One of our congregation gave the address today
The address focused on how believers can replace worry and anxiety with peace through trust in God. Drawing from Jesus’ teaching in Gospel of Matthew, especially Matthew 6, the speaker reminds listeners that worry is a universal human struggle. We all experience “what if” fears about the future, health, money, and life’s uncertainties. Yet Jesus teaches that worry is not the way God intends us to live.
A key idea is that worry reveals where our trust truly lies. If we are focused mainly on earthly security — money, possessions, status, or control — anxiety naturally follows, because all these things can be lost. But if our treasure is in heaven and God is our master, we can live with greater peace, knowing that what truly matters is secure. The sermon emphasizes Jesus’ words that we cannot serve both God and worldly security at the same time.
The speaker uses Jesus’ examples of birds and flowers to show God’s care. Birds do not store food in barns, yet God feeds them. Flowers do not labour over clothing, yet God dresses them beautifully. These images are meant to remind us that if God faithfully provides for His creation, He will also care for us, who are of even greater value. This does not mean we stop working or being responsible, but that we stop living as if everything depends solely on our own efforts.
Another important theme is that much of our worry is misplaced. We often worry about things that will never happen, things we cannot change, or what others think of us. Very little of our anxiety is about real, present problems. Worry also tries to control a future that belongs to God. Instead of rehearsing fears, believers are encouraged to bring their concerns to God in prayer and trust His guidance day by day.
The sermon stresses that Jesus repeats the command “Do not worry” because He knows how easily fear takes hold of our hearts. Worry shrinks our perspective to immediate needs, while faith lifts our eyes to eternal truths. Life is more than food, clothing, or material security. When we seek first God’s kingdom and righteousness, we are promised that our real needs will be provided for.
Finally, the message is deeply pastoral and encouraging. The speaker acknowledges that trusting God is easier said than done, especially during illness, financial pressure, or emotional strain. Yet peace grows as we consciously hand our fears to God, especially in quiet moments of prayer. Instead of trying to carry tomorrow’s burdens today, we are called to trust the God who holds the future.
In short, the sermon teaches that freedom from worry comes not from controlling circumstances, but from trusting God’s care, valuing eternal things over temporary ones, and seeking His kingdom first Here are some other thoughts on worrying, an affliction that bothers most people.
From Brian – I have a tendency to worry more than I care to admit. Looking back, most of the things I’ve been anxious about turned out to be unfounded. Perhaps it stems from a lack of faith, or simply from being overly conscientious about matters beyond my control. Either way, I’d rather this constant undercurrent of concern wasn’t part of my mental background. Listening to the talk at this month’s 3:00 pm service prompted me to reflect more deeply on these patterns, which I’ve explored below.
I’ve been reflecting lately on the nature of worry — that persistent mental background noise so many of us live with — and I’ve come to see it not as a personal failing, but as a deeply human response to uncertainty. We are meaning-making creatures, always trying to anticipate what might happen next, and worry is the mind’s attempt to prepare for futures it cannot control. In small doses it can be useful, nudging us to plan, to save, to check in on our health or relationships. But when it becomes constant, it stops being protective and starts becoming a burden.
What strikes me most is how similar our worries are, even across different countries and cultures. Large international surveys conducted by organisations such as Gallup show that roughly four in ten adults worldwide report having worried “a lot of the previous day”. That is an extraordinary number when you think about it — millions of people lying awake, minds racing, not because something is immediately wrong, but because something might be.
Health consistently comes near the top of the list of what people worry about. In one global study of late-night anxieties, almost half of respondents said their biggest worry was their health or the health of someone close to them. That feels understandable. Our bodies are, in the end, not fully predictable, and modern life constantly reminds us of potential risks, illnesses, and ageing. Even when we are well, we know how quickly that can change. For parents and carers, the worry extends beyond themselves to children, partners and elderly relatives, multiplying the emotional load.
Money is never far behind. Polling in several countries shows majorities of adults worrying about the economy, the cost of living, or their ability to cope with unexpected expenses. In the United States, for example, surveys have found around six in ten people worrying a great deal about the economy, and similar numbers concerned about healthcare costs. It is not just about wealth in an abstract sense but about security — whether we can pay the bills, heat the house, or face an emergency without everything falling apart. Financial worry has a way of seeping into daily life, colouring decisions about work, family and even health.
Safety is another powerful theme. People worry about crime, about violence, and increasingly about environmental threats. Global research has shown sizeable minorities of people saying they are very worried about serious harm from extreme weather, while others name violent crime or social unrest as major concerns. These fears are not only about personal safety, but about the stability of the communities we live in. When the wider world feels fragile, our inner sense of safety often follows suit.
Then there is the future in a broader sense — jobs, technology, and the planet itself. Younger adults, in particular, report high levels of anxiety about employment prospects and economic stability. At the same time, international surveys by groups like the Pew Research Center find that large proportions of people see the global economy, climate change and the spread of diseases as major threats. These are vast, systemic issues, far beyond the control of any one individual, yet they sit heavily on individual minds. It is hard not to worry when the problems we face seem so large and so complex.
All this matters because worry does not just stay in the realm of thoughts. It affects sleep, concentration, relationships and physical health. The World Health Organization has highlighted how common anxiety disorders are worldwide, and while everyday worry is not the same as a clinical condition, the two exist on a spectrum. When worry becomes chronic, it can narrow our lives, making us more cautious, more withdrawn, and less able to enjoy the present.
And yet, I don’t think the answer is to try to eliminate worry entirely. That would be neither realistic nor, perhaps, even desirable. Worry tells us what we care about. We worry about health because life is precious, about money because security matters, about safety because we value our communities, and about the future because we hope for something better. The challenge is not to stop caring but to keep worry in proportion, to notice when our minds are running too far ahead of reality.
On a personal level, that might mean simple practices — talking things through with someone we trust, getting outside for a walk, limiting how much alarming news we consume late at night, or seeking professional help when worry starts to dominate daily life. On a wider level, it reminds me how important social supports are: accessible healthcare, fair economic policies, safe neighbourhoods and honest public conversation about the future. When the foundations of society feel steadier, individual minds often do too.
So perhaps the first step is simply to recognise how universal worry is. If you find yourself awake at three in the morning, mind circling around health, money or the state of the world, you are not alone and you are not irrational. You are human, living in uncertain times, with a mind that is trying — sometimes over-enthusiastically — to protect you. Treating that mind with a little patience and kindness may be one of the most practical responses we have.
My Torquay and Torbay project is morphing into something different from when I started it, which was a book about people’s experiences of the wintertime when the tourists have gone. I have recently come across a council-led organisation where each area is allocated to a particular person who is a community builder. This venture does not only exist in Torquay but also in Exeter and in Plymouth, so I may well write a book which includes all these three places.
