Fear Itself

June 21, 2026, First Lutheran Church, Throggs Neck, the Bronx.

When was the last time you were scared out of your wits?

And how helpful would it have been if some well-meaning person had told you, “Fear not?”

The problem with fear is that it’s a very subjective emotion and not everyone is afraid of the same thing. Some people are afraid of flying but others say the bumpier the air the more they like it. Some people are afraid of thunderstorms while others stand in awe of these spectacular spectacles of nature. Some are afraid of heights. Others climb mountains.

And if you happen to be afraid, even if your fear is illogical or silly, it won’t help if someone tells you to chill. To fear not.

Years ago our family went on the Back to the Future ride at Universal Studios in Orlando. 

We were seated side-by-side and when the lights went out the seats began to shudder and tilt. As we began to pick up speed we could feel the wind in our faces, and we descended into what appeared to be a dark pit. Prehistoric creatures appeared menacingly on the edge of the precipice, and to my horror I realized we were falling into the gaping mouth of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Behind me I could hear Katie shouting, “I don’t want to be eaten by a dinosaur” and I couldn’t have agreed more. At the last minute we diverted from the monster’s jaws but we continued our horrifying ride through the vestiges of time. When we finally stopped, the chairs stopped swaying, the wind stopped blowing, and the lights came on.

Rarely have I been so scared. As we got up to leave I angrily reminded everyone how much I hate roller coasters. 

Martha smiled and said, “This wasn’t a roller coaster.”

She added, “The seats were just vibrating, not moving forward. Didn’t you notice the Exit sign beside you never moved?”

Well, I did not notice, and neither did Katie. Both of us were completely convinced by the mediated illusion of flight. It was a psychological deception in our heads, and Katie and I were seized with great fear.

Fear can be incapacitating, and not just in the artificial thrills of amusement parks. 

We all face it: the fear of a looming big decision, the fear of financial ruin, the fear of a serious illness, fear for the safety of our children and loved ones, even – for many – the fear of making a speech. Fear is a basic human response that has been evolving in our collective psyches since our ancestors lived in caves. Fear is a survival mechanism, a universal impulse that keeps us safe from danger. Fear is a human trait that we should respect, and we should never taunt or yell “cowardly custard” at anyone who is afraid.

All of us know what it is to be afraid.

Remember in the days immediately following nine-eleven, we stopped what we were doing watched fearfully every time an airplane passed overhead?

That was a very fearful time for all of us, and it opened our mediated imaginations to terrible fears. Remember the rumor that “thousands of Muslims cheered in New Jersey” when the towers went down? It was not true, and a week after the terror attacks President George W. Bush condemned the rise of Islamophobia among certain groups:

“When we think of Islam we think of a faith that brings comfort to a billion people around the world,” the President said. “Billions of people find comfort and solace and peace.  And that’s made brothers and sisters out of every race—out of every race …Those who feel like they can intimidate our fellow (Muslim) citizens to take out their anger don’t represent the best of America, they represent the worst of humankind, and they should be ashamed of that kind of behavior.”

That was a good use of the Bully Pulpit, and I sometimes wish we could hear those truths more often from our leaders in the corridors of power.

God’s love is sufficient to overcome anything we fear. 

As a Christian who, as Luther put it, is simultaneously a sinner and saint, I am aware that my fear may make me indifferent to God’s love. It is my fear that forces my silence when a paranoid fear of the “other” compels the building of walls to prevent immigrants from crossing our national border, or detaining thousands of asylum seekers in detention camps, often separating parents from their children, because we are afraid to let people who are not like us mingle safely among us. 

Throughout our land today, thousands of people have been afraid to leave their homes, to get into their cars, to go to work, to go to the store, to go to church. To those who cheer the calls for “Mass Deportation,” the targeted people are the “others” who don’t fit in with the rest of us. And not just persons of color. My therapist is an empathic middle-aged white lady born in Ireland and she fears she may be arrested every time she visits Immigrations to complete her application for U.S. citizenship.

But for those of us who have experienced God’s infinite love, we know that these frightened people who worry about their future are our neighbors we are commanded to love. Even if our love for these neighbors will get us into trouble with the civil authorities.

