5th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 7B

The 5th Sunday after Pentecost-Proper 7B June 24, 2018 Today, I want you to think for a moment about what you are afraid of. When is the last time that you felt afraid? Now, think about this for a minute and be honest with yourself. I’m not just talking about a kind of “fearing for your life” afraid, although that is certainly legitimate. I’m talking about that low-level buzz of anxiety that may or may not cause us to act certain ways that we wouldn’t otherwise. Maybe you’ve been afraid because something new or different is going on with your health? Maybe you’ve been afraid because something is going on with someone you care about? Maybe you’ve been afraid because something is happening that you cannot control? Maybe you are afraid because your child is growing toward more independence, because you are afraid that you will lose your job or that you won’t have enough money to do all that you want to do? Maybe you are afraid that you will become infirm and not able to do all that you have been accustomed to doing? Maybe you are afraid when you watch the news? Have you got it yet, the last time you felt afraid? (Maybe it was just now when I listed all those scary things?) Ok. Now, think about how you reacted in that fear. Be truthful. Was your reaction how you would have acted if you had not been afraid? Jesus and the disciples are in a boat crossing over to the other side of the water. Jesus falls asleep in the stern on a cushion when a huge, scary storm whips up suddenly, and the disciples become afraid. They wake him up and greet him with the words, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He rebukes the wind and the waves, immediately calming the storm, and then he says to the disciples, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” At first glance, this story seems to be Jesus’s rebuke of the disciples of their fear and their lack of faith. But I think there is more going on there than that. I don’t think it is that simple. I can’t help but wonder if Jesus isn’t saying to them, “After all that you have seen me do in healing the sick and bringing folks into the kingdom of God, then why is your default reaction still one of fear and thinking that I don’t care about you?” Have you still no faith? Because that’s the thing about fear, isn’t it? Many times we don’t even realize that we are acting out of a place of fear or anxiety, but the way that fear provokes us to act is not out of our better nature. It is not out of a place of faith, hope, or love. A priest-friend told me a story about another priest this week. The priest had been asked to go to a hospice facility and to marry two people, one of whom was at the end of life. The priest wouldn’t do it, and when my friend asked him why not, he said, “All I could think about was all the rules.” My friend asked me if I would have done it, and I said yes. But as I think more about it and delve deeper into the depths of my own heart, I recognize that I, too, am a rule follower. I look to rules to keep me safe, and I can easily see how I would also look to the rules to support my acting from a place of fear. You see, it’s not always clear when we are acting out of a place of fear or anxiety, out of a place where we are not living into the fullness of faith, of who God created us to be. Sometimes we look to try to control situations. Sometimes we focus too much on the rules. Sometimes we label whole groups of people as bad or other. Sometimes we accuse those we love and who love us of not caring or we lash out against them. Sometimes we try to use certainty to squash both fear and any ambiguity. And sometimes we avoid dealing with things altogether, pretending that we are not afraid through denial or bravado. So what are we to do? Where is the good news in this? The Old Testament lesson, the story of David and Goliath, actually has something to offer us in this quest for considering what to do in the face of our fear. I'm thinking about the part of the story when Saul dresses the young David up in all his armor to equip him to meet the mighty Philistine giant in battle, but after realizing that he cannot walk in all the armor, David takes it all off, and goes with what he knows, what he has used to keep wild animals away from his father’s flock. He meets the Philistine warrior in battle armed with his staff, five smooth stones his shepherd’s back and his sling. That, my friends, is the fearless authenticity that faith calls us to as well. We don’t act a certain way just because someone tells us that is how we are supposed to act. We don’t let fear drive out what we know and hold to be true of ourselves and others. For us people of faith that is anchored in our baptism, in the fact that each of us is God’s beloved, cherished by God, and it is anchored in the resurrection—which showed us that God’s love is stronger than absolutely everything, even death. So we have absolutely nothing to fear. So in times of fear or anxiety, we hold on to the truths of our faith. The other thing that we can do is to kindly hold a mirror up to each other. When someone we know and love seems to be acting out fear as opposed to acting out of faith, then we are called to gently reflect that back to them. And in that process, we are given the opportunity to speak peace to each other. There is another side to all of this that I need to mention. It has to do with the state of our nation. I saw the cover page of the Christian Century magazine this past week, and I was struck by the words written there: “The Politics of Fear.” The politics of fear. This is what our partisan politics has devolved into—politicians playing and preying on our worst fears as individuals and as a people. No one is without bias. That’s part of human nature. That is why it is so important for us to do this inner work examining our own fears and how they motivate us, so that we can identify when the politics of fear are being employed upon us, to identify and hold fast to what we know to be true and to the key tenants of our faith, and to not fall into the trap of believing everything they are pedaling as antidote to the fear they are provoking. You invitation for this week is to pay attention to the times when you are afraid. Stop in the moment and offer that fear to Jesus and before you act, make space to hear his words echo in your soul: “Beloved: peace, be still.”