
- Not idle — "Neither toil nor spin" describes flowers, not disciples. Work remains a duty and a mercy; only the anxiety is forbidden.
- Outshone — God spends beauty greater than Solomon's on grass that will heat an oven tomorrow. His care for what passes is the measure of His care for you.
- Upward — The look ends at the Father, not the flower. Grace even turns thorns into lilies, dressed by God, not by their own scheming.
but I say unto you, that not even Solomon in all his glory was clothed as one of these.
The Lord answers worry about clothes with a wildflower. He sets it beside the richest king Israel ever had. Why does a one-day flower outrank a royal wardrobe? And what should that do to an anxious heart?
He names the one king whose wealth was legendary. One writer shows why, and where the real difference lay:
What amazing wealth there was in Solomon's reign! People have estimated that Solomon's temple held enough gold to more than pay off a nation's entire debt, and silver, we are told, was like stones. The Queen of Sheba fainted at the sight, it so far exceeded her expectations, so we can see why the Lord here selects Solomon. However grand and beautiful his clothing was, it was only artificial. The other was of God.
The One speaking had watched Solomon's coronation from heaven. He preferred the flower:
Our blessed Lord once spoke with appreciation of "the lilies of the field." "Consider them," He said. "Yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these" (Matt. 6:28-29). From His holy heaven He had seen Solomon in his magnificent coronation robes, made by skilful hands. But to His mind the modest lily, the work of God, presented a more attractive picture. May the gracious Spirit of God work in us all the lily character. No "outward adornment" will compare with it (1 Peter 3:3).
A closer look only widens the gap. And the flower that wins has almost no future:
What a rebuke from the plants of the field, as our Lord interprets it! Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these lilies. The closer you inspect them, even with the most powerful instruments, the more they outshine the splendour of Israel's richest king. Yet that lavish beauty of form and colour was only a carpet spread for the feet of the poorest Israelite on one day, and on another was fuel for an oven. And this end of its glory was far from being an offence to the Lord. He was above all jealous for His Father's honour in His work. So He uses this double fact to judge our natural anxiety about earthly things. They may be as lovely to the eye as the lilies, yet they die just as quickly. He uses it to banish doubts, distress, and unworthy desires, and to settle the heart in confidence of His Father's present, perfect, and loving care.
The same writer points the lesson upward — past the small thing God clothes so well, to the Father Himself:
He points out God's incomparable goodness toward what is so little in His eyes. His aim is that the disciples should rise from this to the Father above them all, and be sure of the thoughtful and constant love He bears to His own... Are we to share the anxiety of those who do not know God? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all — how shall He not also with Him freely give us all things?
The birds and the lilies answer two different fears:
"They neither toil nor spin." The ravens might seem to do something; but as to the lilies, what can they do?... The one, then — the ravens — rebuked their care for their food, and the lilies their care for their clothing.
Trusting God for clothes does not mean asking Him for impressive ones:
Of course faith would not ask Him to give us clothing that would draw attention to ourselves, for faith honours Him, not self.
One writer links the lily to the Song of Songs, where it stands among thorns:
Link it with the Song of Songs. Hear what the Bridegroom says of the earthly bride: "As the lily among thorns" — the gorgeous lily growing in the thorn thickets of Palestine — "so is my love among the daughters." We have teaching about the thorn: how it came in, and what its end will be. We were all thorns once. We can take these words for ourselves. His grace has transformed us into the lily, clothed in Christ. The believing soul has that fragrance and beauty before Him. God is the One who does this; it is not the result of their scheming and toil.
(The ESV renders that line "As a lily among brambles.")
- Chosen: The Lord names Solomon because his splendour was the peak of what money could buy. It was still only man-made. The lily was of God.
- Clothed: The lily neither toils nor spins. Its beauty is a gift, not a wage — and the closer you look, the further it outshines the king.
