“Do not be afraid…” Some thoughts on fear and the security of the law

 

 “…do not be afraid…” Matthew 1:20

 

How many times have I read this section of Matthew, these first two chapters that are so familiar from Christmas readings and church services?  They are so familiar that I hardly pay attention to them anymore. If I am reading the Bible, I tend to skim over them. Who needs another list of begats and begottens? We all know what happens. Mary gets pregnant. Jesus is born. The shepherds and the Wise Guys notice.  And then Herod gets mad and bad stuff happens. 

 Some things, some stories, some truths, some people, seem so familiar that we hardly notice them.  We begin to take them for granted. They can’t surprise us anymore (we think).  We put a label on them and file them away and stop paying attention. He’s my sports friend.  She likes to read. Math is hard. Cats are evil. (And so is okra.)  It makes life easier (we think). 

Or do we?

And so here I am once again reading the Nativity story and thinking: Yada Yada Yada… Yeah. I know. Let’s get to the good part.  But then suddenly I hear a voice in my head saying:  Isn’t it interesting that this version (Matthew’s) focuses on Joseph more than Mary[1]?  Hmmm.  That’s right.  I wonder if I ever noticed that before? 

 And then I saw those words:

… the angel of the Lord appeared to him and
said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid
to take Mary home as your wife…’

 And I wondered, why did the angel say that? Why tell him not to be afraid?  If we look at the context—something I always remind my students to do—we see that Joseph was about to divorce Mary.  My translation says, “Joseph, being an upright man and wanting to spare her disgrace, decided to divorce her informally.”(Mt 1:19)

 Basically, Joseph was following the law. He was being compassionate and merciful about it; he could have had her taken outside of the town and stoned to death. But, instead he was going to quietly and without public display abandon her.  It was the right thing to do.  Yes, it would spare her disgrace, but what about him? It would also spare him the disgrace of becoming a cuckold; married to an adulteress and raising another man’s child.  What would that do to his public standing? What would that do to his reputation? His carpentry business? That was too much! He couldn’t risk it.

 And perhaps that is why the angel says: Don’t be afraid.

 Fear not. Don’t be afraid.  That is a constant refrain in scripture.  God is constantly reminding us not to be afraid.

 Not because bad things won’t happen. Not because Faith makes us immune to sorrows and hardships. But, because regardless of what happens—God is with us. And truly, that is all that matters!

So, even when the hurricane comes (or two of them at the same time), even when the flood waters rise, even when your fiancé suddenly shows up pregnant—don’t be afraid.  Be secure in God’s love.

 Joseph isn’t doing anything wrong. In fact, he is going above and beyond the call of duty by intending to divorce Mary quietly. So, why is he sent this message: Do not be afraid?

 Is it because too often when we turn to the law or rules to defend our position, we are searching for something that isn’t there: stability, safety, security.  We are acting not out of love, not out of faith, but out of fear? 

 Even if we are trying to do the right thing, are we holding back? Are we hiding behind the law to avoid doing the harder thing? Protecting ourselves by hiding behind the law? Protecting ourselves from gossip? From scandal? From discomfort or hardship?

 But, like Joseph, are we actually only protecting ourselves from God’s grace? From letting ourselves fall completely into His hands?  From giving ourselves fully to His beautiful, mysterious, loving plan?   

And is the real problem here simply that we think we know how this story goes? So we don’t bother to pay attention to the truth.   That God is in charge.  What are we afraid of?

 Open your eyes. Pay attention to the voice that whispers in your ear: Be not afraid. God is calling you, and His plans are much bigger and much better than anything you could imagine.

 Do not be afraid.  

 

   

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[1] The Nativity of Luke focuses almost completely on Mary (annunciation, visitation, presentation, storing things up in her heart), while the Nativity of Matthew focuses almost solely on Joseph (and his dreams).  I don’t know why, but—there you go.

The law and the widow’s mite

11 Nov 2018

 “The people were all in tears

as they listened to the words of the law...”

