“Do Not Fear”

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

June 25, 2023

Romans 6:1-11

Matthew 10:24-39

“Do not fear.” We hear it three times in today’s passage. Probably because this passage comes directly after what we heard last week. Jesus is still in the process of telling his disciples what to expect when he sends them out to heal and proclaim the good news. He already told them that they will do amazing things. They may not be welcome in some places, He told them that they would be dragged before governors and flogged in synagogues. They would be hated and persecuted.

Today, he continues by telling them to expect to be treated like their master. But don’t be afraid. And again, do not be afraid of those who can kill the body. And then he goes on about how what he teaches in private, the disciples will spread to the ends of the earth. But do not be afraid because God loves every cell in your body and is with you through all of your challenges.

All of this leading up to the fact that what Jesus has just commanded of his disciples will bring division instead of peace. It will divide families and communities. But, you know…do not be afraid.

To be honest, someone telling me not to be afraid just doesn’t work. That’s like telling me to ‘just believe.’ Stop worrying. Don’t be sad. As if I have some sort of switch that I can turn on and off. Just stop being afraid. Sure. The addition of hearing what to expect doesn’t help much, either. So, what do we do with all of this? What do we do with the reality that actually proclaiming the gospel can be dangerous?

I appreciate a reflection I read on the website called “At the Edge of Enclosure.” There, contributor Suzanne talks about the book, “When Things Fall Apart,” by Pema Chodron. She says:

…recognize fear. Lean into fear. Work with fear. Appreciating fear is the foundation of sanity. Fear itself is the vanguard of wisdom, the vanguard of courage. She says, don't go into life just for good feelings, but acknowledge and touch what is uncomfortable and unpleasant. (Good advice for the departing disciples, since the mission itself implies hardship.) Place your fear in the cradle of loving-kindness, she says. And be kind to yourself first of all because without kindness toward your own self you're not going to be able to summon up mercy for other people. (What does bearing the Good News mean but to offer mercy and loving-kindness?)

Recognize fear. Lean into fear. So that you can express love. That’s brilliant! We try so hard to stuff fear way down deep, so that we can ignore it. Pretend it’s not there. We think that if we can push it away, it will be as if there is no fear. Chin up. Put on your happy face. But in fact, the deeper we bury our fear, the larger it becomes, exploding out in ways we couldn’t imagine. Pouring from us, hanging onto the coattails of grief and anger.

Acknowledging fear helps to diminish its power. It’s still there, but it doesn’t have to control our actions and decisions. Because if we’re honest with ourselves, most of the expressions of anger and hatred and unhealthy grief are fueled by unacknowledged fear.

Many of you know I went to Kansas with my family and my sister’s family last week. We were trying to help my mom clear out things from her basement. We threw out papers from my dad’s desk, notebooks filled with photo-copied music, broken lamps, unwearable clothing. A dozen trash bags left the house.

We took dining tables and chairs, desks, dressers, more lamps, candles, recliners, vases, and more, loading it up in a truck to bring here for a sale. The kids distracted my mom so she wouldn’t see what we were taking. She still got angry about a dresser. She still worried about a doll bed that she had as a child. She wanted to keep it—maybe our kids would want these things someday. They don’t. And she was angry.

Many of you can relate. You’ve had to clean out a loved one’s house, trying to figure out what to do with the decades of things that held memories—both good and bad. Perhaps you’ve sorted through your own collections, each item bringing back a memory of the past. Or maybe, like my mom, family has come in, sorting through your life as if it held no meaning at all.

I think that what we fear about this process is the idea that we are losing part of our lives—our history. That our legacy and memories are tied up in the things we have collected. That when those things are gone, the memories will fade. The meaning will fade. The history will fade. And we’ll be left with nothing tangible to hold onto as our lives, too, begin to fade.

But what we want for our mom is an opportunity to live without these things holding her down and holding her back. How do we do this for ourselves, as well? How do we lose our lives for the sake of love, and find the true life that has been waiting for us all along? What stops us from letting go of the things that weigh us down—whether they are possessions, grudges, titles, money, relationships, or something else?

It’s fear—tied up with grief and sometimes anger. And we wonder then: if these things we have amassed are deemed worthless, does our own value and the energy we put into obtaining them become meaningless, as well?

These are the things Jesus speaks to as he reveals what to expect as proclaimers of the faith. Our faith, our meaning, our value, our worth, our very lives are tied up in Christ—in Christ, alone. As Paul says in Romans 8, there is nothing that can take away God’s love for us. Not even death. Therefore, do not fear. Do not fear what people think of you. Do not fear what they do to you because of your faith. Do not fear losing what you have or what you’ve become.

Or, perhaps, lean into the fear. Acknowledge the fear. Embrace the fear. Take its power away. Because, at the end of the day, I don’t think we have much control over fear. It’s part of the limbic system. It is intrinsic. Automatic. But our response to fear is not. Our response to fear is well within our control.

Near the end of the passage, Jesus tells us to take up our cross and follow him. Now, that’s a weird statement for him to say BEFORE he’s been crucified, but the disciples probably still recognized the cross as the empire’s tool of fear. They used the cross to keep people in their place. They used the cross to manage uprisings and rebellions. They used the cross to keep power on their side.

But in Christ, we discover that the Roman’s greatest tool for fear can’t stop faith. On the cross, Jesus leaned into the fear that he had to have experienced. He leaned into it, looked it in the eyes, and said, “I love you.”

That’s how you deal with fear. That’s how you defeat hate and anger. That’s how you live through grief. You look it in the eyes and say, “I love you.” I love you in the midst of all the chaos and the struggle. I love you through the pain. I love you as my heart is breaking. I love you as I can’t imagine what comes next. I love you because I know there is nothing you can do to defeat or undo God’s love for me. And so I am free—I am free to love the fear. And in love, I am no longer afraid.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE