Restoration is Near: Be Not Afraid
Scripture Reading: Matthew 1:18-25, Isaiah 7:10-16
What are you afraid of?
Our fears are personal and specific to our experience and circumstances, but there are probably a fair number that we share in common with others. Fear of heights, fear of spiders, fear of public speaking. Fear of the dark, fear of monsters – whether under the bed or otherwise. I had a childhood fear of dogs that made going to certain friends’ houses a perilous and scary experience. Perhaps we’re afraid of getting old, of changing capacity. Afraid for what we may lose, afraid of living alone or afraid of dying. Afraid of having to watch as loved ones die. Maybe we’re afraid for our children as we let them go into a world of dangers. Or afraid for the state of this world as we pass it on to them. Perhaps we live with fears of disaster or collapse, fears of climate catastrophe. Or fear that the life we have known is changing and we’ll never get it back.
If I’m honest though, the fears that grab me most commonly are not so profound. In fear, as in so many other things, the urgent tends to trump the important. I’m afraid I will forget to do something I’m supposed to do tomorrow. I’m afraid of looking foolish when I do something I’m not totally comfortable with. I’m afraid of a difficult conversation that needs to happen. I’m afraid that I haven’t been saving enough. I’m afraid of going to the dentist and confessing that no – I really have not been flossing regularly. I am definitely afraid of dental work, though sadly this fear seems not yet strong enough to actually change my habits.
Fear is a normal part of our experience. And sometimes it can be a pretty valuable asset, too. Fear often keeps us from doing dumb things. It holds us back from taking unnecessary risks. It prompts us to be careful. To plan ahead. A little bit of fear makes us think twice and double-check that we’re doing the right thing. As a parent who remembers the toddler years I know how dangerous a lack of fear can be. Chasing after a kid whose legs are controlled by an under-developed temporal lobe is a fulltime job. Healthy fear keeps us safe.
But we know that fear can also be paralysing and debilitating. It can keep us from experiencing the joy and wonder that the world has to offer. Fear can keep us from life-giving relationships, from significant accomplishments, from using our gifts and pursuing our callings. Fear can fester inside us until it emerges in ugly ways that hurt ourselves and others. We also need to live with trust and generosity, acting not out of fear but out of love and compassion and faithfulness to God’s presence in our lives. Fear not.
This encouragement to “be not afraid” comes to us today through Joseph’s encounter with an angel as we read in the first chapter of Matthew’s gospel. “Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.” And it’s part of a long biblical tradition of reminders to fear not. By the best count I found, this phrase – do not be afraid – is repeated 365 times in the Bible. Once for every day of the year, as it happens. This seems important.
At the very least, it affirms that there is a lot of fear out there. We find ourselves scared a lot, and probably always have. The world is a dangerous place, and life is full of experiences that strike terror in deep places. Every day we need to be tossed another lifeline. 365 reminders that we do not have to live in fear.
And why shouldn’t we be afraid? Well, I don’t think it’s because there’s nothing to fear. That just wouldn’t take seriously the reality of our lived experience. We find ourselves scared for a whole bunch of good reasons. But it’s probably important to acknowledge that some have more to fear than others – our life circumstances are not the same, and some of us are privileged with a pretty good set of defenses against the more common fears for safety, security and provision. I don’t tend to worry that my house will be bombed or that I will be separated from my children. But we know that fear doesn’t line up evenly with the risks out there. We feel what we feel, and sometimes the more we try to secure ourselves the more our fears take over.
The truth is that no amount of security or privilege can eliminate our vulnerability. Things will happen. We will be hurt. We will lose things that matter to us. The darkness will come and we will be at the mercy of something we cannot control. There is plenty to fear out there in the world and within our own hearts.
So again we ask – why shouldn’t we be afraid? The answer that comes back in so many of these biblical encouragements to “fear not” is that God will be with us. Isaiah 41:10 serves as a good example. “Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.” Or the familiar words of Psalm 23: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff – they comfort me.” The “fear not” doesn’t necessarily take us out of the dark valley, but it does promise help and strength and comfort and companionship as we walk through it.
I like this line from Jess Erb, a therapist who sees clients in Winnipeg. In the context of her work, she reframes the biblical call to “fear not” by saying rather: “Let us embark on a fearful journey together.”
(“To be seen within the counselling relationship” in Vision: A Journal for Church and Theology, 20.1 (Spring 2019), 83.)
Which, come to think of it, is the invitation that Joseph receives too. His encouragement to “be not afraid” is attached to the birth of this child that will be called Emmanuel – which means “God with us.” Even in scary situations. God with us now not in a metaphorical sense or even a purely spiritual sense, but God with us as one of us. God with us in ways we can see and touch. God with us in a person through whom we recognize our own experiences of being human – including fear. I think of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemene before his arrest – wrestling with his own fear of what is to come, his fervent wish to find a different way. His own human mortality about to be tested – if they pierce me, do I not bleed?
This is God with us not as pie in the sky but as flesh of our own human flesh. Do not fear because I have walked this road before. I have come through it and will bear you through it too.
But Joseph isn’t the only one in the gospel birth narratives who is told not to be afraid. I’m going to side-step us out of Matthew for a moment, and pick up a few of these moments in the first chapters of Luke. Zechariah is the first to hear it, as the birth of John the Baptist is announced. “Then there appeared to him an angel of the Lord, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified; and fear overwhelmed him. But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard.”
Mary hears it next. Interestingly, she gets the same promise of Emmanuel that Joseph does. The angel Gabriel says to her: “Greetings favored one! The Lord is with you.” Mary is confused and concerned, and so the angel continues: “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” And another unexpected pregnancy is set in motion.
Finally, in Luke chapter two, after Jesus is born, the shepherds out in the Bethlehem fields are struck with terror as they have their own angel encounter. And once again, God’s messenger is obliged to say: “Do not be afraid; for see – I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.”
Do you notice something a bit odd in each of these encounters? Particularly around what’s causing the fear that these angel messengers are trying to sooth? I have an image of God comforting us within a world of terror, holding us close and promising that we do not need to fear amidst the destructive forces that circle around us. But in these stories at least, it’s the angel messengers themselves that are the cause of fear. They show up in front of these poor human beings, and scare them half to death! It does make you wonder what these angels looked like. Maybe not so much like a hallmark cherub. Unexpected, in any case, and totally outside the realm of ordinary experience.
But I think this pattern is telling. Maybe it’s important to acknowledge that God’s plans can be a little scary too. As Mark described last week, restoration projects are always a bit of a leap of faith. Things generally get worse before they get better, and there’s usually a good long time of inconvenience, frustration and hard work before we see the improvement. Change is hard. Especially when it’s not just a room in your house, but a room in your heart – or in your womb!
What if the thing we really fear is that God might actually do something? We long for restoration, but we’ve also gotten comfortable with things the way they are – sometimes even the parts that are hard or painful, and certainly the parts that are unfair in our favour. When it comes right down to it, the broken world that we know may feel preferable to the unknown of God’s restoration. Especially if the first step in the renovation project is stripping us down to the studs.
If we read on into Luke’s gospel, the disciples that Jesus gathers around him find themselves afraid quite regularly. And often as not it’s Jesus who has scared them! He calls them away from their boats and nets and families – and when they hesitate he says: “Do not be afraid – from now on you will be catching people.” When they get caught in a great storm, they fear the wind and the waves but they are just as afraid of the authority by which Jesus calms the waters. Or by which he heals a man with demons. The power of this Jesus to order creation and change lives is a fearful thing. This is the work of the Almighty God, creator of earth and heaven.
But I suspect that what scares the disciples most about this Jesus they follow is not the demonstrations of power but his readiness to give of himself. His readiness to eat with outcasts, to welcome children, to ignore the conventions of privilege, to walk empty handed into the halls of power, to receive the judgment of this world and offer his very life. What kind of Messiah is this? And what if he wants us to live like that too?
God’s plans can be a little scary. Even when they come into the world as a tiny baby. Maybe especially when they take the form of a tiny baby. That leaves us with a lot of learning and growing and transforming to do as we get on board with what God is up to.
A couple of weeks ago, Tamara Shantz was invited to share a few words at the inauguration of the new Council for Woolwich Township. She spoke about our current experience of significant social division and polarization, including the many important realities of injustice that are being revealed and are challenging the status quo. But Tamara described the heart of the division that we experience as a matter of deep fear. Of immense anxiety as so many systems and structures and ways of knowing are being disrupted and shaken. We react with anger or hate or intolerance as our collective fear ratchets up and leaks out.
What do we do with this? Well, Tamara suggested that we need to be more honest with ourselves about just how scared we are. How little many of us can see of the way forward. We need to recognize the deep presence of fear within and among us. Name and touch it. Get to know what it feels like in us and learn how to listen compassionately for it in others. Tamara puts it so profoundly herself that I’m going to read a bit from her own words:
“Courageous and authentic leadership means learning to breathe with this fear
Learning to allow the breath to support us
So that the fear stays lovingly contained, grounded, held,
And cannot grow and spread
And finally, I believe that courageous and authentic leadership will practice befriending our fear
Welcoming our fear as a necessary presence
As an invitation to dig deep into what matters to us most
As someone calling our attention to something we might not notice otherwise
When we can be more consciously present with our fear,
It no longer needs to shape shift
It no longer needs to distort
Instead, I believe it transforms into deeper wisdom, more powerful compassion, ever more expansive love,
And I believe that if we stay present to our fear, that it will transform into what we most need right now: guidance.
It is only through our fear, not bypassing our fear, that the guidance we need will unfold.”
(Tamara Shantz, “Woolwich Township Council Invocation,” November 28 2022, Lions Hall, Elmira. Township of Woolwich Inaugural Council Meeting – November 28, 2022 – YouTube)
Or as Jess Erb says, “Come, let us embark on a fearful journey together.”
Which, it seems to me, is the invitation that Joseph and Mary and Zechariah and the Bethlehem shepherds heard too. Don’t be afraid, because we’re doing this together. Unto you a child is born and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means, “God is with us.” God is with us. Not in the absence of fear, but in its very pulsing and churning heart. Ready to transform what we carry into the very things that we need.
Amen.