June 22 ~ Be Fearlessly Good to Those Who are Justly Afraid
- Ottawa Lutherans Communications
- Jun 23
- 5 min read
Second Sunday after Pentecost
Isaiah 65:1-9
Psalm 22:19-28
Galatians 3:23-29
Luke 8:26-39
(The context of this sermon was 100% written in Canada by a human)
A couple of years ago, a team of researchers set up automated speakers in 21 animal-watering holes in the Greater Kruger National Park, in South Africa. When animals arrived for a drink, the speakers played one of a list of sounds: the growls of a lion, the barking of dogs, the sound of birds, gun shots, and human beings having a calm conversation. The researchers caught on camera how long it took for the animals to flee. As it turned out the results were very clear – and maybe you won’t be surprised. The animals were twice as likely to make a run for it at the sound of human voices than they were when hearing lions or gun shots, and they abandoned their drinks roughly 40 per cent faster. And not just one animal: rhinos, giraffes, warthogs. A leopard even ditched his prey at the sound of a woman’s voice. You can watch it on Tik Tok even now, as The Atlantic helpfully explained in its story on the experiment. That story, incidentally, was called “Animal Are Avoiding Us.” Also, as the story noted, this might not be a bad policy for the animals. We can indeed be a nasty species to those with less power than us.
Fear – the emotion figuring prominently in our gospel this morning – is one of those universal experiences among animals, although scientists are still trying to figure it out: is fear just an instinctive response, or does it require higher-level thinking? Fear can keep animals - and us – alive in bad spots, steering us away from danger. It can also do harm – for example, fearful sparrow parents are less likely to feed their babies.
Fear can be rational – do you really need go to bungee jumping? – and it can be irrational, making us overestimate risks, such as flying, and underestimate other risks, such as driving. Fear can be guided by reasonable cultural information – like when a woman becomes more watchful when approached by a man on an empty street in the dark. And it can also be driven by ignorance , harmful stereotypes and discrimination, such as when that same woman gets more nervous because the man approaching her is black.
Indeed, our fear – of change and difference – is a useful tool for those who would seek to divide society. It can be raised and misdirected in equal measure. When the current US president talks about immigrants being rapists and murderers, he is using misinformation to stoke fear to his best advantage.
So what are we to make of these fearful people in the gospel who come upon Jesus, who had just healed one of their neighbors, and rather than embrace the act, they demand he leave? Certainly, it was as dramatic a healing as Jesus could perform. As the gospel tells us, he pulled the demons out of the man, sent them into a herd of pigs, who then ran into a river and drowned. That is pretty spooky. If the farmer next door came running back from his field telling that story, you might feel the hair rise on the back of your neck.
And yet, when the crowd arrived, what evidence did they see with their own eyes: their neighbor now healed, sitting amiably with Jesus. Are they curious? Do they pause to ask questions? No, they send Jesus packing. And when the man, understandably, wants to go with him, Jesus, tells him to stay, and spread the story of what has happened. That is, in the hopes that fear will subside, replaced by the marvel of the miracle.
Perhaps a more accurate human example of this is the burning of women at the stake for being witches, by leaders fearful of their healing power and influence in society. And while we don’t hear those kinds of specifics in the crowd of people casting Jesus out, surely we can all imagine that one voice rising above, the voice of so-called authority stoking such fear among the others that this man, Jesus, would not stay and remain a threat. If fear is an instinctual, an evolved response meant to protect us from harm, then fear, the more conscious emotion, is also easily manipulated. Combined, these two forms of fear can lead us quite astray.
Just think, for a moment, what these villagers lost. A chance to learn from Jesus. A chance to be healed by Jesus. Their fear cost them these great gifts, and they never even knew it. And isn’t that true with us as well? Fear prevents us from acting or doing; it stops us from opening ourselves up to new people and experiences. But we just go on afterwards, the same as always. Because we cannot know the richness of life, the teaching moments, the valuable friendships that we have missed out on.
This week we celebrated World Refugee Day. Our work as a community to change lives has continued. We recently received Sened here in Ottawa after three years of work and prayer to get her from Africa; while fleeing one war, she landed in another country. Can we even imagine the fear of that experience? And Robel and his family have just been given notice that they will be coming to Canada in 5-7 weeks after 10 years of waiting to get here. Again, imagine the fear they have experienced from all they have seen in conflict ridden Ethiopia, and the fear they feel now, coming to an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people?
The gospel this morning is a reminder to listen carefully to our fears. They always tell us something. Our hairs rise on the back of our neck, and we step more carefully in a dark room at night. Fear prevents us from taking dumb risks. Fear makes us aware of legitimate risks.
But the fear that listens to the wrong voices also rejects people who are different, or worse, does harm to them. This fear stymies the diversity that leads to innovation. That fear feeds on racism and homophobia and xenophobia. That fear does not save us; this fear will be what dooms us.
Be careful what voices your fears listen to. What voice at life’s watering hole sends you fleeing? Someday, it might be the politician seeking to distract you from his hand in your pocket by making you afraid of your fellow citizen. Someday, it might be the friend at the party with his all-too-convincing fake facts. One day, it might even be the modern version of the swineherd running back to the village who has mistaken a miracle for something wicked.
Be not afraid, the gospel tells us. Listen to God’s voice – the gospel’s spirit, the teaching of Jesus. And be fearlessly good to those who are justly afraid. Amen
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