What do we mean when we say God "cares"? Some thoughts on 1 Peter 5:7

November 15, 2024

Cast your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7


This is one of my favourite verses in the New Testament, because it’s one that I’ve often read as an after-thought to the one that precedes it: “Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, so that he may exalt you in due time.” As a post-script, I’ve heard it as a hasty reminder that God is nice. And even nice to me. But over time, they've taken on deeper significance.


How?


Well, it started by thinking about what it might mean for God to “care”? The term is used by the disciples when the storm is assaulting their boat and Jesus is asleep in the stern. "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" (Mk. 4:38). Their assumption is that one who cares is one who acts to rescue those who are in danger. If Jesus is asleep when they’re about to drown, then he must not care for them. Similarly, in John 10, the hired hands are those who do not care for the sheep in contrast to the Good Shepherd who does what? He lays down his life for the sheep. His care is not a feeling of goodwill but it acts to save. [[That the role of shepherds is to act to protect and keep the sheep safe is a point I was reminded of this week in an excellent critique of the responses to the ABC's resignation and the abuse and negligence described in the Makin report... but that's a blog post for another day.]]


***


What I find most interesting and relevant to 1 Peter 5:7 is the story we find in Luke 10: Mary and Martha welcoming Jesus into their home. Martha is busy with the work of hospitality. Mary is learning from Jesus and remains sat as his feet, listening, which fuels Martha's complaint. “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” (Lk. 10:40) Does Jesus not care about the unfair divvying up of duties? That Martha has not just the lion's share but is doing it all. If he cares, then he should act and tell Mary to pull herself together and do her part.


How does Jesus reply? “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things, there is need of only one thing…” Martha is worried and distracted. Just like the person described in 1 Peter 5:7, she is anxious. She is pulled in different directions, she has a lot on her plate and she needs help.


***


If we consider the Luke passage carefully and in light of 1 Peter 5:7, we can begin to see some of Martha’s willingness to trust Jesus. She is anxious (though she doesn't quite admit it as such—Jesus has to point that out). What does she do with that her fretting? She goes to the one she is coming to believe cares for her. Yes, she’s a bit demanding and pushy about it, but she knows Jesus is the answer. She knows that if Jesus cares about her, he will act. He will see her, recognise her struggle and do something to change the circumstances she’s in.


However, there’s one thing missing.


For 1 Peter 5:7 doesn’t say that God cares about us so much he’ll help us to manage our anxieties so all the plates we have up stay spinning. It doesn’t say we get to pretend we’re not anxious, that our life would actually be manageable if God would just provide the crutch or material solution to keep us going in our denial.


1 Peter 5:7 says we are to cast our anxieties on Him. Turn them over to Him. For Martha, that might have looked like putting down the pots and pans, cease chopping vegetables (or whatever it was she was doing) and give that burden of hospitality over to Jesus. The desire to welcome. The frustration that her sister was ignoring her responsibilities and taking the posture of a disciple. What if Martha had admitted it by physically putting down the weight of her frustration and angst and trusting them to Jesus? Trusting that maybe the world won’t come crashing down around her if she does. That somehow, in the letting go, things will find a solution.


***


To be honest, I’ve had one or two things happen recently where I’ve been forcibly reminded that God’s care is real. It's been a little painful. It only came through action I had to take, but that action only came because I hit something of a brick wall in my own efforts: I learned the lesson the hard way.


Yet whether learned the easy way or the hard way, I've been reminded that our anxieties can't be counseled into submission. No willpower will fix it. Instead, the solution is found through stepping out (or in reality, stepping back) and doing concrete thing that turns it all over to God. Things like saying no, admitting vulnerability, not demanding of others but actively resetting what my expectations are of myself. Saying things differently. Doing things differently. Making changes. Learning to embrace my humanity rather than fight it. It's been in doing these kinds of things that I have discovered once again that the world does not need me to live at maximum capacity for it to keep spinning. I don't need a caffeine-fuelled life (though I am still drinking an occasional coffee). It's in the letting go that I allow myself to be cared for by God. That I discover things will be just fine without me. And perhaps [edit: by which I mean definitely] the world will be better off as a result.


