Luke
12:49-56
While
I was at seminary in New York City, I spent some time working for St. James’
Church on Madison Avenue. It was a very affluent parish with an active ministry
to homeless people, dozens of whom could be seen around the church every day.
So the congregation decided to create a homeless day center, sort of like the
Haven here in Charlottesville, where people could come for a meal, a shower,
and some sense of community. Well, it was a good and necessary thing to do, but
all hell broke loose. People in the neighborhood did not want such a facility
anywhere near them, and they fought the church furiously. So at one point a
public meeting was held, attended by several hundred people. Like most of the
parishioners at St. James, these were residents of the Upper East Side: they
were educated and successful people. And they were terrifying: they screamed at
us and some of them actually threatened us with violence. In the years that I
lived in Manhattan, it was the only time I feared for my physical safety. I
really did not think we would get out of there unscathed. Many people spoke,
hurling abuse and vitriol at us, and then finally the rector of the church got
up to speak. He did not respond in anger, nor did he give in to fear. He stated
simply why the church wanted and needed to do this, why it was the right thing
to do. He spoke the truth in love. And when he spoke, the place got quiet:
there was a presence in that room, a presence greater than any of us. I don’t
think he changed many minds, but he did change the mood, and my own fear just
disappeared. I remember the occasion vividly.
I
share that story because in the Gospel today Jesus warns us that his message,
the Good News of God’s kingdom, will not always be welcome. It challenges the
status quo, it threatens the powers that be, and it will create divisions, even
to the point of dividing families. But I also tell you that story because I was
afraid — and something overcame my fear. Last week, I preached about living in
the Kingdom and about how that means not living in fear, and after the service
someone asked me, “How do I do that? How do I not live in fear? Because I am
afraid. Part Two of your sermon should be telling us how not to be afraid.” I
took that to heart, and I feel called to address it. But I do not address it as
someone who has conquered fear: I haven’t. But I can say some things as a
fellow traveler, and I can share what I believe the Bible reveals and what I
have experienced to some degree in my own life.
To
begin with, people are told not to be afraid in the Bible hundreds of times
because it was easy for people to feel afraid. And it still is. The gun
violence we addressed last week is just one of many things that make the world
a scary place. But in addition, as the Gospel shows us today, following Christ
can be scary. The people around us will not always applaud us. And personal
transformation, any kind of deep change, is also scary. And so over and over
again throughout Scripture people hear the message, “Do not be afraid.” I don’t
think it’s a reprimand — “You shouldn’t be afraid! Shame on you!” — nor do I
think it’s a magical formula, as if just saying the words, “Do not be afraid,”
will instantly set people free from fear. What matters in all these biblical
stories is not just what is being said, but who is saying it. Every time
someone hears that message in the Bible —Do not be afraid! — they are hearing
God. It may be delivered by a prophet or an angel or Jesus himself, but when
people hear it, they are encountering something greater than themselves. That’s
what I experienced at that public meeting years ago — a powerful sense of God’s
presence. That’s what made my fear evaporate, and that’s what so often sets
others free from fear as well.
Living
in the kingdom means becoming a more and more aware of how close God is to us
at all times and in all circumstances. Julian of Norwich, whose wonderful book
we are reading in contemplative prayer, wrote, “Faith is nothing but right
understanding, reinforced by true belief and trust in the depths of our beings,
that we are in God and God is in us, even when we cannot see this truth.” We
are in God and God is in us: this is what the Incarnation is all about, it’s
what Jesus lives and teaches and demonstrates. Our worship, our private prayer,
our acts of service, our ministries — they are all meant to help us consciously
and intentionally live that great truth.
And
over the years of celebrating the Eucharist and sitting in contemplative prayer
and ministering in various ways, I have come to understand at ever deeper
levels that not only is God in me, but the God in me is love. The Christ self
in me and in you is love — unstoppable, unbeatable, undying love. Countless
numbers of women and men over the centuries have been able to endure even the
worst horrors because they knew that God is in them and they are in God and God
is love. The Apostle Paul, who suffered beatings and imprisonment and other
extreme hardships until he was finally beheaded in Rome, spoke eloquently of
what allowed him to face all that so courageously. In his letter to the Romans,
he writes, I am convinced that neither
death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to
come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation,
will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom.
8:38-39). Or as the First Letter of John says more succinctly, perfect love casts out fear.
None
of this is academic to me. I wrestle with fear a lot. I confess to you that
every single time I stand up here to preach, I am afraid. I feel exposed and
frightened. My children are growing up and in the process of leaving, and I am
afraid to let them go. I am afraid of the kind of death to ego that God
continually calls me to. I am afraid of offering the witness to Christ I feel
called to offer because much of the world doesn’t want to hear it. But over
time I have discovered what the biblical writers knew and what saints and
mystics have known for thousands of years: the love of God lives in me and it
lives in you, and that love is stronger than any fear. It is what is enabling
me to preach right now. We may have moments of feeling afraid, but I know that we
do not have to be controlled by our fear. And the only thing I can honestly
preach that sets us free from the domination of fear is love, the experience of
God’s love, the love Jesus embodies and reveals, alive in us. Jesus tells us, Abide in me as I abide in you . . . abide in
my love (John 15:4, 9). Meditate on that. Cultivate that. Live that. If we
truly want to overcome fear, that is the only way I know that works. And I know
it works.
Thanks for this, David. I can relate to the “every time I get up to preach, I feel fear” thing! These last few readings have been hard to preach on!
ReplyDelete