Luke 1:26-38 · The Birth of Jesus Foretold
FEAR NOT! You've Got To Be Kidding!
Luke 1:26-37
Sermon
by John E. Harnish
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It's an obvious understatement to say we live in a day of great fear. The language of "terror" has become the motivating mantra of our day. I did a Google search for the word "fear," and I came up with a fascinating site called "The Phobia List"—pages of phobias, A to Z. Everything from Alliumphobia—the fear of garlic and Lachanophobia—the fear of vegetables to Zemmiphobia—the fear of the great mole rat. It even lists Ecclesiophobia—the fear of church and, get this, Homilophobia—the fear of sermons! You can even get a poster of the "Phobia List" which will cover your entire wall.

But the most interesting note is the disclaimer at the top of the page. In big red letters, it reads: "If you are looking for a phobia name that is not on the list, sorry, but I don't have it." And then, in smaller print: "Please don't ask me about curing phobias. I'm interested in names only." [1]

We all have our own phobia list, and the list can be as fresh as the morning papers:

· Daily bad news from the auto industry, uncertainty about the state economy or personal security.

· A questionable course in Iraq with no clear sense of how long it will go on, when it will end.

· Fear of bird flu or bad weather or a bitter diagnosis from the family doctor.

Add to that, fear-mongering TV preachers and politicians who use talk of terror for political gain until the fear of terror becomes its own terror. And add to that, panic-driven newscasters who can't even give the weather without fear-filled, baited breath. It all leads to what Jane Spencer in the Wall Street Journal refers to as the "fear system" of our day. [2]

Into that maze of fear, we have the audacity to read the word of the angel to Mary: "Do not be afraid!"

The same word came to Joseph in a dream: "Don't be afraid."

The same word came to Zachariah and Elizabeth: "Fear not."

The same word will ultimately come to shepherds in a field keeping watch over their flocks by night: "Don't be afraid, for behold I bring you glad tidings of great joy which shall be to all people." The angelic greeting comes with incredible monotony throughout the Advent story, the same greeting, the same command, repeated over and over again: "Fear Not!"

And the logical, sensible, responsible, first century or twenty-first century response is: "You've got to be kidding!" 

1. The command sounds perfectly absurd. Mary had every reason to be afraid. 

Just imagine…an angel, no less, with word of an unexpected, unplanned and probably unwanted pregnancy. I realize there is a time and place for all the debates about abortion, but just for the moment, put yourself in the place of a unwed teenager who hears the word, "You're going to have a baby." Feel the emotions, the shock, the outright, incomprehensible fear. 

And of course, if Mary is listening, it's even more troubling than that. This is to be no ordinary pregnancy or ordinary baby. This baby is to be the Son of God! How would you like to take on that kind of surrogate parenting responsibility? 

And if she's still listening, this child is coming for nothing less than taking over the throne of David, challenging the powers that be, confronting the values and standards of his day, bringing in the kingdom of God. All of a sudden this angelic visitation doesn't look and sound so much like a sentimental Hallmark greeting or a Currier and Ives Christmas, it sounds like the overwhelming challenge of a lifetime. She had every right to be afraid, and so she was.

And of course, so are we.

Again, to quote Jane Spencer: "In contemporary America, the safest society in recorded history, many people feel as though they have never been more at risk." (Wall Street Journal Online, April 26, 2003) Even when you cut through all the fear-mongering rhetoric and divisive politics of our day, there is still plenty of legitimate reason for anxiety.

And yet…and yet…the message of the angel still comes. 

It is the most common command in the Bible, heard every time God's word comes to his people. From wandering Old Testament Israelites to doubting New Testament disciples, the word comes: "Fear not." 

2. "Mary, don't be afraid, because the Lord is with you." 

It's so simple...so profound. "The Lord is with you." The antidote to fear begins with faith in the God of the ages and the conviction that God is actively involved in the lives of his people, a God who is present, a God who is with us.

