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 March 17, 2026
Are you 100% sure about that? Last December, Stephen and I headed for Prague for a few days. We were looking forward to Christmas markets, mulled wine, and shopping. Because we had booked a really early flight, we decided to stay in an airport hotel the night before. We hadn’t banked on one thing though: how to get from the bus station at Heathrow to the hotel. We could see our destination towering ahead of us as we exited the coach, but there was no reliable way to get there on foot. Much like Houston, navigating the surface roads of Heathrow is much easier for those in a car. So, we asked for directions from one of the airport staff. She pointed us over to two elevators, sat right next to each other. One had a line of at least twenty people. The other one had none. Those at the front of the queue hadn’t even pressed the button. That seemed strange and indicated that perhaps the people in line didn’t know what they were doing—or weren’t used to London airports. But why was one line so long and the other non-existent? The signs above weren’t exactly clear, but here were two lifts side-by-side, surely they went to the same place? Towards the back of the line was a middle-aged man, surrounded by luggage and family, who realised what we were trying to puzzle out. “Nah, you can’t use it. The other lift doesn’t go down. Doesn’t go to the same place,” he told us. We looked at him quizzically. “Are you sure?” we asked. “ One hundred percent , mate. One hundred percent.” The certainty with which he declared his answer was persuasive. He crowed like he was the CEO of the airport. That lift would not go where the other one was going. He repeated himself again. 100%. Only, he was wrong. We risked looking like fools. We walked to the vacant elevator, hit the button, and—lo and behold!—an elevator appeared that went to the exact same location as the other. The middle-aged man surrounded by luggage was 100%... in the wrong. Utterly and completely. *** Words, words, words, but no wisdom I don’t personally know the man who so-confidently revealed his wrongness. I’ve no idea whether his bluster was out of character from his usual self. But in the moment of our encounter, he acted every bit the ‘fool’ we find in Book of Proverbs: "A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing personal opinion." (Proverbs 18:2) There is much wisdom in Proverbs 17:28: Even fools who keep silent are considered wise; when they close their lips, they are deemed intelligent. It seems to me that we live in a world saturated with words, whether written or spoken. There’s an ever-growing number of websites, social media platforms, podcasts, and so on. Even more so now with AI. Yet for all this verbal abundance, there does not seem to be any more wisdom than there used to be. I would argue with AI, there seems to be less (or perhaps it’s simply exposing our foolishness). Part of me wonders about the virtue of writing a blog, when these are so often half-thoughts, explorations, and ideas: am I just adding to the plethora of opinions that exist on the blogosphere? Last year, I was teaching on how to plan and lead funerals with our final year ordinands. I spoke with confidence about what works and what doesn’t. What the role of the cleric is, how to work with the grieving family, how to craft the sermon, what to do afterwards etc. It felt good to be able to give real, lived experience having worked in a church for a decade. But it was only during the Q&A when I realized something. I realized my confidence was borne of a very specific context: I ministered in a large, Episcopal church in Houston, Texas. Not a small parish church, somewhere remote in England. Did the wisdom and experience I bring still have value in the Church of England, where the Church is an established one? Where those who minister do among many people who don’t dare to cross the threshold of a religious building except in such moments of life and death? Now I happen to think it does; but only with some qualification. For what I realized in that moment is that it’s not quite as readily transferable as I’d assumed. Church cultures are different. Expectations are different. How people respond and react to their local vicar is different! What works in one scenario doesn’t necessarily work in another. Consider Proverbs 26:4-5: 4 Do not answer fools according to their folly, or you will be a fool yourself. 