*****

By Suse McBay July 28, 2026
Let me start by asking a question: if someone came up to you and asked what's the benefit or blessing of being a Christian, what would you include in your answer? There's the things we might know to say from Sunday School: Jesus loves me, died for me, so I can be forgiven and free. Or something like that. Would it naturally come to your lips to say this: The gift of my faith is that no matter how hard life gets, no matter the sorrow or suffering that comes my way, I am reassured and strengthened by the confidence that God does not ignore the unjust lives or deaths of those who stick close to Him? *** This summer I’m taking some time to look at Daniel 11-12 and Book 4 of the Jewish poetic writings I research, the Sibylline Oracles . This post is an observation and an out-loud thought from some of my reading. Again and again, both in Daniel, the Sibyllines, an array of other Jewish literature, and the gospels (as well as elsewhere in the NT—e.g. Mark 8:38-9:1, 10:29-31, John 11:25, 1 Cor 15:16-19, 2 Corinthians 4), resurrection and the post-mortem life appears as an encouragement and response to the problem of human suffering. Not a rationale or justification. It’s not an answer to the question of ‘why does God allow suffering’ in any overt sense. But an end to the story of God’s peoples that shapes how the present might be lived. When I was very young, I thought resurrection was more-or-less a get of jail free card for the crucifixion. Jesus died on a cross to deal with sin and death. But if he isn't raised it's all pointless: so God has to raise him. Resurrection as an after thought, if you will. But resurrection isn't an epilogue. It's the victory. Without it the whole story is pointless. It's a real, substantial, material hope. *** Life is hard work. Life does not always go our way. Even when it does, that way isn't usually what we really wanted anyway! There's the normal hard stuff of life: work, family, friendships, health and so on. Then there's the hard stuff of following God. We are given so much goodness in the gospel: a relationship with God for starters! But also forgiveness, healing, reconciled relationships, a change and liberation of priorities, freedom and new life. All such wonderful and good things. Yet they are all a foretaste. Reconciliation doesn't always happen. We might have an interior freedom but experience hardship after hardship externally. I've been reading the diaries of Etty Hillesum who expereinced just that. She was a young Jewish woman in the 1940s. She experienced such a bliss and joy because of her faith and spirituality that found contentment even in life in a concentration camp. Yet her life ended at the tender age of 29. So much life left to live, so much potential unrealised. *** Resurrection is a reminder and encouragement that our real hope and the true fulfilment of the gospel isn't in the here and now (it begins now, but as a foretaste of what's to come). We aren't to expect ' everything will go my way ' in this life or that I should experience the perennial blessing of God in my earthly life and relationships. Following God will not be easy. The things He calls us to do may not succeed. The people we love may not love us back. The person we pray for may never come to faith. The change we want to see manifest in the world around us may not happen in this life. But resurrection says this: God has not forgotten. God sees it all. God will set right. Unjust deaths will be dealt with. Unfair hardship will be set straight. This life is not all there is. There is so much more to come, that all of this--even the heart-breaking stuff—will pale in significance in comparison. Yes, that doesn't stop it hurting in the present moment. It doesn't stop grief or stem the tide of darkness today. But it allows us to let go. Surrender. Trust. None of this has to be fixed now. We do what we can. But the outcome of it all is not one realised in this life, but the next. So take courage. There is more to come. ******
By Suse McBay June 24, 2026
Peter Murrell, a Scottish political worker and now ex-husband of Nicola Sturgeon (former SNP party leader), was this week sentenced to 5 years in prison for embezzlement. Over the years he had used party money to buy all manner of things. It began with a Play Station 3 but escalated, to buying silver wine coaster, a Jaguar, and a motor home (the list goes on and on). Now embezzlement is not new. Nor is using political office for personal gain. But what struck me were the comments from the lawyer following the sentencing: “ The accused is now an individual overwhelmed by feelings of embarrassment and shame .” Shame. We don’t know if it’s true or not, but I wonder how you respond to hearing such contrition? Responses can range from the judgemental (“ Good! He deserves it ”) to the