Professor Danny Zacharias, a biblical scholar in Canada, in today’s reading , “Jesus repeatedly tells his disciples not to be afraid. Though they will face threats, they should not fear those who can harm the body but cannot touch the soul. Instead, they are to trust in God’s care, knowing that even the hairs on their heads are counted.”

Reading this as an Indigenous man, Zacharias continues, “I cannot help but also think of Indigenous communities throughout much of the world, but especially here on Turtle Island (North America). The church has perpetuated much harm among my people, the First Nations of Canada. Christian theology demonized our culture. Christian teachings like the Doctrine of Discovery bolstered colonial conquest and dehumanization. Christian churches helped to run Indian Residential and Boarding schools, which sought to kill the Indian in the child. It should not be hard for people to understand why there is sometimes such outright hatred toward the Christian church within Indigenous communities.”

In Canada as elsewhere in the world, seeking justice for marginalized people is often unpopular – and dangerous. In our country we have a long list of human rights leaders who overcame their fear and paid the ultimate price. Medgar Evers. Martin Luther King, Jr. And in another context, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a Lutheran scholar who gave his life speaking truth to the Third Reich. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, ‘The cross is laid on every Christian.’ Said differently, the cross cannot be bypassed on the road to discipleship, and we can’t serve Jesus if we succumb to fear.

The New Testament offers many examples of Christians who faced the consequences of discipleship.

One of my favorites was Deacon Stephen, a convert who was so zealous to win people to Jesus that he wouldn’t stop pressing his message even when it began to enrage his listeners. (Acts 6)

Sticking to one’s message takes courage.

Years ago, when I was a young magazine editor, I began receiving scores of angry letters from readers who thought the magazine was devoting too much space to social issues and too little to spiritual issues. I mentioned this to George Cornell, religion editor of the Associated Press, and asked him how he handled angry letters. George stroked his chin and said, in his Oklahoma drawl, “I tell ’em, ‘You may be right.’”

Perhaps it would have been safer for Stephen and for Dietrich Bonhoeffer to take this approach with their critics. But instead they angered them even more with arguments so smart that they knew they could not refute them. 

For most of us, and for many pastors in many traditions, the cost may not be so high.

But here’s the thing: if there is no cost at all, it is not serving Jesus.

Throughout my forty years as a reporter, editor, layperson, and guilty bystander in church circles, I’ve observed many disciples who paid large and small prices for their discipleship.

I've known more than one pastor fired from his or her congregation for taking pastoral or diaconal stands they believed to be right:

For preaching against what they believed to be this nation’s immoral war in Vietnam;

For removing the U.S. flag from the church sanctuary on the grounds that God is the God of all nations and all peoples;

For participating in Civil Rights marches;

For presiding over the marriage vows of same-sex couples;

For preaching against the ownership of powerful assault rifles.

For accompanying their undocumented neighbors to immigration hearings.

I’ve known married women pastors who have been dismissed from their congregations for getting pregnant, or for requesting a one-month leave to recuperate from a mastectomy. 

Today, in our hypertense environment, the moral questions we face cause many of us to ask whether we dare risk the cost of discipleship. Do we dare declare unequivocally:

That war and violence are always sin;

That Black Lives Matter; 

That Islam is a religion of peace;

That no person is illegal;

That no religious views should be forced upon anyone;

That everyone is entitled to express their sexuality in their own way without social prejudice or government imposition. 

That God is love;

And the greatest commandment is always to love one another as we love ourselves.

 “Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me,” Jesus reminds us

“This is a tough pill to swallow, especially in the modern day when comfort, convenience, and safety are so highly prized. And the final verse offers a paradox: ‘Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it,’” Zacharias concludes.

“This teaching calls believers to release their grip on self-preservation and embrace the deeper life found in Christ. We will find abundance in life if we take up the life of Christ. True life is found not in accumulation or personal achievement but in living in right relationship with Creator, with community, and with creation. Jesus’s words invite his followers into this reality—where life is defined not by status or security but by faithfulness to God’s call.”