Andy James

wandering the web since 1997

Presbyterian minister in Atlanta.
Music lover.
Found beer in seminary.

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Mary: Casting Aside Fear

December 13, 2015 By Andy James

a sermon on Luke 1:26-55
preached on December 13, 2015, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

It had begun as an ordinary day in an ordinary town in Palestine for an ordinary hometown girl Mary, but by the time it was over everything was different for everyone. In the midst of this ordinary day, the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and gave her the surprise of a lifetime. She had to have been startled and afraid, to say the least. What did God want to do with her anyway? She was just a young girl, waiting for her day to come as she would move into full adulthood upon her marriage to Joseph, preparing for the journey of life that seemed to be clear before her—but not yet begun—in marriage and childbearing, watching for something new to take hold in her own world and in the world around her.

But the angel Gabriel explained that God could and would do amazing things in and through her. First, he assured Mary that there was nothing to fear in this surprising visit. She had “found favor with God” and would “conceive in [her] womb and bear a son,” who would “be great, and… called the Son of the Most High.” Even her virginity would not get in the way of all this, for she would bear this holy child by the power of the Holy Spirit. After all this, just to make it abundantly clear, he closed by assuring her, “Nothing will be impossible with God.” Mary responded with confidence beyond her young age: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” As the angel left her, she returned to her day, her life forever changed by this encounter on this ordinary day.

The days that change us usually start out looking pretty ordinary, too. Whether things change for the better or the worse, there is strangely little that distinguishes days of great change for us from others at first. The day we get a new job offer, the day we learn of the death of a good friend, the day the world around us seems to break down in yet another way—all these days begin in the same way even though they end with incredible shifts of life to bring us hope or cause us despair.

While our ordinary days are rarely if ever marked with the sort of direct encounter with an angel of the Lord as Mary experienced, we might find God in our midst in unexpected ways on our ordinary days. Maybe we will receive a surprising possibility that offers us a new and different way for the days ahead. Maybe a crisis will come that leaves us seeking God’s presence and hope as we respond. Or maybe our hopes and expectations for life have been upended, with no clear understandings of different possibilities for the days ahead even as we are challenged to set aside our fears and live in hope.

Amid all these unexpected encounters with God, the angel’s words to Mary should echo in our lives, too. The angel’s confident words “do not be afraid” and “nothing will be impossible with God” are addressed to us, too. In these fearful days, when even the most ordinary days seem filled with the possibilities of terror, when we wonder when, not if, when we will be victims of some dramatic tragedy, when we learn about disaster and crisis in every corner of the world almost instantaneously, when we are so easily turned against our common humanity because of our fears of things that are different or beyond our comprehension, when even the hopeful things of our lives can lead us to live in fear, the angel’s words to Mary should give us comfort. We do not have to be paralyzed by uncertainty, torn apart by anxiety, forced to live in fear and paranoia, or left wondering what will happen to us. In the light of Mary’s encounter with the angel, we can instead be confident that God’s presence will sustain us on our ordinary and extraordinary days. Even the transformation that we so desperately need and that seems so impossible to attain will not be impossible with God.

Mary’s changed life continued as she set out to meet her cousin Elizabeth. The angel had told her that Elizabeth was also experiencing the unexpected gift of a child, and so she set out to share these days with her relative. When she arrived, their joyous meeting reflected the new ordinary for both of them. They were filled with hope and wonder at the new lives that they were bearing into the world, and there was something incredible about sharing it together.

As their joy and hope met, they both broke into song. Elizabeth celebrated the gift of encountering this woman who would bear such a life into the world. Her son, still in her womb, leaped for joy as soon as Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, and they were all filled with the blessing of God as they shared this time.

Then Mary offered up her own words of praise in the incredible words that have come to be known as the Magnificat. Her rejoicing was directly addressed to God who made all these things possible, who lifted up this lowly, ordinary servant, showered great blessing upon her, and showed the wonder of God’s name in these acts. She rejoiced that God was doing a new thing in and through her to transform the world, showing strength and power and might over against the seemingly powerful persons of the world, lifting up the lowly, filling the hungry, sending the rich away empty, and helping God’s people by showing the depths of mercy and hope from generation to generation.

