Has anyone else been following Doonesbury in the comic section? Garry Trudeau has reintroduced Mr. Fear as a friend of the President and the GOP at a press conference. Just a few weeks left in the election and Mr. Fear promises to work 24-7 in order to get his anxious message of fear across. One reporter asks if his wife will be joining him and Mr. Fear says, “Terror? No, that would be a conflict of interest.”

Later in the week Trudeau made the same connection that I have pointed out about fear blocking brain function. He doesn’t use the same words exactly. He says: “You, as fear itself, are unreasoning.” and then Mr. Fear agrees and  points out that 3,000 people died on 9-11 but since then 150,000 Americans have been killed by guns, but we don’t spend billions of dollars to prevent  gun violence because we are more afraid of terrorists. “Without faulty risk assessment, I got nothin’” Mr.Fear states.

I think Gary Trudeau is right on point. In more ways than one. First, it is helpful to have the manipulation of fear pointed out: to mirror for us what most of us all know has been happening.  In addition, humor is one way of breaking out of ‘reptilian regression’ or ‘unreasoning’ – whatever one chooses to call blocked brain function. One of the problem with unreasoning is that we can’t really reason our way out of it. It’s a Catch-22.

 It is like being trapped in a darkened room. Laughter is a ray of light that allows us to see the exits.  When we laugh, we can then access our higher brain functions, and our ability to solve problems creatively. We can quit re-acting and reason again.

I’ve been thinking this week about the culture of fear in which we live and move and have our being.

I’ve been thinking about all the different forms and names it takes. Fear lurks at the bottom of so many things. It seems to be the perfect soil for growing seeds of discontent.

Greed comes from the fear of not having enough. Perfectionism is grounded in the fear of not being good enough. Sadly, there are many for whom religion is actually lamb’s clothing for fear: fear of not going to heaven, or fear of not being good enough, and a desperate search to be okay through works righteousness. I can’t remember who once said that anyone who would worship God out of that kind of fear would worship the devil for the very same reason. Faith and fear are mutually exclusive.

Language is imperfect and it is a shame that profound reverence and awe toward God has been translated as ‘fear.’ (Though, there is also a sense that if one truly has profound reverence and awe toward God, one has no room or need to fear anything else. But I’m getting ahead of myself.)

Fear is the prime motivator of so much that happens in our world and in our lives. It comes in the form of dread, fright, alarm, panic, terror and trepidation.

It can also be found lurking in our heads and hearts as agitation, anxiousness, apprehension, apprehensiveness, care, concern, disquiet, nervousness, perturbation, solicitude, uneasiness, worry, as well as 

strain, stress, tension; alarm, anguish, consternation, desperation, desperateness, discomfort, discomposure, dismay, distraction, distress, disturbance, edginess, jitters, jumpiness; torment, upset, vexation; doubt, dread, foreboding, incertitude, misgiving, presentiment, suspense, uncertainty.

Worry is a form of fear. Impatience is a form of fear. (There are a lot of masks for Mr. Fear.)

It has taken me a long time to learn that when I am not feeling calm and centered, somewhere in my head and heart I’m struggling with fear, and dealing with a spiritual issue.

Fear slips in so easily.

Emily Dickinson wrote:

“One need not be a chamber to be haunted;

One need not be a house;

the brain has corridors surpassing

material place.”

Like ghosts haunting a house, fear taps into our childhood experiences and our feelings of vulnerability and powerlessness. Fear and hope are oddly connected. That is to say that fear is not always related to our past.

The creative mind can dream of fearful situations. It seems a sad misuse of imagination, but there it is.

We need a certain amount of fear in our lives in order to continue to have life. Our reptilian brains are necessary. The reptilian brain controls our breathing, for instance. And it is the part of the brain that reacts in real danger.  If one is standing on a railroad track and a train is coming, then it is fear that moves us out of the way.

