Proper 18b.06                                                  September 10, 2006

Let’s begin with the typical story line of the policeman
        killing the unarmed teenager.
It isn’t normally a sadist racist cop cruising the streets
        looking for an innocent person to kill.
It’s a scared rookie, in a dark alley,
        seeing something flash that looks like a gun,
                so he shoots.

Or take the opposite story,
        the one where the policemen is shot

        – like the tragic death of a Bibb County deputy
                a few months ago.
It isn’t usually a socio-path with a grudge against the law.
The police rush in,
        and a hyped up 20–year-old shoots out of fear.

In August, 1914, the last thing Germany and Russia
        wanted was to go to war with each other.
But each was afraid of being invaded,
        so the very fear of war pulled them
        over the precipice to their mutual ruin.

Fear is self-fulfilling.
Our current war in Iraq is an example.
Saddam Hussein didn’t actually have weapons of mass destruction

        – but he led people to believe he did have them,
                because he was afraid of an American invasion.
We were afraid of Saddam’s weapons of mass destruction;
        so we invaded.

Some of us remember when the Cold War was held in check
        by what we called “the balance of terror.”
And today, we commit violence out of fear of violence,
        and the cycle of violence goes on and on and on.

Fear is perhaps the central spiritual problem of the human race.
People, by and large, do not hoard their wealth
        and refuse to help others because they are selfish,
                uncaring, or greedy

        – but because they are afraid of not having enough

                – afraid of scarcity.

Fear comes in multiple guises.
Some of us are afraid of death;
        others, of life with its unpredictable changes.
Some fear loneliness; others, intimacy.
Some fear exposure; others, invisibility.
Some fear failure; others, success.

It’s as if an art instructor gave each of us
         a canvas of fear, a brush of anxiety,
                 and a palate of paranoia,
         then said go ahead and paint.
We each paint our own portrait of fear.

No wonder the angels always begin their messages,
         to human beings with the words “Do not be afraid.”
No wonder, God began his covenant with Abraham saying,

         “Fear not, Abram; I am your shield.”
And God said to Isaac, “Fear not I am with you.”
Moses said to Israel, “Fear not for God has come . . . .”
And so it goes.
The whole Bible is a litany of words of courage.

When Judah was about to be invaded by two
         vastly more powerful nations, Isaiah said,

         “Take heed, be quiet, do not be afraid,
                do not let your heart grow faint.”
And in today’s lesson, we read God’s message,

         “Say to those who are of a fearful heart,

                ‘Be strong, do not fear!
         Here is your God . . . . “

Jesus’ most frequent commandment
         to the disciples was “Do not be afraid.”
The invitation to stop cringing in the cave
         and step out into the light of life
         comes to its fullest flower in the words
                 of St. John the Evangelist:

         “There is no fear in love,
                 but perfect love casts out fear.”

Faith is not the opposite of doubt.
It is the opposite of fear.
Faith is courage born of trusting God.

Now we need to be clear what Scripture means by “fear.”
The Bible isn’t talking about a feeling.
When Isaiah speaks of being “faint-hearted,”
        he is thinking of the heart, not as the center of emotions,
                 but the center of the will.
To be “faint-hearted” means to be weak-willed.

The problem isn’t feeling afraid.
The feeling is natural.
Feelings are just energy surges

        – nothing good or bad, right our wrong about them.
The problem lies in the will,
        the choice of which feelings we live into.
Jesus calls us to live out of courage, not fear.

So the invitation isn’t to deny our feelings.
That would be just another level of fear.
We would be afraid of fear itself.

The invitation is to look within
        to see as clearly as we can what is it we are afraid of.
Is it life or death, failure or success, loneliness or intimacy?
Are we afraid of people who are different from us

        – different race, different religion, different nationality?

I met a man from Maine recently who lived in dread
        of being invaded by French Canadians.
He claimed to have organized a militia
        to defend us from Quebec.
It doesn’t really matter what we are afraid of.

The invitation is to let Christ touch and heal our fear.
The invitation is to soak our fear in God’s assurance:

        “Take heed, be quiet, do not be afraid, . . . .
                I am with you . . . . I am your shield . . . .
        In quietness and trust will be our strength.
        In returning and rest, we shall be saved.”

This faith which is the opposite of fear
        isn’t a mindless positive thinking.
It isn’t believing nothing bad will happen to us.
Bad things do happen.
Faith isn’t pretending that they don’t.

Faith is trusting that God is greater
        than the worst things that can happen.
God’s love is deeper than death itself,
        higher than life, and larger than the universe.

In Isaiah, the Lord said,

        “Lift up your eyes to the heavens,
               and look at the earth beneath;
        for the heavens will vanish like smoke,
               and the earth will wear out like a garment, . . . .
               but my salvation will be for ever
               and my deliverance will never end.”

And the Psalmist sang:

      “God is our refuge and strength, . . . .
      Therefore we will not fear though the earth should change
              though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;
      though its waters roar and foam,
              though the mountains tremble with its tumult. . . .
      The Lord of hosts is with us;
              the God of Jacob is our refuge.”

Faith is remembering the vastness of eternity
      which swallows everything into itself,
      and knowing that eternity isn’t a blank emptiness,
              but a loving spaciousness we know as God.

Faith is looking the risks of life in the eye,
      and daring to live anyway,
             because God is with us.

Faith is staring evil in the face
      and trusting that God wins

              – if not today, then someday,
                     finally and forever.

                                            Amen.