We can know these depths of mercy and hope in our own generation, too. We can walk together with our sisters and brothers in faith and life as Mary and Elizabeth did to find the hope that we need in our ordinary and extraordinary days. When we are overcome by fear and uncertainty, we can come together to find support for the journey. When we are tempted to retreat to our own corners of life and separate ourselves from others, we are reminded that we are better together. And when there is cause for rejoicing in our lives, there is no better way to do it than to share such a moment with others.

We can join Elizabeth and Mary in songs of praise to God of our own. When our world leaves us wondering how we might begin to offer thanks, we can still offer our cries for a different way. When we cry out in this way for God’s transformation to take hold, we praise God for the ways in which things have changed before and show the depth of our faith and hope that these things can and will take place again. And as our experiences bring songs of praise, we join our voices with Elizabeth and Mary and so many other generations, celebrating the ways that God has been at work in our midst even as we look for all things to be possible in God’s gift of the days ahead and work to set aside our fears so that we can fully participate in God’s new creation as it comes into our midst.

So as we journey through these Advent days, may we trust that the angel who spoke to Mary speaks also to us on our most ordinary and most extraordinary days, inviting us to set aside our fears and trust that nothing will be impossible with God, so that we might share in the wonder and hope that comes to us in the birth, life, death, resurrection, and reign of Jesus Christ until he comes again to make us and all things new. Lord, come quickly! Alleluia! Amen.

Filed Under: posts, sermons Tagged With: fear, joy, Luke 1.26-55, Mary

Don’t Be Afraid?

July 7, 2013 By Andy James

a sermon on 2 Kings 5:1-14
preached on July 7, 2013, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

I started shaking in my boots the moment I got the news. As soon as they knew that it was him, my sentinels came and told me that the great general of Aram was on his way here. What did he want with me anyway? Aram had already occupied our fortifications, taken slaves from our land, and captured our cities, and my reputation as king is marred forever.

But the great general Naaman came to see me anyway. First he sent in his messenger with a letter from the king of Aram. It might have been meant to calm my fears, but it just left me all the more concerned: “I have sent you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy.” Cure him of his leprosy? I can’t cure anyone of anything! It had to be a trap. If I couldn’t cure this great general of his leprosy, then the whole battle would start up all over again. I was surely done—we were surely done. Israel would be overrun by Aram, our cities pillaged, our women violated, our nation ruined, our identity destroyed. I was so distraught that I tore my clothes to shreds.

Before long, though, another messenger came along. The prophet Elisha had gotten wind of what had been going on in the palace and sent over a messenger. Now Elisha and I haven’t always gotten along all that well—like most prophets, he likes to tell me things I really don’t want to hear, and like most kings, I resent his influence and interference. Why did he want to get involved with this diplomatic and military dispute anyway? He was only a man of God. He couldn’t do anything to protect me and prevent the kingdom from being attacked by Aram once again. But Elisha’s message insisted that I send this general from Aram to him, so I did. What else could I do with him anyway? If nothing else, it got this general off my back for now, but I’m still afraid of what might happen if Elisha can’t do anything for him, afraid of what will become of our kingdom if someone doesn’t intervene. Will I ever figure out the missing piece that keeps us cowering in fear? Can I overcome my fears and get us through this trying time?

Don’t be afraid.
My love is stronger,
my love is stronger than your fear.
Don’t be afraid.
My love is stronger
and I have promised,
promised to be always near.

—John L. Bell
listen online

I’ve been dealing with leprosy for so many years that  I’m not really afraid of it anymore—though most everyone else is. For me, I’m just afraid that it will end my career. In spite of my illness, I have become a mighty warrior, leading the armies of Aram to victory all across Mesopotamia, staying in favor with my master even though everyone stays at arm’s length for fear of contracting my disease. As the sores keep getting worse, I am afraid that one day I will no longer be able to do this job that I love so much, or that my work on the battlefield will be nothing more than a decoy, the guy everyone runs from because they’re afraid they’ll get what I have.