That part of our brain, however, does not discriminate: to the reptilian brain: everything is life or death. Chicken Little knows well the function of the  brain stem.

It often may seem to us that fear exists around us as an external. But that is not so. Fear comes from within and it is only contagious if we are susceptible, and anxiety-prone. Being ruled by our fears is a matter of choice. Of consciousness or of unconsciously choosing to be ruled by fear.

It is no accident that Jesus frequently used the phrases. “Do not be anxious,” or “Fear not.”

Jesus had learned how to live in the present moment, and he had learned he had nothing to fear because he had learned that the universe, being in God’s hands, was a benevolent place. The future, being in God’s hands, holds nothing to fear. If we live and move and have our being in the presence of God, then what in the world need we fear?

If nothing, not even death, can separate us from the love of God, then there is nothing to fear, nothing to worry about. Jesus embodied that wisdom.

Our gospel reading this morning comes right after Jesus foretells his death and resurrection for the third time to the disciples.

I think the discussion arises out of their worries, their anxieties about losing Jesus.

What about us? What will happen to us? Where shall we go? What shall we do without you? Can we sit next to you?? What happens now??

How quickly we go there . . . and how easily it is to lose perspective when Mr. Fear invades.

My friend, Mona Bailey, was a hospital chaplain, and one day she was with a young couple when their first child was born. There were two sets of grandparents, many aunts and uncles, and a host of friends excited about this newcomer. As Mona passed the nursery, she stopped in front of the window for a moment to observe the little fellow as he lay screaming in his bassinet.

Mona had been worrying about one of her own children, now grown, and she saw in this infant a metaphor for her own situation.

“There was this baby, squalling his head off, very upset,” she told me, “He was in the safest place he could be, surrounded by nurses and doctors, and a host of family and friends who already loved him. A lovely nursery with everything any baby could possibly want or need waited for him at home. He would be cared for, his every need tended to. Yet there he was bawling his head off!”

“I realized in that moment,” Mona told me, “That I was that infant. We are in God’s hands. My daughter is in God’s hands. What better hands could I ask for? What was I worrying about?”

John Calvin once wrote:  “Seeing that a Pilot steers the ship in which we sail, who will never allow us to perish even in the midst of shipwrecks, there is no reason why our minds should be overwhelmed with fear and overcome with weariness.”  

That is, at one level, what our reading from Job reminds us this morning when God answers Job out of the whirlwind and reminds him that God has not abandoned creation.

“. . .  who laid its cornerstone when the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?”

This poetry is meant to remind us that God’s goodness and care for us can be trusted at all times.

That was what Jesus was trying to teach the disciples, at any rate.

Why is it so hard to grasp the idea that we live in a benevolent universe?

Jesus came that we might have life abundant, according to scripture.

Jesus invited us to see the world from a different perspective. To put on new lenses, so to speak. Eternal life is one phrase for it. Salvation is another. To move from the idea that the world is out to get us into an understanding of the universe as benevolent. Just putting on those lenses is a huge step in awakening to the reality of God.

James and John missed the point because of their anxiety. We need not worry. And the other disciples missed the point as well. We need not concern ourselves with what others think. If we live in the reality of a benevolent God we can be of service. We will be of service, when our service comes out of a place of peace and serenity and trust in God. (Rather than rushing around, staying busy, trying to fix the world out of anxiety which puts us in the service of our own anxiety first and does not add to our consciousness or really serve others.)

Questions (like the ones God asks Job, and the ones Jesus is always asking) can help us with consciousness, as well.

There are times, for instance, as anxiety begins to settle in, that it can be dispelled by asking the question, “What is the worst thing that can happen? Then, “Is that beyond God’s care or scope?”

It occurred to me this week that what we often need is a ‘Gratitude adjustment.’

We are in the Stewardship Season. Stewardship is about gratitude. Gratitude for all that God has done for us.

