Anxious times don’t call for anxious measures

Proper 14C—Texts: Luke 12:32-40; Isaiah 1:1, 10-20; Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16

A thief? A master with slaves? Are these the roles that Jesus is laying out for God? What happens to our God if we take away benevolence? What a frightening thought! Occasionally, when I play with my friends and we toss around our theological musings, I try to toss around these ideas to see how they affect faith. Certain images, including the follower as slave hit a little too close to home. Because this exposes a latent insecurity in me: what if God isn’t very nice. What if God is tying us up? That one worries me a lot.

But that’s nothing compared with the anxieties, the worries, the fear shown by the disciples and shown by the early church.

Imagine that you’ve been following this guy around. You leave Mary and Martha’s and come to “a certain place” and you ask Jesus about prayer. Soon after that [this is between that gospel and last week’s], you watch Jesus’ public display of exorcism and his response to the demand of proof of miracles. You’re there for some more religious teaching, including last week’s story of the greedy farmer. What a strange life you have been living! Wouldn’t you be a little worried about this guy? You’ve devoted yourself to him, you’ve given everything up to follow him, your feet are in constant pain, and you just want to stop walking. You think about giving up, settling down with a family, and just relaxing. Wouldn’t you be a little afraid of what’s coming?

Now imagine the Lukan community that’s responsible for the gospel. It’s probably sixty years after Jesus’ death on the cross and they gather in secret in a house church, worried that any knock at the door could be someone looking to shut them down. What must fear be like for them? Even the very baptismal rite inherited from John the Baptist serves as a means of discerning a person’s intentions! It’s an oath to God and to that same frightened community, gathered to proclaim the Good News.

How little has changed! We are a fearful people still! We’re still obsessing over ‘viable numbers’. We come to church and look over our shoulders to make sure that we haven’t lost anybody or to see if we’ve picked somebody up. And what happens when we do? I’m not sure; I haven’t been here long enough, but I’m pretty sure that we start talking. Actually, probably whisper. “Did you hear about Betty? Can you believe what he said to her? No wonder she’s not coming anymore; I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t come back either.” And that same little monster that lives in the brain comes back the next week. “Betty was so right. This place is going to hell in a hand basket. Look, the Davidsons aren’t here either. It’s all his fault.” And don’t forget the newcomers: we do the same in reverse: “Who’s that? What is he doing here? Do you know him?”

We don’t start out to be petty. In the south they’d add “bless his heart” to the end to make sure you knew that it wasn’t ‘really’ gossip. But we’re afraid of so much, and this church that we love becomes the center of all that we fear. ‘My kids were baptized here: what if it’s not here to bury them.’ ‘If you change one thing, you must be willing to change anything.’ And I haven’t even gone into the comments we hear about “the young people”! But we use pettiness as a self-defense mechanism because we’re afraid. We’re afraid of a lot of things, and I’ll tell you what, it really isn’t change.

We’re afraid of scarcity. We’re afraid we don’t have enough. We’re afraid that we aren’t doing enough. We’re afraid that we’re wasting our opportunities.

We’re afraid to do what we’re called to do. We’re afraid to actually be the children of God, because if we do it, and really mean it… Why risk everything? Why do it? Why follow Jesus? Why “sell your possessions, and give alms”? There’s a part of you that says don’t risk it—don’t do it. That little brain monster. That’s the fear talking. And what does Jesus say: “Do not be afraid”. He even calls his disciples a “little flock”. “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Jesus is reassuring those fearful disciples as he reassures the Lukan community and in turn reassures us. “Do not be afraid”. It’s such a common refrain in Jesus’ ministry. As often as Jesus speaks of love, he also instructs to not be afraid. The reason? “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Jesus puts the idea of attachment on its head—it isn’t just getting rid of stuff and receiving a reward for it—it’s moving that attachment from your stuff to your relationship with God! What a profound way to destroy your fears! A profound way to destroy your main source of anxiety—to deflect its power!

The second part of the gospel lesson, clearly the first half of a different, though related lesson, brings urgency to that faith. Less eschatological, less end of the world and more about the urgency of faith in Christ—replacing that concern and anxiety, and all of those emotional roadblocks with an equally powerful insistence to faith. For Jesus, this urgency is essential to our faith. Like the Old Testament lesson from Isaiah suggests, the call is to urgency, not anxiety. There it says in triplicate couplets

1. Cease to do evil / learn to do good;
2. Seek justice / rescue the oppressed,
3. Defend the orphan / plead for the widow.

These, all double actions: stop doing bad and learn to do good things. Don’t just seek justice, but rescue those oppressed in the world. Both defend the orphan and plead for the widow.

In fact, all of our lessons call us to urgency. In Isaiah, it is urgency in action. In Hebrews, it is urgency in faith. In Luke, it is urgency in readiness. This same urgency is present in action and faith and to be prepared to act at a moment’s notice—to be able to drop everything and love. Jesus is telling us that we can’t do that if we’re afraid. We must be ready to give up those anxieties; those things that comfort us about our environment. We find such comfort in that anxiety, that feeling of certainty that allows a misguided captain to go down with the ship rather than fix the breech in the hull. What warmth comes from such arrogance! But greater is the rejection of that brain monster. Greater is the rejection of that wall that keeps us from embracing the faith that removes anxiety.

“Do not be afraid”.

Our greatest asset is community and the beauty of the community; the beauty of this community is here; right now. It is this very moment as we gather ourselves together, listen to the Word of God, pray for others, and then prepare ourselves for the feast. That is the currency of faith.

Jesus instructs us to check our anxiety at the door for a minute. I know that we’re all capable of this. We can unburden ourselves. We are called to remove that mantle of fear; that mantle of doubt; that mantle of self-deception that keeps you, that prevents you, that shackles you. Jesus wants nothing more than for you to be free of it. And there isn’t a proper order—no snaps or buckles in sequence—to remove this weight. Just get it off! Take it off, throw it to the ground and embrace who you are: the children of God.