“There is no fear in love, for perfect love casts out fear.” – 1 John 4:18
Easter People!
What a joy to be on this side of the tomb—the empty tomb, that is—for Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!
And yet, even though the resurrection is where we belong—this place toward which God has been moving us all along—still it doesn’t take much for gravity to pull us back into the great ditch of FEAR.
The longer I live the more apparent it becomes that the decisions we human beings make, on all levels, both individually and collectively, are made not on the basis of faith in the God of resurrection and life, but rather on the basis of fear. Political leaders use fear as a tactic for forwarding ideological agendas; interest groups use fear to motivate their constituencies; fear of losing valued relationships keeps us from having honest conversations; fear of reprisal prevents us from sharing our true experience; fear of change leads us to dig in our heels even when that change may be the prompting of God’s Spirit. I’ve come to believe that the opposite of faith is not doubt but fear.
In each of the gospels, the first reaction of Christ’s followers to his resurrection is not joy but overwhelming fear. Whether they find themselves facing a heavenly emissary or the Lord himself, they are terrified! And the first words from divine messenger or risen Lord are: Be not afraid. Christ knows how paralyzing fear can be. He knows how, when push comes to shove, trust is often the first to go. And he knows that fear often holds controlling interest in the stock of human emotions. So it is no surprise that when Jesus speaks to his community as their risen Lord, he begins his greeting with the words, Peace be with you. Do not be afraid. As Easter people who have been marked with the cross of Christ forever, we are called to live our daily lives and our life in community in the context of a deep trust in our risen Savior.
So, what does that deep trust look like? It has many guises. Like that of a prayer shawl, blessed by the fingers and prayers of those who knit it; a shawl which now rests on the shoulders of “Georgia”—as she faces a fourth surgery on a broken leg that refuses to heal; a mantle which embodies Christ’s compassionate presence and the mystery of God’s healing power. What does that deep trust look like? Like a group of young people eagerly serving a meal to a group of homeless men at the Compass Housing Alliance, providing food for the body and conversation for the soul. What does that deep trust look like? Like a 90 year old woman who, on death’s door, tells me she’s ready to “run to Jesus.”
The First Lessons throughout the Easter season, taken from ACTS, tell again and again of how God’s agents “wrench life from death.” These powerful stories, says theologian William Willimon, are not so trivial as to be explained:
“The stories can only be told and heard, asserted, inserted into life as they are thrust into the flow of Acts…they proclaim that our history is not closed…they announce a new age, an age where reality is not based upon rigid logic or cause-effect circumstances but upon God’s promise…Every time a couple of little stories like these are faithfully told by the church, the social system of paralysis and death is rendered null and void. The church comes out and speaks the evangelical and prophetic “RISE!” and nothing is every quite the same.”[1]
Easter people—and that is what we are!—look at the world and their own experience through the lens of Christ’s resurrection. We have been liberated from the shackles of fear and that liberation makes a difference in how we view ourselves, our mission, and the world. Because of this, we are alert to signs of God’s transforming presence and responsive when God calls us to be about God’s business.
You see, when it comes to fear, God holds the trump card. God’s perfect love, enfleshed in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, casts out fear. Gets rid of it completely. Not that fear doesn’t try to creep back in. But when fear begins to exert influence on us, when we feel it slinking into our thoughts and trying to take hold of our minds and pull us back into the ditch, we recall the words of Jesus: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” And as his words of promise take hold of us, fear is once more set aside, and faith takes its place. What a privilege it is to live in that place together! Thanks be to God!
Pastor Erik
[1] William Willimon, Acts Interpretation Commentary, p. 85, 86.