Sermon Tone Analysis

Luke 1:26–38 (NRSV)

“Do not fear.”

According to a Christianity Today, popular digital Bible reading platform, YouVersion, saw an 80% in searches during 2020.

And the most popular verse searched for, read, and bookmarked?

Isaiah 41:10

In a time of great upheaval and social tension, people around the world looked to the Scriptures for comfort and guidance.

And we find it in this variation of the most common command we hear throughout the Scriptures: “Do not fear.”

Fear Not.

Do not be afraid.

Do not fear.

We know this draw to find comfort and solace in the Scriptures, especially when we face awe-inspiring (or awful) circumstances.

While it is shaky ground to look at the Bible as a handbook of saying that make us feel better about the world, there are certainly times when we need this reassurance of God’s command: Do not be afraid.

When the world is shaking?

Do not be afraid.

When our lives are disrupted and uncertain?

Do not be afraid.

When we are at the end of our rope and feel like it’s all going to fall apart.

Do not be afraid.

There’s clearly some dissonance between this command and what it is truly like to experience our day-to-day lives.

While we may not live in constant fear of war or violence, we are quick to see that we have much to be concerned about, much to wonder at, much to fear, in terms of the unknown, the unsafe, the unscripted and uncontrolled parts of our lives.

Do not be afraid?

Well that’s a nice idea, but do you know what it is like to experience the world each day?

Let’s put this into the specific social and personal context of our Scripture today, an encounter between Mary and the messenger of God, certainly an exchange that brought about great fear and trembling for the young girl who was told she would bear the child of the Most High God.

Think about what Mary has to fear.

She is not married, and therefore a child born to her outside of the protections of marriage would impact her world from every side.

She could be banished for infidelity, punished, beaten, perhaps even killed.

Or what of the confusion this would cause with her betrothed partner, Joseph.

How would they reconcile this reality?

This social pressures aside, think also of the fear and awe that comes from the realization that you are going to have a child.

I cannot speak to the experience being a mother who carried a child in me, but I can understand what it’s like to know that you are going to responsible for a life of another, a vulnerable little one, and the immense complexities and concerns that come with that territory.

We celebrate the announcement of a child to be born and, we do this, in some part, to ease our worries or fears.

We call for support and community to come around us in these times of waiting and hoping for the new life to be.

We do this because it’s really hard to do it alone, isn’t it?

We fear we will be abandoned, perhaps.

And we must lean on each other through it, knowing that by the collective strength of our communities, we can do this amazing thing of being a parent.

Again, think about the parents or grandparents, family and friends, who faced the 2020 pandemic with children in their homes.

The reminder to not fear was crucial in this season…there was so much to fear.

Schooling and socializing our children while trying to work from home and stay safe?

Fear.

Wondering at what kind of world we are bringing our children up in, as war, pandemic, global climate disaster, and social upheaval made clear the cracks in the foundations of society we thought could hold us.

Do not fear.

Today we are invited to occupy this dissonant space, this space of fear, held alongside the hope of God’s promise.

In Luke’s gospel, which is written in Greek, the world used for fear is phobos.

It’s the word we get our language for phobia from.

It is fear, the felt, emotional, bodily sense of disease.

Interestingly, in contrast, the word for fear we find in this morning’s Isaiah passage has a different sense to it.

The word is yirah, which is used to imply deep reverence and awe.

This is the same Hebrew word that the wisdom teacher uses in the sayings of the Proverbs, where we hear that “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”

These differing ancient understandings and language for fear remind us that fear is a complicated emotion — it has a protective quality to it, but also a deep reverence and respect.

We find, we are invited into this kind of fear.

This sense of reverential turning towards God, a sense of awe in God’s power and new creation.

So, we are instructed “do not fear,” but also, fear in this way is a sign of deference and wonder.

Let me use one of my favorite Christmas movies as an example of this distinction.

This year, since Asher has been under the weather this past week, we have already had multiple viewings of Home Alone, Home Alone 2, and newest, Home Sweet Home Alone in our house.

In Home Alone 2, Kevin McCalister is Lost in New York.

And we see great fear, phobos, in him as he encounters the villanous theives, Harry and Marv, once again.

Or when he first meets the homeless woman in Central Park, covered by pigeons and ragged clothing.

But we also see yirah fear, or as I would describe it, deep admiration, from Kevin, when he is blessed by the generosity of the fictional Toy Store owner, Mr. Duncan.

Kevin is struck, surprised, at this man’s generosity and care for the sick and the orphaned children of the city.

It is deep reverence that our protagonist experiences as he is gifted with two turtle doves by Mr. Duncan.

So, we have these different types of fear.

Mary experiences phobos, Isaiah describes yirah.

So what do we do with the fear Mary feels in this moment and how does it connect with us?

Last week, we kicked off the season of Advent with this series, From Generation to Generation, which traces the lineage and narrative arc of Jesus’ family and story.

Last week, we heard about how some of the most unexpected people end up in the family line that leads to the birth of the Messiah.

We have Tamar and Rahab, Boaz and Josiah, Judah and Jospeh.

We remember that these are messy, complex people, too, and yet even still, God has a place in the story for them.

And God has a place in the story for us.

I wonder if we question whether we truly belong in God’s story.

If God is working out, in creation, the restoration of all things, the promise of newness and hope, then do we belong in that narrative?

How can we, with all our fears and uncertainties?

What about our doubts?

Our concerns that God is not who we say God is.

Our struggles with what restoration truly looks like and whether it is even possible.

Our fears that we have no legitimate standing in the house of God and do not belong.

A story like the announcement of the messiah’s birth to Mary helps us press in to these questions and uncertainties.

It gives us a good example of someone, perhaps like us, who faces the fear that they are not enough or could never live up to the expectations placed upon them.

Do you feel like this?

I do, often.

Do you wonder if you belong in this story, this Advent narrative?

Or is this just for perfect people?

Delusional people?

Misguided?

Inspired?

People not quite like you.

The message we are invited to hear today is simple and clear: God meets us in this fear.

There is no amount of “getting it right” or mustering up enough courage or putting on the right kind of show that makes us belong to this story.

There is no amount of climbing or journeying or penitence or service that can garner us a place in God’s narrative.

God is telling a story of being with us, close, personal, in the person of Jesus.

And God is inviting us, like Mary, to participate, to be “in it”, to meet Jesus in the here and now and particularly, in the very places we already occupy and go about our days.

We do not go out to meet God or make ourselves good enough to meet God.

God meets us.

In our fear.

In our inadequacy.

In our reverence, in our hope.

Years ago, I encountered a season of Advent that turned all of my faith and understanding of God upside down.

It was a time of great struggle in my personal and professional life.

There was so much to be uncertain about, so much to worry over.

And in seasons like this, the temptation is to get busy, make things right, solve the problems, get all the gifts in order…you know the feeling.

The thing that radically changed my understanding of God being with us was the embrace of this fear and learning to wait.