--Nehemiah 8:9b

“As [Elijah] arrived at the entrance of the city

a widow was gathering sticks; he called

out to her: Please bring me a small

cupful of water...” –1 Kings 17: 10-16

“I tell you the truth, this poor widow

has put more into the offering box than all the

others. For they all gave out of their wealth.

But she, out of her poverty,

put in all that she had...”

--Mark 12:43-44

In my last post, I was contemplating the people and their tears (from Nehemiah). And this week, as I waited to go to confession, I was still thinking about that passage, about those people and their tears. But, standing in the line for confession, I found myself watching the Quinceanera families stage their pictures in the church and over by the baptismal font instead of contemplating my sins.  So, I took out my Magnificat and tried to focus my thoughts on something other than the astonishing dresses and tuxedos and the abundance of bolo ties.  Opening it, I turned to the Gospel for this Sunday and read  the story of the widow’s mite.  I have always liked this story; it has the wonderful Cinderella appeal of an unknown impoverished woman suddenly coming to prominence; her tiny --almost meaningless-- offering singled out for praise.  See! See her; the one with the two pennies.  She is giving more than all the rest.  I think it appeals to the inner child in me who still remembers a time when all I had were two pennies and thought it was a lot (I loved gumball machines).  And it still speaks to me today when I worry that I have so little give. And I don’t mean just money.  When I look around and see the other teachers at my school doing so many extra duties –coaching, heading up clubs, going on field trips, I feel a pang of guilt, of inadequacy, a sense of my own insufficiency, not measuring up. 

And then I realized—that is often how I feel when I think of “the Law.” I think about those regulations and restrictions and punishments and feel a sense of dread and insufficiency.  I am unable to meet that mark, to measure up to those expectations.  I am a disappointment, to myself and to God (and possibly to my principal too, though she hasn’t come out and said it).  When I look at the Law as a set of benchmarks that I need to meet to be considered “good,” then I find myself wallowing in self-doubt and dread and fear. I dwell in the certainty of my own failure; anxious about my next slip up –my next misstep or moment of weakness; gossiping over coffee about a co-worker, whining about a student on the way home in the car, hiding in the garage and eating all the doughnuts –so my family won’t know... You know, just the ordinary stuff.

But in this story of the widow and her mite, we get a different view; to some extent, we get a God’s eye view of living the Law.  In the story from Mark, Jesus is watching the people put their offerings into the treasury –something that is commanded by the Law. As the crowd puts money in, Mark notes that some rich people put in large amounts, but then comes this poor widow with her two small (almost worthless) coins. And it is her that Jesus singles out as having put in “more than all the others.” 

The rich people putting in their large sums are fulfilling the letter of the law –even quite possibly giving more than is required.  Metaphorically they are the expectations we measure ourselves against; they are the human measure of success.   Those large donations of theirs will pay for a new science building or a new sports stadium. They are the kinds of donations remembered with names engraved in stone or up in lights...

And yet, Jesus reveals something about how God sees the Law when He singles out the widow and the gift of her two pennies as worth more because out of her poverty she contributed all she had. 

From the human point of view it is very easy to look at the Law as a game of numbers; boxes we check off for and against.  Done this, done this, done this, not that... Good Lord, I’ve never even imagined doing that! Oh my! Don that so many times I’ve lost count...  Tithed -check! DSF—check! Raffle tickets –check! It’s all numbers—sums (both large and small).  

But from God’s point of view it’s not about the numbers –not about how many or how few laws we break, or keep; not about how well we measure up to some cosmic or karmic or spiritual regulation –it’s not about perfect attendance at mass or how much we put in the weekly envelope.  Perhaps the Law of God really only asks one thing—everything! That’s all.  And perhaps the value of our gift is measured not by how much we put in, but how much we hold back. 

From the outside, from the human side, the Law of God can look ominous and daunting. There are 613 laws in the Old Testament cannon; 365 prohibitions (thou shalt nots) and 248 positive commandments.  And yes, one might weep at the thought of so many laws, and so many opportunities to fail, and some of the people in that story from Nehemiah may have wept out of fear or dread... but I wonder if –in that crowd there in Jerusalem, listening to the Law—there wasn’t at least one poor widow standing off by herself listening to the words of the Law, her face warm with tears not of anguish, but of joy, because she understood exactly what the Law meant. It meant that God loved her. For her the Law was simple –in fact, it was everything.