The other day, someone told someone who told me that I might find a cure for my leprosy with a prophet here in Samaria. Now I know Samaria pretty well—I led the Aramite army in battle here not all that long ago!—but I hadn’t heard of this prophet before. But at this point, I’m willing to try pretty much anything. So I went to my king and told him what I had heard, and he gave me the leave I needed to seek out this prophet. He even wrote a letter to introduce me to the king of Israel, hoping to give me safe passage and make sure that they treated me well.

So I went to the king of Israel, sent my messenger to him with the letter, and asked for his help. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with me—like many people, he seemed a bit afraid of my leprosy, but this seemed to go beyond that. It couldn’t have been easy to be nice to the commander of the army that had just defeated you and who might put you at risk again! Soon enough, though, he sent me to see this prophet who I had heard about. When I got there, though, this guy Elisha wouldn’t even come out and see me! He sent a messenger out to me, with instructions that should go bathe in the Jordan River and then I would be cured.

I was shocked. I wanted this prophet to come out to me, wave his hand over me, and cure me right then and there. But no, he wouldn’t even come see me, the great general of Aram, and then his prescription was just to send me off to bathe in the Jordan River. Have you seen the Jordan River?? Up in Aram we have mighty rivers, so I know what I am talking about when I say that there is nothing whatsoever mighty about the Jordan. It’s closer to a muddy stream than anything! If a bath in river water was all that was required to heal me of this leprosy, I could have just bathed in the river back home and avoided this whole trip altogether!

I was furious. But my servants convinced me to come here and at least give it a shot. They know that I will do anything to get rid of this disease, so why wouldn’t I do this? Why wouldn’t I just step in the water and bathe seven times like Elisha told me? It’s not just that I’m still offended that Elisha didn’t come talk to me. I guess deep down I am just a little afraid—afraid of what it says about me to humble myself like this in the muddy waters of enemy territory, afraid that this healing might actually work and leave me with no option but to acknowledge the role of the enemy in making it happen, afraid that finding healing will require me to give up some of my pride of position and my assumption that I can do it all on my own. Can I overcome my fears and bathe in these waters?

Don’t be afraid.
My love is stronger,
my love is stronger than your fear.
Don’t be afraid.
My love is stronger
and I have promised,
promised to be always near.

—John L. Bell
listen online

From the first moment the army came to town, I was afraid—afraid of being taken away from my home and my family and my friends, afraid that they might kill me as an innocent bystander in the battle, even more afraid of the horrible things that they might do to me if they let me live. While they took me away from home and made me live and work here in Aram, they can’t stop me from thinking about life back in Israel every day. I remember all the wonderful people there, all the possibility and hope, all the good things that were happening in spite of our fearful king and our inept army.

So when I found out that my master was sick, I couldn’t help but think of this prophet back in Samaria who might be able to help him. He had come to our town a couple times, suggesting that we needed to pay attention to the old stories and encouraging us to turn our focus back to God as everything else swirled around us. On top of all this, he had a reputation for helping people to find healing from the things that plagued them. So when I heard that my master was sick with leprosy, I couldn’t help but think of the prophet.

But this wasn’t really any of my business. I could get in trouble for speaking up. Would they punish me for speaking out of turn? Would they send me out into some sort of more dangerous work or worse? Despite my fears, I decided to say something to my master’s wife. When I did, she seemed quite relieved and even a little excited about this possible new cure. She hurried away just now to tell her husband. Maybe I don’t have anything to be afraid of after all. Maybe God is still with us. Maybe our God can show healing and mercy to my master too.

Don’t be afraid.
My love is stronger,
my love is stronger than your fear.
Don’t be afraid.
My love is stronger
and I have promised,
promised to be always near.

—John L. Bell
listen online

Filed Under: posts, sermons Tagged With: 2 Kings 5.1-14, fear, Naaman