It is no accident that it coincides with Thanksgiving: it is the time of the year when we are invited to look at our lives and count our blessings. As we move toward celebrating All Saints day, we are inviting you to think about the people who have nurtured our faith and been examples of the faith for us and for others in our Shower of Saints. It is an opportunity to remember and give thanks for them.

We are invited to think of all our other blessings as a church, as well: to count the untold blessings that have showered upon this church. To take inventory of the gifts we have been given.

I have noticed a tendency among churches (this one is not alone) to only see what we think is lacking, instead of being grateful for what we have. We need more money . . . I have heard. We need more people. We need more . ..  (you fill in the blanks.)

So, in reality, the prayers sound like this: “Thanks, God for all you have done for us. But it isn’t enough. We need more.”

Gratitude is taking stock – really taking stock and being grateful for all that we have been given. Recognizing that it is enough to do what we’ve been called to do.

Stewardship is not about raising money or increasing the budget. It is about being truly thankful for all we have been given and being conscious and careful about how that is managed in a way that continues to express our gratitude to a God who has always been faithful  in providing all that we need.  

When my eldest daughter, D’Arcy, fell in love with Kevin, she called to tell me all about this wonderful new guy in her life. After the litany of adoration, describing his curly black hair, deep blue eyes and all of his many talents and qualities, she said, “And Mom – he’s a Presbyterian! I didn’t even know that mattered until he told me he was and I breathed this huge sigh of relief!”

My son–in-law is indeed a Presbyterian. His parents, John and Judy Murphy, are long-time members of a church near Houston. They reared him well.

When D’Arcy and Kevin married, Kevin still had a year of school left and so they lived frugally as college students  in Denton, Texas.

After that, they moved to Memphis, Tennessee and about a year after they were both finally fully employed, I received a phone call from D’Arcy.

It was stewardship season at their church and she was holding the pledge card in her hand.

“Mom, can I talk to you about stewardship?”

That’s not a question I would have expected to fall from the lips of any PK.

Stunned, I said, “Sure. What’s up?”

D’Arcy then told me that when she and Kevin married they agreed at the start to always tithe – give ten percent of their income-- to the church. That was what each of them had learned in their homes and from their churches. Frankly, I was pleased.

“When we were students, it wasn’t such a big deal,” she said, “Especially since we started out that way . . . it felt good to be able to thank God for one another and all our blessings with that small check to the church each week.”

“Uh-huh.” (My words in no way reflected the joy in my heart. These words were music to my ears.)

“Back then the check wasn’t much. But now, well, Kevin and I are both making pretty good salaries and well, frankly,  ten percent of that is quite a bit of money.”

“Oh,” I said, “It seems like too much money to give to the church?”

“Well, yes.” she said.

 “I am not sure what you are asking from me here, D’Arcy,” I said, “Are you asking for me to pray that one or both of you lose those well-paying jobs or some way be reduced to a smaller income so you can feel comfortable about tithing again? Are you saying that there are some limits to what you can be thankful for? Are you saying you have been too blessed? Or is your question one of God’s ability to provide for you. God did that when you didn’t have much money, but you are afraid God can no longer do that now that you have so much more?”

There was a long pause.

That:   ‘Oh, yeah, I remember now – my Mom is a minister’ pause.

“No, no . . . “she said, “it’s just that . . . .”

Then, it occurred to me that this might not be D’Arcy’s issue. So I asked, “D’Arcy, what does Kevin have to say about this quandary?”

Another long pause.

“Umm. . . it’s not really his problem. Kevin says, ‘It isn’t our money. It never has been.’ He’s excited about being able to give more.” 

Gratitude can move us from fear to faith, from anxiety to trusting in God who longs simply to love us and provide for us in this benevolent universe. It is an opening of us to the abundant life Jesus enjoyed and the feast to which we have been invited. If we were having communion today we could remember that Jesus wanted us to taste and see that God is good. To partake of God’s abundance and remember it is eternal.

Thanks be to God.