A reporter once asked John D. Rockefeller—arguably the wealthiest person in history—a question:
“How much is enough?”
“Just a little bit more,” the tycoon answered.
That’s the American way, isn’t it? Get more.
More of what? Well, there’s an appetite for everyone: more stuff, more influence, more freedom.
Behind the endless ads and alerts we see every day is the underlying message that life will be better if we have or do more. Stoking the flame of discontent can be quite profitable.
Then there’s the added pressure of figuring out for ourselves a perfect blend of the type of more we need.
This endless consumption is exhausting.
The people in Jesus’ day weren’t immune to wanting more. Their culture was different from ours in many ways, and people had much less than we Americans, but the underlying fear of scarcity was just as real. That’s partly why these words from Jesus are so shocking:
“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?” (Matthew 6:25-27, NIV)
Jesus isn’t dismissing our real needs. He knows we need food, water, and clothing.
What he seems to be offering is a different way of looking at the world. A way out of the anxiety that comes from believing we're alone in the fight to meet our own needs. Be like the birds, he says. I give them more than enough.
Maybe below the surface of How much is enough? is another question: Are we on our own?
Rockefeller's answer assumes everything depends on us—our effort, our ability, our control. Easy for the world’s richest man to say.
Perhaps Jesus is hinting at something entirely different: the idea that we are seen, valued, and cared for by someone who knows exactly what we need. There is more to life than more.