Sermons

“Of Whom Shall I Be Afraid?”

I Corinthians 1:10-18; Psalm 27 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – January 22, 2017

Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words, that we be bold in seeking your will for our lives and our world. We pray in Jesus’ name, Amen.

It’s spooky sometimes how contemporary our scriptures can be. Here we are, on January 22, 2017, reading an ancient text, and it’s talking to us about fear and division. How did they know? We should note, of course, that some of those phrases in the psalm about armies encamping and such are perhaps more salient for our brothers and sisters in Aleppo or Raqqa, but there is still a lot here that applies to our own situations.

We are living in a moment, as a nation and a world, of unprecedented uncertainty. The problems before us are complex and some of them seemingly intractable, while our leadership is, to put it mildly, a bit feckless. And yet, the words the psalmist gives us are, “Of whom shall I be afraid?” The church in this country is so divided, the different ends of the spectrum look like heresy to one another. But Paul exhorts that “all of you be in agreement, … united in the same mind and the same purpose.” Disciples have tried to take this sort of admonition seriously throughout our history. Right at this moment, we’re in the middle of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, as duly noted in our denominational planning calendar. But our attempts to do so have far too often led us back to the first problem. Because of our desire for unity, we’ve become afraid, not of wars or violence, but simply of talking to one another about the things that really matter, for fear of upsetting a friend or alienating a fellow church member. When fear gets the best of us, faithfulness goes out the window.

So how can these two scripture passages offer us guidance in this difficult days? As it turns out, they both contain the same hint. In the psalm, we read in verse 8: “Come,” my heart says, “seek his face!” Your face, Lord, do I seek. In the verses from First Corinthians, Paul is explaining to the divided church there that the various ways through which they came to Christ are not the point; the thing they need to focus on is Christ himself. Christ is not divided. No one else’s name needs to be appended to our faith. Again, this is a very Disciple notion, but I’m not sure we carry it out any better than the Lutherans or the Mennonites. The point I am trying to make here is that we shy away from talking about the things that really matter – what to do about war and hunger and the housing crisis and climate change and et cetera – because we assume that would be arguing about politics, when what we really need to be doing is seeking the heart of Christ and discerning the gospel together, which would lead us to discuss these supposedly “worldly” issues. We worship an incarnate God, the creator of the heavens and the earth; of course our God is interested in the things that really matter – the issues that affect the beloved people of God – not because these issues are political, but because they’re gospel questions. We live in scary times, but scripture has a prescription for that: “Teach me your way, O Lord.”

What would it mean to live without fear? As followers of Jesus, we come to church each week, and we hear things like today’s psalm: “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?” What would it look like to really live like that? What does it even mean? A superficial reading might assume that if I’ve confessed Jesus as Lord nothing bad will ever happen to me again. But this assumption does not stand up to the evidence. There are many these days, who are responding to the shifts in our society by getting more engaged in civic life. Such engagement is rarely conflict-free. Just because we feel we’ve sought the will of God and discerned the gospel truth about a situation, that doesn’t ensure a smooth path for making what is right happen.

Some of us had the privilege of hearing Rev. Dr. William J. Barber speak this past Monday morning. Rev. Barber is probably the most prominent living Disciples preacher and a founder in the Moral Monday Movement born in North Carolina. He was telling us about how things may be getting messier, more demanding, of those of us who follow Jesus. Because he is a preacher, he was doing it with a biblical text at hand, in this case, the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego from Daniel 3. He was talking about how these three faithful Hebrews were refusing to bow down to King Nebuchadnezzar’s golden tower, choosing instead to be thrown into the fiery furnace. They were convinced that God would protect them from the flames. “But if not,” they said, they still wouldn’t bow down. “But if not,” repeated Rev. Barber. We seek God’s will. We seek God’s protection. But we cannot command it. We have to realize that sometimes that is not how it goes. We must be willing to be faithful even “if not.” What does it mean to fear nothing even when we still have to say “but if not”? Can you think of anything more Jesus-y?

“Not my will, but thine be done,” he said in the garden. It’s not like Jesus wasn’t aware of the brutality of the Roman Empire. It’s not like he didn’t know people had been plotting against him for months. ‘It would be fine with me if things didn’t go the way they currently seem like they’re probably going to go, but if not…’ “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?”

So what are we called to do in these turbulent times, as followers of Jesus? We cannot afford to have the Apollitan Christians and the Cephasite Christians and the Pauline Christians. Nor can we afford to divide ourselves more secretly by political affiliations and only speak freely when we’re with our own private tribe. If we are to be Christians, we cannot afford to fear either the future or one another. We must be able to talk with each other about the things that really matter, the problems the gospel calls us to address, the ways of being in the world that Jesus’ teachings demand of us, without fear of disrupting a sense of unity and affection that is essentially false. We cannot possibly be serious about following Jesus if we aren’t bold enough to apply the gospel to the real-life issues that are facing us as a community and a nation. When this feels like fomenting political division, we must take pains to ensure we are, first and foremost, seeking the gospel. Are we promoting policies that are good news for the poor, that bring release to the captives and sight to the blind? Are we pursuing community standards that reflect a love for our neighbors as strong as our love for our own families? God has shown us, o mortals, what is good. And in our seeking after justice and our loving of kindness, it is essential that we make sure we are walking humbly with God, lest we wander off on our own way, where the justice is more one-sided and the kindness is more narrowly targeted. The gospel refrain, over and over again, from the angels and the prophets and the psalmists, commands us: “Do not be afraid.” There is much that is fearful in our world. But the Lord is our light and our salvation. We need neither fear one another nor the future. We need only seek God and follow Jesus. We need only to stand up and insist that good news be manifested for all God’s people. If we want God to be on our side, we must place ourselves on God’s side. God will be our stronghold, and quite possibly, righteousness will prevail. But if not, faithfulness is still our calling. May our hearts be bold and our voices strong. Alleluia and Amen.