“And the word of the Lord came to Abram in
a vision,
‘Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield.’”
“And Jesus said, ‘Do not be afraid,
little flock, for it is
your father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.’”
Do
not be afraid. Do not be afraid. Two weeks ago when the bridge in Minneapolis
collapsed one of the first questions asked was, “Is the work of
terrorists?” That possibility was quickly dismissed, but still
these days whenever there is an explosion, a disaster of some sort,
that question is asked. It is a fear that is with us.
Two years ago right now Kay and I were in London. It was just a couple
of weeks after the terrorist bombing in the subway in which some 50
people were killed. Fear was tangible in that city. One day we took
“the tube” and a young man who looked as though he was of
middle-eastern ethnicity got on the train carrying a backpack. I watched
him nervously. I “profiled” him. I even got up and walked
to where he was sitting in order to check out the contents of his backpack
which had gapped open. I was afraid.
We’ve all heard and used the expression, “fear of the unknown.”
Our almost instinctive response to the unknown is fear and distrust.
The terrorist threat highlights a common element in our lives: fear
of that which is unknown and different. We don’t feel safe until
we know what we are encountering in life.
And
human beings are so varied in race, language, culture and religion.
We are so different in terms of gender, in terms of life experience,
that we are, to a large extent, strangers to one another. Fear of what
we do not understand in others prevents us from being in community with
them. We have a tendency to exclude them from community, which we assume
has to consist of the more or less like-minded. And so we often find
ourselves speaking a language of fear, a language of exclusion of those
who are different.
I heard a rather silly, but delightful story about a mother cat and
her three kittens out on a stroll. They suddenly saw a huge, ferocious
dog coming their way. The mother cat quickly hid her kittens under a
nearby porch. Then she turned and walked right up to the huge dog. She
looked straight into his eyes and
went,
“Ruff, Ruff, Ruff!” With that, the huge dog turned 180 degrees
and ran the other way. She went back to the porch and crawled into the
little space where she had hidden her three kittens. Sitting in front
of the kittens she said, “Now do you see why I insist you learn
a second language?”
Perhaps the greatest challenge for many folks today is the challenge
to learn a second language. I don’t mean French or Spanish or
German. I’m talking about the language of faith, rather than the
language of fear. Today, perhaps more than ever before in our world,
we need to learn the language of trust.
In order to speak the language of trust or the language of faith you
have to practice it. It’s hard to practice trust in today’s
world. We are afraid, afraid to have trust, afraid to have faith. We
constantly hear of trust being betrayed.
The presidential campaign is heating up, even though the election is
over a year away. I’m something of a political junkie. I always
enjoy election time. It’s like the circus coming to town. Lots
of entertainment! Lots of clowns!
But what or who do you believe? Our political leaders, of whatever
stripe, have not proven particularly trustworthy. We see an abject poverty
of ethical and moral behavior at the highest levels of our society,
in every endeavor, whether it be in politics, business, the church:
you name it. And so we find it difficult to speak the language of trust.
However, trusting each other is the beginning of a certain degree of
faith. Without a certain degree of faith or trust there can be no free
speech, no free elections, no honesty in our dealings with one another.
There can be no real sense of community.
Thomas
Merton, the Trappist monk, said “God makes us capable of liking
virtue before we possess it.” We like to admire virtue even if
we don’t possess it. Trust, which is a virtue, is also a habit.
It requires practice. No one can trust for us. Forgetting how to trust
has led us to rely on everything but one another. And so we rely on
random drug testing (and Barry Bonds gets an asterisk beside his name
in the record books), we rely on telephone and computer monitoring at
work, and dozens of other checks on our honesty.
So, we know this, don’t we? Ours is a world of distrust. And
here we who profess to be Christians gather this morning and here the
Lord of Life say, “Don’t be afraid.” How do we learn
not to be afraid? How do we practice and speak the language of trust?
As
most of you know, Kay and I live on the east coast of Florida. During
this time of the year we are careful to turn off the outside lights
that shine down on the dunes and the beach. This is done for the sake
of the sea turtles that come ashore at night to lay their eggs. When
the baby turtles hatch and emerge from their nests, they are drawn by
the moonlight back to the sea. At least that is the way it is suppose
to happen. God has provided for them to move through the darkness towards
the one light that will lead them to safety. However, the problem today
is that there are too many lights. Street lights, house lights and car
lights disorient the baby turtles so that they wander off in all sorts
of directions to become victims of crabs, gulls, and heat of the sun.
The light God intended them to follow gets lost I the midst of many
other distracting lights.
Many times in this life our peril lies not so much in our walk through
the darkness, but in our temptation to let the distractions of this
world draw us away from the one true light. If you and I want to practice
the language of trust, the language of faith, rather than the language
of fear. Then we need to stay close to the trustworthy one, the Christ.
When Jesus said to his followers, “Do not be afraid, little flock…”,
he then reminded them to put their trust in him and his kingdom, rather
than in the treasures of this world. We learn the language of trust
by keeping our eyes and our hearts on him. Trusting him, we begin to
be able to trust others.
Listen. Let me tell you what I’ve discovered about God and myself,
about God and you. God, the trustworthy one, God trusts you; God trusts
me. In the face of our deep distrust of others, God still trusts us.
Isn’t that amazing? Isn’t that amazing grace! God trusts
humanity enough to try to create a universal community. God trusts us
so much as to help us trust one another. That is the message of the
cross; that is the foolishness of God. He released into our world a
perfect love which casts out fear and goes on to enable us to love and
trust. You see, we are by nature fearful, full of fear and distrust.
The Good News is that we are, by God’s grace, by God’s love,
freed from fear and able to trust.
Do you want to find out if what I’m saying is true? Try it! Grace
happens! Believe it. See it. This is the language of faith. This is
the language of trust.
“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your father’s
good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Amen.