1 Jn 4

I imagine, while driving around, you’ve seen on a truck or motorcycle helmet a decal that says “No Fear.” There are lots of them around, in various letter styles; many resemble the one pictured on the inside cover of our worship bulletin.

I can’t say that I’ve quite figured out what that means. Does it mean that the vehicle is driven by someone with reckless abandon? Or could it be that the driver is at utter peace with God and all creation, and therefore, has conquered fear? I would like to think so, but I doubt that’s the case!

No, I imagine that “no fear” decals are but one more of a multitude of ways in which we try to deny the fear that’s in our lives. Then again, it could be that I’m over-analyzing this whole thing!

Be that as it may, fear is a controlling factor in our lives. Last week, I said that woundedness can control us; the same is true with fear. Sometimes it hides behind other emotions, for example, anger or cynicism.

As I continue with my “Easter People” series of sermons, let me toss out this quote: “There is no place for fear in the Christian life, not because we manipulate our emotions, but because we trust our risen Lord. We choose to trust rather than to fear. We choose to let God protect us, rather than defend ourselves.”[1]

The idea that we choose to fear probably sounds strange. We might object, “I just can’t help it!”

It might be useful to distinguish between healthy and unhealthy fear. Fear of fire…fear of fifteen German Shepherds encircling you…fear of your wife—that’s healthy fear! Fear of going outside…fear of taking risks…fear that keeps you pinned down—that’s unhealthy fear!

Clearly, every person has his or her own story, and there isn’t one easy remedy, but it seems that, in some way, we do choose that latter kind of fear. Several times in the New Testament, Jesus tells his disciples, “Do not fear.” And in today’s epistle reading, we see that “there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear” (v. 18).

Much of our fear deals with being left out, with being rejected, or with being denied the material necessities of life.

Stan Wilson, pastor of Northside Baptist Church in Clinton, Mississippi, has written about that kind of fear. He says that their church “has an unwritten rule: we will never ignore a member’s basic need.”[2] Whether it’s someone out of work, someone with a medical need, or whatever, they come together and find ways to help. It may be through a benevolence fund, churchwide garage sale, or some other creative means.

During a Bible study one time, Wilson asked the people there, “Why not make it official? Why not state out loud that no matter how bad it gets, we will be there for one another?”

He says, “I didn’t get an answer at the Bible study. In fact, the very mention of the subject seemed embarrassing, as if I had violated a taboo and uttered that which must not be spoken. I suspect that not only do we fear the future, we also fear each other. We are afraid that somebody will try to take advantage of us, afraid that we will have to expose ourselves at our most intimate, private level: our bank balance.”

The author of 1 John deals with this very thing. In chapter 3, we’re asked the question: “How does God's love abide in anyone who has the world's goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action” (vv. 17-18). And in today’s reading, we’re reminded, “Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love” (v. 8).

Wilson says that he doesn’t doubt that the members of his church love each other. He just wants them to publicly proclaim it. Unfortunately, in our society, we tend to have a fear of commitment. In fact, our culture runs on fear and disordered desire. And that stuff infects the church.

But the church should be counter-cultural. He wonders, “What happens if a little congregation breaks the rules and removes the fear by promising to care for one another?” I wonder about that myself. What would happen if this little congregation broke the rules and removed the fear by promising to care for one another? What would happen?

“We might reveal the risen the Son of God, the Good Shepherd, the one who lays down his life for his sheep.

“With a living God loose in the world, we might no longer live in fear, and no longer believe that the world runs only when people look out solely for themselves. We might start to look out for one another, and violate one of the cardinal rules of our economic order.”

How can we do that? For example, how can we break the grip of what Jesus calls “Mammon”: money and possessions, that quickly become an idol, a false god? Again, there isn’t one easy remedy.

Matthew and Mark tell us of a rich young man who comes to Jesus, asking about eternal life. Drawing on the targeted advice Jesus gives him, there’s one good way to deal with Mammon. Just give it away! That helps keep wealth from invading your heart.

And here’s some friendly advice. To the extent that anyone here considers that option completely unthinkable, to the very same extent, you need to take it seriously—because it’s got a hold on you. Recall the reaction of the young man. Mark 10:22 says, “When he heard [what Jesus said], he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.”

We have to look our fears in the eye, but we have to do it with love. That is, we must do it with love if we’re to be Easter people. Otherwise, we deny the resurrection power Jesus gives us.

The story is told of St. Francis of Assisi, who “was afraid of lepers. One day he kissed a leper and the fear vanished. It is important to note that the fear vanished after he kissed the leper, not before. Before the fear left him, Francis had to take the risk of loving…

“There is a mutuality here in terms of cause and effect. It is necessary to work against fear if we are to try loving our enemies, and it is absolutely necessary to risk loving our enemies if we want to be free of fear. Like St. Francis, we need to risk acts of love before we experience feelings of love.”[3]

Why, at this point, do I bring in love of the enemy? Besides the fact that Jesus stresses the definite need for it, “love of the enemy” speaks to so much of what we fear. We too quickly think of the enemy as “out there” somewhere, like the people we see on television—or read about in the paper.

Still, we don’t interact with those people to the extent we do with enemies who are closer to home. And we can’t as immediately show love to them. Whether it’s love of enemies—or love of our brothers and sisters, as in 1 John—to Jesus, it’s all the same. Everyone needs our love.

According to our scripture reading, the remedy for fear is love. “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love” (v. 18). Earlier I asked, “What would happen if this little congregation broke the rules and removed the fear by promising to care for one another?” Why don’t we find out? Don’t worry, I won’t ask anyone to donate a kidney! (We’ll do that next week!)

I’ll just ask anyone who’s willing to come and take a slip of paper. Written on it is a simple task that demonstrates an act of love for someone here at Westminster. (There aren’t any names on the slips.) The only condition I’m requesting is a time limit. I ask that it be done before the month of May is over.

[1] Patricia McCarthy, The Scent of Jasmine (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1996), 46.

[2] Stan Wilson, “Ties that bind,” Christian Century 123:9 (2 May 06): 18.

[3] McCarthy, 60-61.