In one of my first sermons here, I told you that one of my favorite verses is from Paul's letter to the Romans, chapter 8, verse 38:

For we know that God works, in all things for good with those who love him who are called according to his purpose. 

Not that all "things" are good, but rather, in the midst of whatever life may bring, God is at work for good in the lives of his people.

Here's another "favorite verse" story about the old African-American farmer. He had lived his life in the poverty of hard-scrabble farming, the injustice of the Jim Crow era, the struggles for food and dignity, but every Sunday he dressed up in the old suit he owned and carried his worn-out old Bible to church with him. One day, a newly-minted, seminary-trained aspiring theologian and scholar came to visit that little country church. Seeing the old farmer's well-used Bible, he asked, "What's your favorite verse in the Bible?" The old man said, "Ah, that's easy: ‘And it came to pass.'" 

The well-educated seminary student didn't mean to be condescending when he responded: "But that isn't a complete verse. It's just an opening prepositional phrase. There must be more to it than that."

The old man smiled and said, "You see, every time trouble would come into my life, I would read, ‘And it came to pass.' Every time sorrow came into my life, I could say, ‘And it came to pass.' See, sonny, I always knew trouble didn't come to stay, it came to pass." 

A proper response to fear begins by recognizing it in all its reality, to look it square in the face, to know it for what it is, but also to know that in the end, fear does not have the last word…it only came to pass. In the end, our lives rest in the presence of an eternal God who is with us, who comes to us, who stands beside us. 

"Mary, fear not, the Lord is with thee." 

If you grew up in the kind of Methodist church I grew up in, you will remember some old hymns which are not in the current hymnal. One of those is the stirring hymn from the pen of James Russell Lowell. Scholar, lawyer, statesman, he served as ambassador to Spain and England in the 1800's. He wrote it in 1845 as a protest against the American war with Mexico: 

Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide,
In the choice of truth or falsehood for the good or evil side.

The last verse acknowledges the power of evil in his day, then gives the promise:

Though the cause of evil prosper, yet 'tis truth alone is strong,
Though her portion be a scaffold and upon the throne be wrong,
Yet that scaffold sways the future and behind the dim unknown;
Standeth God within the shadows keeping watch above his own. [3]

Faith for times of fear begins with the rock solid conviction that God is still with us, and that behind the blaring headlines and heated debates of our day, the eternal God is present, standing in the shadows, keeping watch above his own.

 "Mary, don't be afraid, the Lord is with you."

 God is still present and active in this world. 

3. Mary, don't be afraid, because God keeps his promises. 

Here is the word of hope for tomorrow, the word which helps us to see beyond the present into God's good future. Faith for a time of fear looks beyond the immediate and the present and claims the assurance of God's kingdom coming, God's promise of a future. 

Remember the story about the guy who hated his wife's cat? He just hated that cat with a vengeance, but his wife loved the cat. One day, the cat disappeared. His wife was grief-stricken, so the man put an ad in the newspaper: "$500 for information on the missing cat." His friend saw the ad and said to him: "Wow! $500 for word on the cat that you hated…that's pretty risky, isn't it?" With a sly, knowing twinkle in his eye, the man responded: "It's not so risky when you know what you know." 

We know the end of the story. Life is not so scary when you know what you know.

We know God keeps his promises and sends a Savior. 

We know Jesus comes and his name is called Emmanuel, meaning "God With Us."

We know the word has become flesh and dwelt among us full of grace and truth and we have beheld his glory, glory as of the only begotten of the Father. 

And better yet, we know God promises that one day the lion will lie down with the lamb and a little child shall lead them.

We know one day they will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks, nation will not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they study war no more.

We know that one day God's kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven; that one day every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.

Life is not so scary when you know what you know, when you know the end of the story.

Remember the closing scenes in the beautiful and well-loved musical, Fiddler on the Roof? It's yet another pogrom, another forced exodus from the little village of Anatifka. Tevia's daughters have gone their own way, the villagers are scattering, and in the midst of the sorrow and darkness of the time, a young boy turns to the old Rabbi and says, "Rabbi, wouldn't this be a good time for the Messiah to come?" And the wise old Rabbi says, "I guess we will just have to wait for him somewhere else."

