2A Advent 4 Dec 2022
Fear. The angel Gabriel said to Mary, “Do not fear.” I keep wondering how a fourteen-year-old girl, able to have children but certainly not a fully grown woman, could not help but to be afraid. I cannot imagine my fourteen-year-old self trying to handle something with the ramifications of what she might experience. At fourteen years I was interested in learning and adventure and travel; the last thing on my mind was to become a mother. Yet Mary said, “Let it be.” As we read the scriptures, she calls herself the servant of the Lord, but the Greek word is slave. Did she believe she had a choice? I believe she did. I believe she had a choice, and she chose to let God meet her in her fear and protect her from it. She said yes to God.
Is it not normal to fear when we are asked to do something new? When we learned to drive a vehicle, there was excitement mixed with fear. Driving could open hope new vistas, new worlds; but it also carried with it the risk of injury or death. Or how about being caught in a blizzard when you are out on the road? One time when I was in my mid 20’s I was caught in an ice storm that became a fierce snowstorm. The car went off the road, but some strangers stopped and pushed or pulled me back onto the road. The window on the driver’s side shattered and I drove the next however many miles at what could truly be called a snail’s pace and with snow coming in through the fragmented window. Yet I made it safely; helped by strangers who put themselves at risk and blessed by the fact the wind was blowing from the passenger’s side. I had so much cortisol and adrenalin in my system I did not sleep for two days. I have had other encounters with Midwest winters, yet here I am. If we went around the room we would certainly hear of other close encounters. I believed, and perhaps you did as well, that for whatever reason God gave me what I needed and I am in deep gratitude.
Fear is, I believe, at the base of much of our own tribalism. This is a different type of fear. This is not holy fear, but fear born of not knowing those we are “othering” and the fear of scarcity. We project all sorts of traits on those we want to remain the other: Mexicans are dirty, Jews will cheat you, blacks are barely human, Catholics worship the pope, and so on and so on. Stereotypes that serve to divide us and keep us strangers. It is true we have many differences due to ethnicity and life circumstances, but these should be dealt with by learning to know others, and often our differences are reasons to celebrate and enjoy one another. The second issue, that of scarcity, is a falsehood. There is enough; God has provided enough for all when no one has too much. But scarcity is used by the rich and greedy to further divide. The richest people in the world could give up their wealth and the poorest would have food and meaningful work. I believe this fear of others, this tribalism that is the basis of right-wing militias and overtly racist groups, is the most evil fear, for it is fear sown by Satan that keeps us from becoming the people of God. It is the same fear that has led to the proliferation of guns in the United States. Satan does his work very well.
There is another fear: the sort of fear we have as children that only our parents, if we have good parents, can alleviate. These are the monsters that live under our beds and in our closets. These are the nightmares we have as kids. I would lay awake at night, perhaps you did as well, afraid to get out of my bed because surely the evil things under the bed would come out and do…. I don’t know what I expected them to do. But the feeling of dread, the feeling that I would be destroyed was real. Finally I yelled for my parents and one of them would come in. They understood; the closet and drawers were checked and the bed looked under; never once was a monster found. Even though it was still dark, the light had come into the room. I knew I was safe.
I was listening to an episode of Finding Your Roots and one of the guests was telling about his stepfather doing just that. He had what is called night terrors and sleep paralysis, where you are awake yet dreaming horrible things and at the same time you cannot move. I know because I experienced the same thing as a child (and never told my parents). He would scream and his father would come into the room and sit with him until he was ok. For him, the dreams lasted until he was a teenager and his stepfather patiently stayed in his room all night, then went to work the next day.
I would like to think God is like that father; he, or she, will come to us in our worst fears, our worst nightmares, and check the closets and drawers and, most importantly, under the bed. And then God will sit with us until the first light of dawn, when all those monsters disappear.
Wasn’t it Franklin Roosevelt who said we have nothing to fear but fear itself? It took me until I was an adult to understand just what that might mean. Fear, even when we call it by another name, is the root of much, if not all, evil. Fear can lead us to do awful things to ourselves and others and fear will keep us from experiencing the love that God wants to share with us. Fear could have kept Mary from becoming the mother of God. But God met her in her fear and God can and will meet us in our own. What if every person let God meet them in their own fears? In this Advent season, this time of waiting, I wait and hope that we will let God do just then. Perfect Love casts out fear.
Amen
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