What makes you afraid?
Recently, the Denver Post staff surveyed really smart Coloradans to share what from their expertise truly worried them. One CU professor named the world’s over-reliance on antibiotics. “When I say it keeps me up at night, I’m not exaggerating [he noted]. . . by pumping livestock with antibiotics, we run the risk of bacteria, diseases, and viruses developing such powerful resistance that we end up with no effective class of drugs to treat them.”
A physicist pointed to the unnatural sighting of the northern lights in Colorado skies: the specter of a geomagnetic storm causing enough geomagnetic disturbance that the power grid becomes unstable. Imagine widespread power outages’ effect on homes, businesses, hospitals, self-driving vehicles. Another cited the native bee population colony collapse disorder, and its threat to crops that require pollination. Still another, an MSU professor of education who has studied literacy development for decades cited research that shows 50% of Colorado students are not meeting statewide reading standards. [The Denver Post, October 20, 2024]
I was surprised no one mentioned AI. But perhaps not surprisingly, a nationwide poll indicates just slightly less than half the population is concerned or deeply concerned about the future.
And you thought public speaking and relocation were bad. . . . !
Fact is, we all live with a lot of fear, and I haven’t even mentioned the big D—the death of our loved ones and ourselves. It’s part of the wonder and worry of being human, meaning mortal, vulnerable, and destined for the grave. So I guess it shouldn’t surprise us that our faith addresses this robustly. Fear not! proclaim prophets, poets, angel messengers, and Jesus himself. Some 500 times (one preacher insists there are exactly 366 references, one for every day of the year, including leap year).
As we enter the season of Advent in which we wait for God and look with hope in our hearts for the promised day of peace, joy, and love, we will consider what it takes to live fearlessly (well, with maybe a little less fear) with what we know about the future. . . and what we don’t.
Today’s text is attributed to Jesus, but Biblical scholars insist it actually represents the church’s reckoning with the destruction of the temple and the fall of Jerusalem some thirty years after Jesus’ death. When tragedies strike and human history is plunged into darkness, what—or whom—can be trusted? How do we make meaning out of the chaos? What is the source of our courage? A reading from the good news according to Luke, chapter 21, verses 25 through 36.
Listen for God’s Word, dear people of God…and fear not! [LUKE 21:25-36]
Have you seen the Apple TV series called Shrinking? It’s a comedy about a psychiatrist dealing with the sudden death of his wife (I know that may sound like a contradiction in terms). The show manages to find humor in the ways he gets over-involved with his patients, rebuffs the helpful overtures of his concerned (and slightly quirky) neighbors and most poignantly, desperately seeks to help his grieving teenaged daughter.
A supporting cast includes a sassy young therapist dealing with a painful divorce, and a still-hot Harrison Ford as the firm’s lead psychiatrist with crusty brusqueness masking his own regrets resulting in family dysfunction. The title makes a verb out of the work of “shrinks,” and as a reminder that life’s brokenness makes us all shrink in fear and the only way to grow again is through relationship.
Why I’m mentioning it in the context of this sermon is because the show insists that love is demonstrated through focused attention. If you can’t “see” me, it’s impossible to help me. If you are wrapped up in your own concerns, you can ignore mine.
And I think that’s the message of our text too. “Be alert” …. “watch out”….. “stand up and raise your heads” suggest to me one way out of fear is to focus. Look into the unknown not with eyes glued to present realities (the “worries of this life”), but towards the fulfillment of God’s promised kin-dom that is nearer than we might imagine. The descriptions are sufficiently chaotic to assure us that we will not escape all trouble and frailty.
Instead it more than suggests God’s power is greater and will endure long after everything else passes away. Keep focused on the One whose advent is near, in whose presence you will stand.
So let’s have some conversation about this. I invite you to move into groups of 4 or 5 in your pew rows, and consider these interrelated questions: How might “focus” allay our fears? What distracts us from being able to focus?
What did you hear? Feels like one challenge to “focus” is being or becoming distracted. We’re constantly bombarded with glittery memes and media and messages to pull us away from a peaceful and confident center. We’re trapped in a seemingly endless cycle of competition and control, and haunted by the fear that we’re not enough. We are drunk on the love of power. We’re stuck to our phones. We’re groomed for consumerism.
Despite the cost of a carton of eggs, for example, Americans will spend 984 billion dollars on Christmas gift-giving, travel, decorating, food, and drink.
Now take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. And another. One reason we worship is to regain our focus. We come together and act in decidedly counter-cultural ways. We sing hymns. We pray. We read Scripture and listen for its wisdom. We remember we are not alone in our lives, nor in our time. We have companions (many of whom we did not or would not choose) who are committed to our wellbeing, and we to theirs. We remember Jesus and how he gave us the example of the best ways to live: by loving God and our neighbors as ourselves.
Let’s get back in our pew groups to consider ways and means to keep our focus during this busy, hectic season as well as this time of national ferment. What are some practices we can engage in to keep our hearts and minds focused on love? [3 minutes]
Following worship today, some might find walking the labyrinth laid out in the chapel an experience of focus. This ancient prayer ritual reflects the journey of faith: we enter the path and let go of preconceived ideas, weary patterns, and our own agendas. We come into the presence of God who illumines our path. We return, with renewed strength and focus.
And perhaps nothing brings clarity to our lives as does the meal we will share in a moment. Here we taste the mystery and miracle of Divine Love that liberates us from self-bounded “little” lives and nourishes us with what we need to reconnect with Spirit and one another.
Imagine, my friends: a community of companions reorienting our lives and finding new energy, focused on the One Love with the power to change us, and everything. The One Love that casts out fear and replaces it with hope. The One Love whose advent is near, and growing closer with every passing day. Fear not!
May it be so.
