BE NOT FEAR

 

BE NOT FEAR  “The angel said to Mary, “Be not fear.” (Luke 1:30)  I thank God for angels. I mean the angels of good, who are all around us. They are all around us in scripture, they are all around us in church, and they are all around us whenever communities of good faith gather together.   The word, “angel” means, simply, “messenger.” Angels deliver messages, proclaim things. Angels deliver news. The prefix “ev-” means “good.” Thus, an “ev-angel” is someone who proclaims good news. At its root, evangelism is the proclamation of good news. Good news, not bad news.  The Gospel is supposed to be good news.   In the Bible, there is one particular phrase that angels use whenever they show up. It is a sign that the angel is from God. The angel says, simply, “Do not fear.” It is the first thing the angel said to Mary.   Angels say that all the time. It is what the angel told Joseph in another story: “Do not be afraid.” It is what the angel told Zechariah when Elizabeth was pregnant. It is what the angel told the shepherds in the fields: “Do not fear.” It is what Jesus said when he walked on the water. It is what the angel said to the women at the tomb: “Be not afraid.” It what Jesus said to his disciples as they left the tomb. It is what the Son of Man says in the last book of the Bible: “Be not afraid; I am the first and the last.”   I am preaching to myself this Christmas. I am preaching to the fear that invades me –and you—every day. What I seem to wake to every day are: more things to be afraid of. When I listen to the radio or TV, when I read the newspaper, when I scroll through web sites, the items that draw my attention are often the items designed to make me afraid of something. More dangers, more cautions, more worries, more horrors, more scoldings.   I turn to the 23rd Psalm: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”   I thank God, however, not just for the mere words of the angels. Sometimes, I hear the words so incessantly that they make me afraid: “Do not fear. Do not fear. Do not fear.” Today, there is something about good angels that is even stronger than their words.   It is their presence. It is not the admonition, “Do not fear,” that comforts us. It is the presence of someone without fear. It is the presence of the absence of fear.   Sometimes the best thing we can do for a fearful person is not just tell them, “Don’t be afraid.” Instead, the best thing we can do is to be a presence of non-fear. To be the absence of fear. “Be… not fear.” (Not: “Do …not fear.”)  But: “Be…not fear.”   Like the angels, be a presence of peace, not a presence of anxiety.   I am reminded, on this holy day of non-fear, of the great theologian Charles Schultz, the creator of the cartoon, Peanuts. One of his strips is only one panel long, one drawing. Charlie Brown and Snoopy are sitting on Snoopy’s house looking away towards the sunset. Charlie Brown sighs and says, “One day we will all die, Snoopy.” “One day we will all die.” And Snoopy’s response is simple: “True, but on all the other days, we will not.”   Ah. There are lots of voices, so many voices, who seize our attention with news of death, prophecies of disaster, warnings of calamity. The general news outlets of the world deal us that kind of news every minute.   The news that we proclaim, from this church, and from every community of good faith around the world, is different. Isaiah said,” “Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good tidings; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings, lift it up, do not fear” (Isaiah 40:9).   The gospel in these times is not simply to be another word of warning or scolding. Churches themselves have an unfortunate history of being scolders, telling us every minute what we are doing wrong, bringers of bad tidings. “Be afraid,” they seem to say, “Be very afraid.”   That is the old, ungraceful, Christianity of Pharisees. It is bad for us. The healthy gospel is to be, to be, the presence of non-anxiety, to be the presence of non-fear, to be the presence of peace.   The true angels of God, bringing us good news today, proclaiming good news, are the angels singing about peace. True angels are the ones around us whose very presence is peace. They do not even need to say, “Do not fear.” Their presence is itself peace. Their very being is peace. They are not fear.   And the word I do get from them is this:   Do not “be” fear. Do not “be” anxiety. Do not “be” high maintenance.   Be “not fear.” Be “no anxiety.” Be “low maintenance.”   Be peace. Be calm. Every year we try to sing that. “All is calm, all is bright.” It is what we try to represent in church every Christmas Eve, when we stop the liturgy, right after communion and before the last prayer. We get still. We turn down the lights. We light candles. We stop. And we sing the hymn, “Silent Night.” “All is calm. All is bright.” We are singing about a new presence in the world!   The angel told Mary, “Be not fear.” And I am saying the same thing, to myself, and to you, and to the world, “Be not fear.”   Thank you for being a part of “comfort and joy” this year. Thank you for wanting a holy place where “all is calm, all is bright.” The world needs this presence of “No Fear.” Thanks be to God for good news: “Be not fear.”   24 December 2023

THANKSGIVING THIS YEAR

THANKSGIVING THIS YEAR This year, I am thankful for grocery store visits.   They usually do not start well. I am irritated that our house has run out of something important, and we are supposed to never run out. It might be eggs or butter. It might be toilet paper. So, we assemble a list of other things we need. I will realize later that I have forgotten something. I make my way. I am already a bit impatient.   I drive my familiar route to the local market. Our store might be a regular chain, and it might be a farmers’ market, but I have a preferred way to get there. Efficient as it is, it is rarely without traffic, and I encounter both the slowpokes and the speedsters. I am on an errand, and it is a chore.   Next, I meet the challenge of finding a convenient parking spot. There is never a convenient parking spot. I am on an errand, and it is a chore. Both cars and people zig and zag through the parking lot; there has never been an efficiently designed parking lot, anywhere. I practice patience.   But something happens as I walk to the store. I meet people. I meet all sorts of people, from the finest to the most slovenly. I realize –I even give thanks—that we are all here to meet our basic needs, and we share something in common in those needs. I say hello. I even smile. The grocery store, the market, has gathered us all together. The grocery store visit is my discipline of practicing patience.   Once inside, I meet more people in need. So engrossed are they in their purchase, they are blocking the entire aisle. I slow down. Next, the poor shelf stockers are lugging huge carts of new supplies down the aisle. They cannot even see me, and they invariably stop their cart right in front of the items I was hoping to peruse. I smile, and they try to move their load.   Patience comes more easily when we respect people! At the farmers’ market, we get a chance to respect their more recreational clothes, too: and we have the opportunity to respect their dogs!   The store is sold out of at least one of things I had hoped to buy. Perhaps the supplier no longer even makes the product. I have to find a substitute. I study a bit. Sometimes, I actually find a new favorite food. I talk with a person I had seen in church last week but not been able to speak to. I see some people I have not seen in years. They are still coming to the grocery store.   I get to the checkout lines and can never predict which will be the shortest. Never. Of course. I inevitably choose the line with the slowest checkout person, and she has to ask me which kind of tomatoes I picked out. She is nice. The person putting my items into bags is doing his best, and I help him a bit. They have helped me assemble my needs. I am thankful for them.   Finally, I have paid the bill; and I push a cart, or carry a laden bag, to the car. I am thankful for the gift of having stores nearby, with such supplies. Not every culture, not even every American, can drive to a local market for fresh goods.   Then, a few days later, maybe that very evening, another routine develops. Someone prepares a feast with the supplies of the day. We may take turns with the preparation. Maybe the dinner is a small supper for only two people, or maybe just one. Maybe, just maybe, the supper is a feast! Maybe others show. Maybe what was only a few fish and some bread, for a few people, becomes a feeding of five thousand.   When people take the time to do their chores, when we go to the grocery store and buy our routine things, we are preparing the way for something tremendous. We are preparing for a feast. I give thanks for the patience and love and discipline that going to the grocery store teaches me. And I give thanks for all those who have gone to the grocery store this year, for me, and for us. Their commitment and patience have prepared tables and altars for us. Eucharist means thanks! Let us give thanks! Let us keep the feast!