TAKE A MOMENT to picture yourself listening to a sermon. Where are you? What are your surroundings like? Perhaps you see yourself doing what you do every Sunday, entering the sanctuary of a local congregation to join in worship with others. Maybe you remember the different churches where you’ve been a member over the years, the different sanctuaries. Or maybe you picture yourself at home, perhaps in your living room, watching a sermon online.

Whatever mental image you have of listening to a sermon, though, I’m guessing it’s not of you sitting outside with a massive crowd, listening to a preacher who’s sitting on a grassy hillside.

MOST PREACHERS DRAW sermon illustrations from real life, so that those listening can connect divine truth to their lived experience. As a teacher and preacher, Jesus did the same, sometimes making use of whatever was at hand.

Instead of isolating the words of the Sermon on the Mount from the gospel narrative, then, try to imagine the setting that Matthew gives us. Jesus is sitting somewhere on a Galilean hillside, with crowds of people sitting nearby where they can see and hear him. Imagine birds flying overhead, or perhaps singing their songs from a nearby tree. Imagine wildflowers dotting the landscape, still in full bloom before being wilted by the heat of the afternoon sun.

Can you picture it? Then listen to what Jesus says next in the sermon:

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? (Matt 6:25-30, NIV)

“Look at the birds,” Jesus said, and the crowd followed his gaze as he looked up into the sky at the birds fluttering overhead. “See how the flowers of the field grow,” he said, gesturing to the blooms carpeting the hillside. He drew the people’s attention to what was already there all around them, trying to get them to see the world through different eyes.

Moreover, can we imagine that Jesus wasn’t just casting about randomly for a convenient sermon illustration? He wasn’t just trying to get the people to see the world differently; he was trying to get them to see the world as he did. Jesus, apparently, saw signs of providence — of God’s gracious provision — everywhere. I think here of the classic hymn, “This is My Father’s World.” Here’s the second verse, which may not be familiar to you even if you recognize the song:

This is my Father’s world:
The birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white,
Declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world:
He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass,
He speaks to me everywhere.

As the psalmists might say, creation itself preaches a sermon for those with the eyes to see and the ears to hear:

The heavens declare the glory of God;
    the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
    night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
    no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
    their words to the ends of the world. (Ps 19:1-4)

Or consider Psalm 104, a testament to God’s sovereignty over and care for all of creation: sun and moon, mountains and valleys, grass and trees, and every kind of living creature — including humans. The psalmist praises God as the one who provides:

All creatures look to you
    to give them their food at the proper time.
When you give it to them,
    they gather it up;
when you open your hand,
    they are satisfied with good things. (Ps 104:27-28)

Picture this. If you were anxious, would it make a difference to you to be out in nature somewhere? Perhaps sitting by a still lake, or under a tree in a park? Somewhere with a view of majestic snow-capped mountains? How do you feel when you see a brilliant sunrise, or a carpet of wildflowers?

It’s not just your imagination. Decades of research confirms the benefits of being in natural surroundings to our physical and mental health. One classic study demonstrated that people confined to a hospital bed improved faster if they could see a natural setting through a window — a park full of trees, for example, as opposed to a brick wall. Another study found that people who stood surrounded by tall redwood trees tended to feel a sense of transcendence and awe — and because of it, were more likely to behave with spontaneous kindness toward someone who needed their help picking up something they had dropped (on purpose of course).

Researchers, of course, propose psychological explanations for these effects, and their theories are interesting. But there may be a theological explanation as well: with the psalmists, we affirm that creation points us back to its Creator. Even the apostle Paul says as much: to look at creation is to be confronted with the existence and nature of God, even if one then chooses to deny that witness (Rom 1:20).

Thus, as we will see, when Jesus speaks to our anxieties, he encourages us to rest in God’s providence, the truth of God’s care as it’s declared so beautifully every day by the birds, the flowers. Can we learn to see the world as Jesus did? It’s not just as a cure for our worries, but an orientation to life. Jesus saw all of creation as his Father’s world.

And just as he taught us to pray, we can see all of creation as our Father’s world, too.