"Be Not Afraid"
Jean Chagnon
Sunday, August 12th 2007

I have a long and difficult relationship with fear. As I child I saw myself as fearless. I was the leader of my gang which often consisted of only my brother and me however I took us everywhere without worries. I would take us no handed on my bike down the big hill in town never thinking we could fall and get hurt. Or get us so far up a tree it was hard to figure out how to get down. I went survival camping with a shovel, a girl scout jackknife, and a pack of matches. I’m sure I was often heard to say “don’t worry it’ll be fine”. So my relationship with fear began in that I appeared to have none. This sense of myself as fearless stayed with me well into my twenties.

Then during graduate school my relationship with fear took a dramatic turn as I found myself feeling terrified most of the time as I worked through being a survivor of trauma. I was afraid to go to bed at night. I would sleep on my short love seat hoping to avoid terrifying nightmares. I was afraid to get up in the morning. I would be walking down the sidewalk on campus and feel this overwhelming sense of panic and virtually run to my car and speed home where I felt a little bit safer, if I didn’t sleep. I felt completely and totally consumed and controlled by fear. At some point I found myself with a deep sense of brokenness wondering “how did I go from fearless to terrified” and even more profoundly “will I ever be fearless again?”

Given my long and complex relationship with fear, it is not surprising that the opening verse of our gospel reading “Do not be afraid” is the one that kept jumping out at me as I meditated on the readings in preparation for this reflection. I would be dishonest however if I did not say that I searched really hard for something else that spoke to me from the readings. There are nuggets about faith about what is expected of us who are gifted about how our heart carries our treasure. I basically searched for something else that spoke to me because, while the verse “do not be afraid” kept jumping out at me, so did my reaction “what a ridiculous thing to say”. I find this instruction “do not be afraid” a somewhat difficult credo because fear is an important feeling in our life. Fear gives us information about when we feel unsafe and/or when things are dangerous. So to never be afraid would be to eliminate this source of information in our life which in fact would not be wise.

Then all of sudden I realized - the challenge is how we define what is dangerous. As a kid I did not define anything as dangerous and was therefore fearless. Now by the grace of God I managed to stay out of the really dangerous stuff – sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll. On the other hand, during graduate school everything and everybody felt dangerous and therefore I was fearful all of the time. Again, by the grace of God, friends and professionals helped me transform or redefine what I saw as dangerous in my life without returning to my previous nothing is dangerous motto and therefore I am able to live with both a general sense of calm and safety.

This is in fact what I believe Jesus calls us to do – transform and redefine who and what we see as dangerous in our world so that we will not be afraid. Or maybe more accurately so that we will not act or move from our fear. And Jesus calls us to do this because fear almost never lives compatibly with right relationship, compassion and justice.

This process of transforming and redefining who and what is dangerous is however a somewhat daunting task for at least two reasons. First, we live in a world with easy and ready definitions of who is dangerous – the mentally ill, immigrants, the homeless, Muslims, etc. etc. etc. Jesus calls us to fight against our readiness to say those who are different are dangerous. He calls us to treat those who are different without fear which makes room for right relationship as well as acts of compassion and justice. Secondly transforming and redefining who and what is dangerous is difficult because it requires of us the deep and painful work of healing our brokenness and forgiving those who have frightened us or continue to frighten us.

It so happens that my life’s work is about the sacred task of creating the space that individuals need to feel safe enough to engage in this second kind of transformation and redefinition – the deep and painful work of healing from experiences that have left them feeling afraid and broken. Sometimes their fears are similar to mine as survivors of trauma, and many times their fears are dramatically different. In all cases their fears limit their ability to be in genuine and authentic relationships with themselves and those in the world around them. I struggle daily to walk with people through the difficult and painful task of healing so that they can redefine and transform definitions of danger thereby living from their heart not their fear, without leaving these individuals susceptible to additional trauma or unsafe situations. I struggle daily with this task both because it is difficult work and because I continually find myself needing to confront my more subtle definitions of what is dangerous in the forms of judgments, limits, insecurities, etc. etc. Only in continuing to confront my dangers am I able to stay in right relationship with myself, my clients, my profession, and the world around me.

If I had another whole reflection, I would talk more about how this interdependent process of sitting with individuals and groups in ways that promote healing while continually being open to transforming our own pain is, I believe, a wonderful model for leadership - a model that the hymn “The Servant Song” articulates so very well. This song calls us to a model of leadership where we are both servant and served, healer and healed, pilgrim and guide. Leadership such as this is, I believe, transformative in that it promotes right relationship as well as acts of compassion and justice – again allowing us to lead with our heart not from our fear. The model does however require of us the deep and painful work of healing our hurts and fears.

I believe that opportunities for just such leadership present themselves to us as a parish in the context of our relationship with the broader church. Specifically, transitions within the diocese and pronouncements from the Vatican leave many of us angry and/or scared. Moreover for some of us it hits tender spots or reopens wounds that we have received in the context of our relationship with the church. My challenge to each of us individually and to all of us collectively is to remain open to the pain of healing in ways that allow us to transform and redefine what is dangerous while still be a strong voice for justice, compassion, and right relationship. I hope the parish council is able to provide this type of leadership within the parish over the next year and I hope the St. Joan of Arc community is able to provide this type of leadership within the broader church.

In closing, from the song “The Servant Song” – I will hold the Christ light for you in the nighttime of your fear; I will hold my hand out to you, Speak the peace you long to hear. This verse profoundly shapes my work as I psychotherapist, I hope it shapes my work this year in the parish council and our work as a community. Come journey with me and let’s not be afraid. Amen.