 

A heart to understand -some more thoughts on Deuteronomy

“But until today the Lord has not given you a heart

to understand , eyes to see, ears to hear…”

–Deuteronomy 29:3

This Sunday we are having a reading from Deuteronomy, and it has given me a pause to think more about this book that I suspect is seldom read all the way through.  This Sunday at mass we will hear Moses speak of the new prophet God is sending (18:15-20).  In answer to their prayers and their fears, God is promising a new prophet (like Moses) who will speak to the people for God. Moses seems to be referring to Joshua --who will take his place leading God's people-- but this reference may also be seen Christologically as a reference to Jesus. But in the context of Deuteronomy, it begs the question: why do the people need a human leader if they have God? And the Deuteronomical answer seems to be: Because God is too much. They have seen His terrible fire and heard His fearful voice from the mountain, and they want an interlocutor. Someone to stand between them and God and speak to them for God (for their own protection).  Fearing for their lives, they have even prayed God will spare them His presence:

“Never let me hear the voice of the Lord my God

or see His great fire again, or I shall die” (18:16).

But why? According to the story, God has just guided (or driven) His people through the desert wilderness for 40 years, protecting them, miraculously providing food and water (even from a rock) and yet they are afraid of Him. Because –they seem to sense—that even now their eyes are not ready for such a vision and their ears unprepared for such a voice.  They need something a little less awesome, something/someone a little more familiar; Moses is about to die and they are afraid to be left alone with God. That is the kind of writing that interests me. If this were fiction, we would be astonished at the imaginative power of such a writer.  But, we maintain that it is not fiction; it is (on some historical, spiritual, theological level) the absolute truth.  Wow.  What an odd book.

And here I am thinking about it on a Saturday morning as I finish my cold coffee and last crust of burnt toast, and wondering myself whether I yet have eyes to see or hears to hear, a heart to understand.

This question of the eyes and the ears and the heart, it fascinates me.  It seems, on one level, as Moses hands the people off to Joshua, that he is saying to them: you weren’t ready before, because “until today” you didn’t have the ears or eyes or heart, but now…  And that made me wonder what Moses might be referring to. What is it that possibly has changed that might make the people better prepared for the presence of God?  And it occurred to me, what is this whole book about: the law. God’s law.

Is it possible that God is saying that with the law we have eyes to see, ears to hear, a heart to understand, but without it we are blind, deaf and ignorant?  That the reason the law is so important to God and His prophets is that it is through the law that our eyes and ears will be opened.  This vision of the law – not as something restrictive, imposing burdens on us, but as a gift to help us prepare for the presence of God; as a kind of practice or exercise to get us in shape for that big day when we stand before Him. That is how I have come to see God’s law. I think that is what I am learning from reading these texts and listening to their fearful and glorious message.  

There is another interesting passage in chapter 29 that might support this idea.  Speaking almost like a tour guide, Moses says:

“…the nations through whom we have passed. You have seen their abominations and their idols made of wood and stone, silver and gold…” (29:15-16)

            One can almost hear him saying: Remember all those exotic people and those fascinating lands we passed through on our journey? On your right see the wooden idols, on your left please note the human sacrifice of children, and Oh –look there! See, what a perfect example of an abomination all decked out in silver and gold!

            It is as if God has taken them on this 40 year journey (in which their sandals never wore out, (cf. 29:4) as a way to educate and form them into His people and until now they were blind, until now they were unable to hear or understand, but now “today” they are graduates ready to receive their diplomas from the school of God’s journey –the school of wandering—and their diploma is the law.

            But, like many graduates, the chosen people (after 40 years, you’d think they’d have Ph.Ds) still feel anxious and unprepared for what lies ahead… "Until today" they were not ready…
            As for me, even this morning, I’m still not so sure. But I do know this –I want to keep reading.  And I want to get ready.