That's faith…faith for times of fear. 

A faith that can face an uncertain and difficult present because of a hope for the future.

A faith which enables one to deal with today because of an assurance of tomorrow.

When I first went to Ann Arbor, Michael Lindvall was pastor of First Presbyterian Church. He is now serving Brick Presbyterian Church in New York. He wrote two novels about a small town Presbyterian pastor named the Rev. David Battles, The Good News from North Haven and Leaving North Haven.

Dave had served this small church for ten years when he accepted a new call to another town. The population of North Haven had declined; the church could no longer afford a full-time pastor and would probably have to merge with the also-declining Methodists in town when Dave left. Everyone's future was uncertain—the pastor's, the church's, the people's—and they all knew it. 

On his last Sunday, David baptized his first granddaughter in the little church. Old Minnie and Angus, two of his closest friends, were unable to be there. Minnie had been sick numerous times and had thought she was dying more than once, but this time it was the real thing. On their way home from church, they took the baby to see Angus and Minnie.

His daughter, Annie, carried the baby up to Minnie in her bed. He writes: 

Annie laid the baby into the old woman's eager arms. The baby was waking and starting to wail. Minnie folded her arms around the child, still resplendent in her christening gown. "There, there," I heard Minnie say. The baby stilled and Minnie looked into her eyes and said, "There's nothing to be afraid of." Then she looked from the baby to the mother and said, "There isn't...really." 

The pastor goes on…. 

Two weeks later as I looked down from the pulpit over Minnie's casket, I thought, Is there really nothing to be afraid of? Have all the mothers who ever cooed those words to their sleepless babies been telling lies?

Minnie, it occurred to me, had not been afraid, but not because there was nothing to be afraid of. There is so much to be afraid of. The truth, and Minnie knew it, is more subtle. There is plenty to be afraid of, but in spite of it, you don't have to be afraid.

To the shepherds, the angels sang, "Do not be afraid." To the women at the tomb, the angel said, "Do not be afraid."

Do not be afraid, not because there is nothing fearsome. Do not be afraid because the fearsome things do not have the last word." [4]

In this day, a day of great fear, hear the word of the angel. Don't be afraid, not because there is nothing to fear, but because God is present, the Lord is with you. Don't be afraid, because the Savior will come, God keeps his promises, and in the end, the fearsome things do not have the last word. 

Mary, fear not….the Lord is with you.

Mary, fear not…the Savior will come.

Notes: The James Russell Lowell hymn was dropped from the new edition of the United Methodist Hymnal for a variety of reasons, but those of us "of a certain age" remember it as one of those hymns which stirred our spirits. The full text reads: 

Once to every man and nation, comes the moment to decide,
In the strife of truth with falsehood, for the good or evil side;
Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight,
And the choice goes by forever, twixt that darkness and that light.

Then to side with truth is noble, when we share her wretched crust,
Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and tis prosperous to be just;
Then it is the brave man chooses while the coward stands aside,
Till the multitude make virtue of the faith they had denied.

By the light of burning martyrs, Christ, thy bleeding feet we track,
Toiling up new Calvaries ever, with the cross that turns not back;
New occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient good uncouth;
They must upward still and onward, who would keep abreast of truth.

Though the cause of evil prosper, yet tis truth alone is strong;
Though her portion be a scaffold, and upon the throne be wrong:
Yet that scaffold sways the future, and behind the dim unknown,
Standeth God within the shadow keeping watch above his own.

If you would like to know more about Rev. Dr. Michael Lindvall and his writings, check out www.brickchurch.org, or you can find his books at www.amazon.com or www.alibris.com.


1. http:www.phobialist.com

2. Wall Street Journal Online, April 26, 2003

3. U.M. Hymnal, 1964, page 242

4. Michael Lindvall, Leaving North Haven, page 232

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Collected Sermons, by John E. Harnish