5 Answer fools according to their folly, or they will be wise in their own eyes. Proverbs 26 has a seeming contradiction that speaks to the importance of context. In the situation where you’re faced with someone spouting foolishness, what should you do? Speak or not speak? Engage or not engage? The modern equivalent to v.4 might be to say to yourself “not my monkeys, not my circus” and walk away. But what about the times when it is your circus? When they are your monkeys? What about when to walk away is to leave someone blind to their mistakes and doomed to make more? What if responding might feasibly help someone see beyond their own blinkers and make a different choice? Sometimes v.4 might be the path of wisdom. Other times it’s v.5. But it’s not always apparent which is which. Overconfidence is not just dangerous for making us look like fools or giving bad advice. If we stay in our certitude, we miss the heart of the issue revealed in these two verses: we need wisdom. So where do we find it? *** Does ‘wisdom come with age’? I’ve heard it said that ‘wisdom comes with age’. Ironically enough, this line was used when I was in something of a disagreement with someone much older than me. But claiming moral high ground or superior understanding on the basis of some unalterable characteristic that you have but I don’t, is more indicative of pride than wisdom. If age does come with wisdom, there would be no conflict or disagreement within the human species as we age. If age is the sole arbiter, we should collectively do better as the wrinkles and grey hairs multiply. Yet that’s not what happens. Wisdom, sadly, is not inevitable. It can come with age because of one very simple reality: the more time you’ve had on the planet means you’ve had more opportunity to become wise. Now whether or not you’ve taken those opportunities is quite a different thing! *** Wisdom: a gift that needs seeking Proverbs has an interestingly balanced view of wisdom. It is (1) something that requires active seeking, yet also (2) something which only God can give. Proverbs 2:1-4 talks about the need to exert effort in acquisition of wisdom. It’s not something that just lands on our laps: it asks you to be open to learning and sitting with what you receive (v.1), deliberate and intentional in putting your body in a space to grow in it (v.2), and vocal in your search for it (v.3). In other words: humble, open, and hungry. This passage concludes by likening it to searching for silver or hidden treasure (v.4). Think about that for a moment: do you search for wisdom in the same way you seek out growth in income or asset? From a human wisdom point of view, seeking financial gain for our security and future as we age (and our children grow and go off to college etc) makes good sense. But what if we were to seek wisdom with the very same fervour? What if wisdom had the same significance for our spiritual security and future? What if it is important to our growth in the Christian life and readiness for what may come our way? It’s a gift that needs seeking. But Proverbs tells us it is also a gift that is given. Verse 6 reveals “ the LORD gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding .” Our seeking is not the whole picture. Longing for wisdom does not mean we get it. Wisdom is God’s domain not ours. Proverbs 8 illustrates that God’s Wisdom is not something to acquire or harvest. It is not a commodity to be doled out. It is not a consumer good. Wisdom was present when God made the world. Wisdom is a part of God’s self that chooses when to be imparted and when not to be (compare 1:28; 8:17; 9:5, 16) The very fabric of our material world is infused with the mystery of Wisdom. Insight and understanding comes from God and helps us to navigate the complexity of our lives, but this gift is just a glimpse of a much greater reality of the divine Wisdom which exists eternally. This, perhaps, brings us back to where I started. True wisdom is never found in loud proclamations of “one hundred percent!”. Why? Because the one who is wise recognises they have a lot to learn. They know that new information can shift and reframe yesterday’s certainty. Maybe the first step is to stop claiming absolute certainty—to stop the all-or-nothing thinking. Maybe we start with recognising what Paul talks about in 1 Corinthians 13: we only see in part, know in part, understand in part. And from there, we begin actively seeking that gift which only God—from His Wisdom—can give. Wisdom has built her house, she has hewn her seven pillars. 2 She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine, she has also set her table. 3 She has sent out her servant-girls, she calls from the highest places in the town, 4 "You that are simple, turn in here!" To those without sense she says, 5 "Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. 6 Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight." Proverbs 9:1-6 ****** Photo © Copyright Derek Harper and licensed for reuse under a cc-by-sa/2.0 Creative Commons Licence.
By Suse McBay February 13, 2026
What do we do on days when God seems entirely absent? Some thoughts about where I see that in my life today and, looking back, recognising how much has changed.

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