Sunday Summer Eucharist 9:00 a.m. - Music & Live Stream
Sunday Summer Eucharist 9:00 a.m. - Music & Live Stream
Christ the King-Epiphany Church, Wilbraham
The Rev. Martha S. Sipe
August 10, 2025 / Ninth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 19C
Genesis 15:1-6; Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16; Luke 12:32-40
“Do not be afraid,” the Lord says to Abraham. Abraham, who is featured in both the first and second lessons, lived in a world where the only hope of survival was to live on through one’s children – and he didn’t have any. But the Lord reassured him with the promise that he would have more descendants than there are stars in the sky.
“Do not be afraid,” Jesus says to his followers. Earlier in this same chapter, as we heard last week, Jesus has told them that they don’t need to worry about what they need in this life. Now he follows up with the promise that our Father intends to give us not just the things we need in this life, but also the kingdom.
These promises would have been hard to believe: hard for Abraham to believe that he would be the father of a great nation, as he was very old and married to a woman who was unable to have children; hard for Jesus’ followers to believe in God’s abundance while living in Galilee, a poor and powerless little country under Roman rule. So we’re in good company, then, if we admit that the promises of God for abundant and everlasting life are a little hard for us to believe when our economy is so volatile and the future seems murkier all the time. Such assurances are hard to trust when the threats to our personal happiness are so clear and present: changing relationships, changing circumstances, illness, and even death – these things could easily make us fearful and keep us awake at night.
And yet still, the word of the Lord came to Abraham, and the word of the Lord came from Jesus to us: “Do not be afraid.” Do not be afraid.
I offered a service of holy communion for the residents over at Vantage in Hampden this week, as I do every other month. I don’t really preach at these services since many of the residents have cognitive deficits. But I do generally try to engage the group in some conversation about the lessons. I read this week’s lesson from Genesis and part of today’s Gospel lesson, and I pointed out to them, as I have to you, that both of them share the comforting words: Do not be afraid. I asked them to repeat those words back to me – which they did – and I told them that I believe that those four words are some of the most beautiful words in scripture. Then I asked them, “What makes you afraid?” Since many of them have short-term memory loss, I expected them to mention fears from their childhood: like being afraid of the dark or of being alone. From those whose memories are more intact, I expected answers like “I’m afraid of falling,” or “I’m afraid that my family will forget me.” But what I was not expecting was the very first answer that was offered. A woman who was sitting off to the side, and who just moments before had been nodding off to sleep, looked up when I asked, “What are you afraid of?” and, without hesitation, she looked me in the eye and said: death. I replied with conviction, and I hope, compassion: “Even in the face of death, Jesus tells us, ‘Do not be afraid.’” She said, “Easy for him to say.” Her directness almost made me chuckle. It’s a line that, delivered say on a TV sitcom, would have gotten laughs. But coming from a real person with real fears . . . I felt her pain.
This poor woman spoke a truth that may be too painful for us to articulate: not just the fear of death, but also the more basic question – does Jesus really understand what we’re afraid of? Is he out of touch with our reality? Do not be afraid – yeah, easy for you to say, Jesus. But haven’t you noticed that the world is on fire?
But I would say that Jesus isn’t out of touch. In his humanness, he very much understands our pain and our anxiety. He’s just in touch with a different reality – the reality of faith. Now “the reality of faith” sounds like an oxymoron, doesn’t it? The author of the letter to the Hebrews says that faith is the assurance of things hoped for, and the conviction of things not seen. But just because you don’t have what you hope for yet doesn’t mean it’s not a real possibility. And just because there are things you can’t see or explain doesn’t mean that they’re not real.
After all, the promises to Abraham were real enough to him that he set out by faith, not knowing where he was going. And isn’t that what we do every single day of our lives? When we get up in the morning, sometimes we have a pretty good idea what kind of challenges we’re going to face – but sometimes we don’t. Sometimes we just don’t have a clue about the threats or dangers or changes of fortune we will encounter during the day. But we still get out of bed. And as Christians, we can get out of bed and face the day with courage, knowing that Jesus is with us, believing that God does love us, trusting that God really does want to give us the kingdom because we are cherished members of the flock.
And so we live boldly. And perhaps it’s that bold kind of living that Jesus envisions when he follows up his words, “Do not be afraid,” with the admonition to sell our possession and give alms. Now I know that feels like a jump. Just when we’re getting our heads and hearts around the idea that we don’t have to be afraid, Jesus goes and tells us to do something that instantly puts fear back into our hearts! Sell our possessions? Give alms? But before you let yourself get fearful all over again, try to stay with Jesus’ comforting promise – that the Father wants to give us the kingdom – because I think that Jesus’ command to give generously grows out of that promise, especially as we’ve read it here in Luke’s gospel. Here’s what I mean: in other places in scripture, Jesus tells us to sell our possessions and give alms for the benefit of the poor, the orphan, the widow, and all the other down-and-outs. But here in this passage, following his gentle words to have no fear, it seems like he’s telling us to sell our possessions and give alms for our own benefit, because of what living in faith and trust does for us! It’s not that giving generously to charitable causes doesn’t help other people – of course it does. But it also helps us. Because giving makes our faith real. Letting go of a part of what makes us feel secure helps us to see that our real security is not in bank accounts or possessions, but in the promises of heaven. Letting go of the things that we cling to the most tightly confirms our faith, erases our fear, and makes us bolder still because in so doing, we discover that God can be trusted.
Now living boldly in faith isn’t always an easy thing to do. Perhaps it’s never easy to do. But on those days when it’s harder to trust, then we have each other. That’s what the church is for. We lean on each other. We support each other. I think we sometimes even believe for each other. Because together, our faith is always strong. Together we can face whatever changes and challenges come our way. Together we can give of our resources in ways that grow the kingdom of God and our faith, as well.
Just as God invited Abraham to a life of adventure, just as Jesus invited his followers to let go of their security and trust in the one who wants to give us every good thing, so he invites us, saying, “Don’t be afraid, little flock.” Live. Truly live. And in your living, give life to the world around you.