overly sympathetic (“ Perhaps he’s learned his lesson ”). But regardless of where we individually fall on the sympathy scale, it was an interesting example of what I’ve been thinking about recently: healthy shame . Mr Murrell has undeniably done something wrong and has betrayed the office given to him. He’s estranged from his wife. He’s headed to prison. He was there to represent the people, but instead, he has preyed on the sheep (Ezek. 34:2 has things to say about this). That uncomfortable feeling of recognising where we have transgressed our limits and have become hoodwinked by our own hubris and entitlement. His inadequacies have been publicly exposed. His dirty laundry is out in public. We may be more accustomed to scandal given the internet age, so we may be desensitised to it, but I bet Peter Murrell is not. When it happens to you, it’s painful. It’s uncomfortable. It’s exposing. I’m no psychologist, so I’d recommend John Bradshaw’s book on Healing the Shame That Binds You , if you want to think more about it. Dan Allender and Tremper Longman have a good Christian reflection on different emotions in Cry of the Soul. But I’ve been noticing where healthy shame appears in Scripture. Shame crops up again and again and again. I’m still in the early stages of thinking about where it appears and why, but one clear example of where it occurs is in scenes of divine judgement, both those in the present and those yet to come. God’s People Exposed (1) Daniel 12:1-4 talks about how Jewish believers in the 2 nd century BCE would be raised. The wise and understanding ones who didn’t comply with the political schemes of Antiochus IV would be raised to shine like stars. The others? Those who had aligned themselves with the emperor and in the process forsaken their covenant loyalty to God? They would be faced with everlasting shame (and contempt). (2) Jeremiah 2 has strong words for God’s people of Israel who have got so wrapped up in themselves they have stopped seeking where God is at work and instead are playing with other idols under the illusion of thinking they’re faithful because they keep the Law. They even say they don’t run after false gods (v.23). They’ve tried to seek out gain from the political powers (v.18) rather than humbly submit themselves to God (v.20). The result? They will be put to shame by Egypt (v.36). In an eerily similar statement to the news from Scotland: “As a thief is shamed when caught, So the house of Israel shall be shamed: They, their kings, their officials, Their priests, and their prophets.” (Jer 2:26) And the same is true in the New Testament. Mark 8:38 says this: "Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels." I suspect these are words for people who don’t listen to Jesus’ words in the preceding lines: the message that to follow Jesus is to take up your cross, deny yourself. Surrender your own wants and desires. Those who, like Peter, wanted to avoid death. Avoid suffering. Avoid hardship. Those who wanted a Messiah that came on a horse not a donkey. One who wore a crown of gold, not one of thorns. ** So what a bout us? How do we avoid that fate? Well, like a bill that if you don’t pay now you’ll be paying a lot more later, we need to start facing our inner shame today. Both the healthy shame and the shame we’ve been given that doesn’t belong to us. We might take some time to pray, be still, listen. See what comes up when we think about our uncomfortable feelings that usually stay in the shadows. The great gift of shame is that it shows us our limits. Where we’ve crossed the line and harmed ourselves, others, and our relationship with God. Where we’ve tried to be more than human (or acted in fear that we’re less than human). But shame also dies on exposure. Though I’d also add that shame dies on exposure in the presence of a loving other. We find a person or a group where we can start doing the crazy thing and actually revealing our shameful selves to others. Peter Murrell is full of shame, his lawyer says. The question is: what will he do with it? Will he use this public humiliation to face himself as he is? Does he have people around him to listen to him and to help him through it? I hope so. Genuinely. I hope that for all of us. That we would have the courage to allow the One who is Light to bring light into the midst of our shame today. To bring us out of hiding. Shame is a horrible feeling: I’m not a fan. But I do know that on the other side is acceptance, serenity, and a joy that really does make it worth it. It is true freedom—and it’s only in that freedom I can become who God has made me to be. Because whatever I’ve done, however humiliating, the deepest truth of all is that I’m made in the image of God. I am loved. ****** Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

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