"Do not be afraid," the Lord said to Abram…

"Do not be afraid," Jesus said to his disciples…

In almost every book in the Bible, in a variety of circumstances, God tries to dissuade fear:

"Be not afraid."

In the midst of mystery or danger, those words, coming through the pages of Scripture, break through the rising panic taking up residence in our throats, quiet the confusion which seems to swirl about us, and we have our own reassuring visit from an angel or hear the caressing, consoling timber of Jesus’ voice: "Do not be afraid."

I am with you; have faith; peace, calm yourself.

These words tell us something about God: that God cares for us, God is "on our side" as it were. They reinforce God’s sense of solidarity with humankind.

But they tell us something about ourselves as well.

Hear the words again: "Be not afraid."

Consoling yes, but more: an admonition, perhaps.

God knows our human condition only too well.

God knows the role fear can play in our lives, the subtle ways fear can insert itself into who we are, how easily we lose our equilibrium, and fall into the abyss it creates.

Examples abound, in literature and in our own lives.

A personal example: My youngest daughter, Erin, was 12 years old when the Whittier earthquake occurred, an early morning jolt which knocked our house off its foundations, causing considerable damage. For several nights thereafter, she was anxious, having a hard time sleeping, expecting that as soon as she closed her eyes she would be shaken out of sleep, the house falling down around her.

And then, a few days later, she was fine. I asked what had happened to bring about the sudden change. She responded: "I decided it was too painful to be afraid, and it lasted longer. If something happens to be afraid of, I’ll be afraid then. In the meantime, I’m wasting a lot of time and ruining what could be good time with anxiety."

(I asked her recently if she were still able to live according to that philosophy. "Oh, Mom!" she replied. "I could use some of that wisdom now! I worry about too much!" I think she’s fallen into that "adult trap" of both the awareness of the "bumps" life holds, the inevitable crises, and a feeling that somehow we’re "in it alone," that we have to take care of things, it all falls on our shoulders, that somehow we can do, or prevent – coupled with an underlying sense of our own impotence. We are so wrapped up in what we have to do that if we forget that indeed we needn’t be afraid, because God is with us!)

Another literary example that comes to mind:

Does that resonate with anyone besides me?

God cautions us against fear because God knows the damage fear can do to us, individually and collectively.

Consider the basis of prejudice:

Fear. Fear of other. Fear of difference.

Consider the basis of greed, acquisitive behavior:

Fear. Fear of not having enough; fear of being found wanting; fear of what others might think.

Consider the basis of war, violence, stockpiling weapons:

Fear. Fear of being attacked, killed, overcome.

So many of our attitudes and behaviors can be traced back to fear:

So much of what we do – or don’t do! - and so many of the ways in which we organize our lives, are fear-based.

And God knows what happens when fear takes over, when fear becomes the organizing principle of our lives.

James Thurber describes this kind of living as the result of a "panicky attempt to yell down the demons of life and fear instead of fighting them with angels."

Like so many of Jesus’ teachings, "Do not be afraid," reflects his sense of the collaborative nature of the Kingdom of God.

Yes, in the words of the hymn (reflective of the OT narrative), God can make the sun stand still, but that’s not how God works in our lives.

The Kingdom of God is not a static community – presto-change-o, our world is now God’s kingdom – but is a process.

It is a process we live into by learning to live differently.

It is a process of following Jesus and trusting his way of doing things.

Often we equivocate:

How can I love someone who doesn’t love me back?

I don’t think love would work in this instance…

And our fear causes us to react in ways that are counter to God’s Kingdom.

Fear elbows out Love at the core of our being.

The Kingdom of God can only come if we ourselves become radically different, if we risk not only loving Jesus, but loving one another.

Do not be afraid, we are told, over and over again.

I will be with you, yes.

I will comfort you and hold you, yes.

But I need you to help bring about a better world.

I need you to react, not out of fear, but out of trust, out of love.

God works in our lives, not outside of us, but through and with us.

The Kingdom of God comes about through our mutual efforts, through love, as modeled by Jesus.

One of the difficulties, I think, is that we often mistake the reassurance of God’s care and presence for "safety" or "skate in the park" – piece of cake living!

We have an expectation that "do not be afraid," means "life will be problem-free!"

And yet, nowhere in any of the "Be not afraid" passages that I read is there a guarantee of safety.

God promises Presence, not safety.

The Hebrew people did not find themselves whisked neatly out of Egypt and dropped into the Promised Land, and there were no featherbeds in the wilderness.

Mary still bore the shame of unwed motherhood, the pain of childbirth, the piercing sorrow of her child’s death.

No, we are not promised "finished" or "perfect" or "smooth sailing."

But we are promised that we need not be afraid, for God is with us.

This morning – and every morning – we are invited on a journey of transformation, a journey of relationship with the One who loves us.

God calls us to go where we have never gone before.

God calls us to do what we have never done before.

Do not be afraid, he cautions us.

Do not be afraid, he reassures us.

Can we risk setting aside our fears, and following?

Amen.