- Contrast: God dresses a flower that carpets the ground one day and heats an oven the next. That is His answer to anxiety.
- Care: The point is not the flower but the Father above it. The God who did not spare His own Son will not withhold lesser things.
- Changed: In the Song of Songs the lily stands among thorns. We were thorns once, and grace made us lilies, clothed in Christ by His work, not our scheming.
But if God so clothe the herbage of the field, which is to-day, and to-morrow is cast into [the] oven, will he not much rather you, O [ye] of little faith?
The Lord has just pointed to the lilies. Now He drives the lesson home with one sharp picture. God dresses roadside grass in beauty, and by tomorrow that grass is fuel. The question is not whether God can provide. It is why His own children still worry.
The picture comes from ordinary village life. An oven there was not a machine but a hole in the ground, and dried plants were the fuel.
In the cities some people worked as bakers and had built-up ovens. Everywhere else, each household usually had its own simple oven. A hole was dug in the ground and coated with clay, which hardened in the heat of the fire. Grass of every kind dried quickly in the sun, and people threw it into the oven to heat it.
So the Lord picks something with no lasting value — and God still made it beautiful.
What a rebuke comes from the plants of the field, as our Lord explains it! Solomon in all his glory was not dressed like one of these lilies. The closer you look at them, even with the most powerful instruments, the more they outshine the splendour of Israel's richest king. Yet all that lavish beauty of shape and colour was only a carpet spread under the feet of the poorest Israelite one day. The next day it was fuel for an oven.
The reasoning runs upward. If God takes care of the lowest and shortest-lived thing He has made, He will not overlook His own people. Note also that each illustration answers a specific worry.
"But if God so clothes the grass, which today is in the field, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will He clothe you, O you of little faith?" Grass is the lowest thing, as it were, that He has made in the plant world — something both common and short-lived. So the ravens rebuked their anxiety about food, and the lilies their anxiety about clothing.
The same Maker stands behind the flower and behind the believer.
God, the creator of all animal and plant life, has fitted them together so admirably and sustains them. He will also provide for His children, who are worth much more than they are, in a fatherly way, with food and clothing. Yet how often we too show little faith in this matter!
The lilies neither toil nor spin. But the point is trust, not laziness.
Sowing or reaping, toiling or spinning could still be a duty. It would be, if they had to provide for themselves and their household, and could earn their supplies more easily by this work than in any other way. Even in an unfallen world, the Lord put Adam, whom He had formed, into the garden of Eden to till it and guard it.
The Lord's closing words are a rebuke, but a gentle one. He names the real problem: not scarce resources, but a small trust. Set against our own helplessness, that weakness stands out.
All your anxiety cannot add a single cubit to your height. And how much else there is of this kind, where we depend entirely on the will of another! We already have to leave so much to Him, and He clothes the perishing lilies of the field with a glory greater than Solomon's. Why not, then, leave everything to Him? The weakness of a person's faith is the only truly sad weakness, after all.
Left unchecked, that small faith pulls a believer down to the outlook of people who have no God at all.
Anxiety, darkness and doubt come from unbelief, joined with loving the world or the things in the world. That is how it was with the Gentiles, who did not know God. If we know Him, and the blessedness of His kingdom, and the perfection of His righteousness, why be anxious about tomorrow?
How much more? Look at what God has already spent on us.
God lavishly gives such beauty to grass, though it lasts such a short time. How much more can we depend on Him to clothe those whom He gave His Son to redeem!
- Grass. God dresses a weed that will heat tomorrow's oven — the lowest, briefest thing He makes.
- Gift. If He spends that much beauty on fuel, His care for children bought by His Son is beyond question.
- Rebuke. "Little faith" is real faith that has shrunk; it is the one weakness worth grieving over.
- Danger. Anxiety about food and clothes drags believers down to the level of people who do not know God.
- Balance. Trusting the Father does not cancel honest work. God gave Adam a garden to work before sin entered.