What are you afraid of? What is your biggest fear? I
think the somewhat frightening Gospel from the 1st Sunday of Advent was asking
us to turn away from our fears and look at something else... To see not with
eyes of fear and anxiety, but through the eyes of Love. Here are some thoughts
on fear and the first week of Advent. Please let me know what you think, and
how God helps you with your own fears.
“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars,
and on earth nations will be in dismay, perplexed
by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will die
of fright in anticipation of what is coming upon the world…”
--Luke 20:25-28
It seems to me a strange reading for this time of joyful anticipation, but
here at the start of Advent as most of us look forward to Christmas, the church
gives us a gospel reading about fear and anxiety and what sounds like the end
of the world. That is a very interesting liturgical choice, and one worth
pondering. Why? With everyone recovering from Thanksgiving and looking forward
to Christmas, why not choose a hopeful reading from the Nativity story?
And yet, as I have spent time with this little conundrum, I have found myself
wondering:
What am I afraid of?
And how does that fear eat away at my peace? How am I letting it take my life?
Bit by bit, moment by moment, am I too dying from fear?
More than heights, or math teachers, I think my biggest fear is rejection.
Fear of feeling unwanted, unnecessary, perhaps even unlovable. For me, a lot of
this is wrapped up in ego. Growing up, I desperately wanted to be attractive;
wanted to be one of those boys all the girls called cute or handsome. Like
Johnny Quest, or Davy Jones from the Monkees! And yet—that was not what fate or
genetics had in store for me. Two formative moments from my younger days haunt
me still: first, when I was just a scrawny little 8 year old, I was standing in
a dressing room at the Craig’s store, trying on a pair of hip-huggers, and
imagining I looked as cool as one of the Archies, I overheard the salesman say
to my mother: He's got hips like a girl. And my mother say: Yes. I
guess he does. I have never forgotten that little exchange. I wasn’t quite
sure what it meant at the time, but every time I see my own shadow I glance at
my hips. And the second is the time a college girlfriend told me I looked
better with a beard, because I didn’t have much of a chin.
I may not be able to do much about my “hips,” but I’ve kept my beard ever
since.
Even after 36 years of marriage the fear of being rejected or unwanted, still
haunts me. It’s like I am constantly waiting for someone (my wife even) to say:
Who invited you? Whatever we fear, small or large, it always feels like the end
of the world. It may just destroy our peace of mind, but even that can feel
like a mini-apocalypse.
In some ways this fear has continued to rule my life. Even without thinking
about it, I continue to live in it… Afraid to make a mistake, afraid of my own
shadow, always hoping to ingratiate myself, to demonstrate my worth… Hoping to
be noticed and to be told I'm worthy, maybe even "cute." Yet always
afraid, and always certain, what I am is never enough.
When I think about this reading, and my own fears, I begin to realize at the
heart of all fear is a lack of trust. I don’t trust gravity, so I am afraid of
mountain tops and air travel; I don’t trust numbers, so I am afraid of math
teachers; I don’t trust my own worth, so I am afraid of rejection. I don’t
trust the love of God… so I am afraid…
But Jesus has an answer to this, to the problem of fear. Actually, Jesus is the
answer. The sacrifice of the cross is the true sign of our worth. Of God’s
love. Jesus died because—in God’s eyes-- I was worth it. You were worth it. We
–all of us—despite our failings, or maybe not despite—maybe because of… we are
worth it. We are loved. This isn’t a test. Your suffering, your sorrow, your
pain, your fear… It isn’t a test. You may be going through something terrible,
hard, even frightening, but the truth is we know how this story ends: In love.
“…when these signs begin to happen,
stand erect and raise your heads
because your redemption is at hand.” (cf. 21: 28)
But, of course, in the moment we may still be tempted to hide. We may still doubt our own worth, or whether we are up to the challenges ahead. That is part of our brokenness. And we must bring even that, our fears and our doubts, our weaknesses and our addictions, our ugliness and our emptiness and lay them before the Cross.
It isn’t easy, but then again neither is birth (ask any mother, or look at any newborn baby). But it is the only way… No haircut or make-up or new pair of hip-huggers is going to heal my own self-image. No matter how popular I may or may not be, the doubt and the self-image still haunt me. And so, instead of letting them control my life, I need to stand erect, look up –not down at my own shadow—but at the eye of the one who never looks away, the one who Created me, the one who sees all that He created and says: It is good.
There are bigger fears, I know, but the truth is that whatever fear we have, whatever fate we anxiously await, we are not alone, and whatever happens to us—we were made for this! I was not made to be another Davy Jones, I was made to be me. To live this life, to feel these fears and dream these dreams, even cry these tears, and finally to become the kind of blessing only I can be.
Whatever that looks like in the mirror, in God’s eyes it is always something beautiful to see.