"Do not be afraid," the Lord said to Abram…

"Do not be afraid," Jesus said to his disciples…

In almost every book in the Bible, in a variety of circumstances, God tries to dissuade fear:

"Be not afraid."

In the midst of mystery or danger, those words, coming through the pages of Scripture, break through the rising panic taking up residence in our throats, quiet the confusion which seems to swirl about us, and we have our own reassuring visit from an angel or hear the caressing, consoling timber of Jesus’ voice: "Do not be afraid."

I am with you; have faith; peace, calm yourself.

These words tell us something about God: that God cares for us, God is "on our side" as it were. They reinforce God’s sense of solidarity with humankind.

But they tell us something about ourselves as well.

Hear the words again: "Be not afraid."

Consoling yes, but more: an admonition, perhaps.

God knows our human condition only too well.

God knows the role fear can play in our lives, the subtle ways fear can insert itself into who we are, how easily we lose our equilibrium, and fall into the abyss it creates.

Examples abound, in literature and in our own lives.

A personal example: My youngest daughter, Erin, was 12 years old when the Whittier earthquake occurred, an early morning jolt which knocked our house off its foundations, causing considerable damage. For several nights thereafter, she was anxious, having a hard time sleeping, expecting that as soon as she closed her eyes she would be shaken out of sleep, the house falling down around her.

And then, a few days later, she was fine. I asked what had happened to bring about the sudden change. She responded: "I decided it was too painful to be afraid, and it lasted longer. If something happens to be afraid of, I’ll be afraid then. In the meantime, I’m wasting a lot of time and ruining what could be good time with anxiety."

(I asked her recently if she were still able to live according to that philosophy. "Oh, Mom!" she replied. "I could use some of that wisdom now! I worry about too much!" I think she’s fallen into that "adult trap" of both the awareness of the "bumps" life holds, the inevitable crises, and a feeling that somehow we’re "in it alone," that we have to take care of things, it all falls on our shoulders, that somehow we can do, or prevent – coupled with an underlying sense of our own impotence. We are so wrapped up in what we have to do that if we forget that indeed we needn’t be afraid, because God is with us!)

Another literary example that comes to mind:

Does that resonate with anyone besides me?

God cautions us against fear because God knows the damage fear can do to us, individually and collectively.

Consider the basis of prejudice:

Fear. Fear of other. Fear of difference.

Consider the basis of greed, acquisitive behavior:

Fear. Fear of not having enough; fear of being found wanting; fear of what others might think.

Consider the basis of war, violence, stockpiling weapons:

Fear. Fear of being attacked, killed, overcome.

So many of our attitudes and behaviors can be traced back to fear:

So much of what we do – or don’t do! - and so many of the ways in which we organize our lives, are fear-based.

And God knows what happens when fear takes over, when fear becomes the organizing principle of our lives.

James Thurber describes this kind of living as the result of a "panicky attempt to yell down the demons of life and fear instead of fighting them with angels."

Like so many of Jesus’ teachings, "Do not be afraid," reflects his sense of the collaborative nature of the Kingdom of God.

Yes, in the words of the hymn (reflective of the OT narrative), God can make the sun stand still, but that’s not how God works in our lives.

The Kingdom of God is not a static community – presto-change-o, our world is now God’s kingdom – but is a process.

It is a process we live into by learning to live differently.

It is a process of following Jesus and trusting his way of doing things.

Often we equivocate:

How can I love someone who doesn’t love me back?

I don’t think love would work in this instance…

And our fear causes us to react in ways that are counter to God’s Kingdom.

Fear elbows out Love at the core of our being.

The Kingdom of God can only come if we ourselves become radically different, if we risk not only loving Jesus, but loving one another.

Do not be afraid, we are told, over and over again.

I will be with you, yes.

I will comfort you and hold you, yes.

But I need you to help bring about a better world.

I need you to react, not out of fear, but out of trust, out of love.

God works in our lives, not outside of us, but through and with us.

The Kingdom of God comes about through our mutual efforts, through love, as modeled by Jesus.

One of the difficulties, I think, is that we often mistake the reassurance of God’s care and presence for "safety" or "skate in the park" – piece of cake living!

We have an expectation that "do not be afraid," means "life will be problem-free!"

And yet, nowhere in any of the "Be not afraid" passages that I read is there a guarantee of safety.

God promises Presence, not safety.

The Hebrew people did not find themselves whisked neatly out of Egypt and dropped into the Promised Land, and there were no featherbeds in the wilderness.

Mary still bore the shame of unwed motherhood, the pain of childbirth, the piercing sorrow of her child’s death.

No, we are not promised "finished" or "perfect" or "smooth sailing."

But we are promised that we need not be afraid, for God is with us.

This morning – and every morning – we are invited on a journey of transformation, a journey of relationship with the One who loves us.

God calls us to go where we have never gone before.

God calls us to do what we have never done before.

Do not be afraid, he cautions us.

Do not be afraid, he reassures us.

Can we risk setting aside our fears, and following?

Amen.