If I Had A Little Gold Box...

Every year, my family sits down before we open gifts on Christmas Eve to read the Christmas story. The lights are off, except for the lights on the Christmas tree itself, and perhaps a few candles around the house. My father takes the heirloom Bible off the shelf and reads the story aloud. It's a quiet, tender moment each year in our house, meant to be warm and thought-provoking.
In preparation for Christmas, I've begun re-reading various accounts of the Christmas story each day before Christmas. I'm almost to the point where I feel like I can recite it by heart, but this morning, I was struck by three points in the narrative. When Gabriel comes to Mary, one of the first things he says to her is, "Don't be afraid." When Gabriel comes to Joseph, again, he says, "Do not be afraid!" And lastly, when the Prince of Peace is born, humble shepherds are called to attend his birth and celebrate, but the heralding begins, "Fear not! Don't be afraid!" This story is supposed to be warm and fuzzy-feeling - why are all these people being told not to be afraid?
It occurs to me that a prominent thought in Christianity today, in all its various forms, is that following God is this easy, calm, peaceful stroll down a sunny path with butterflies and flowers. We tend to think of God as this magical vending machine in the sky that rains down good things to those who follow Him. This year, my heart and mind go especially to my brothers and sisters in the Middle East, whose suffering far outweighs anything I can imagine. So willing to follow Christ, so willing they are led like sheep to a slaughter. Where is their happy ending, their peaceful walk, their sunny days?
The beginning of Christ's life had three major players, and to all of them, the heralders said, "Don't be afraid!"
Why is that?
I think it's because God doesn't call us to easy walks or peaceful lives. He calls us to much, much more. To follow Christ is to take up your cross - in whatever form that may be. For some, it's giving up a dream to lay it at the feet of God as the dearest offering we have to sacrifice. For others, it's a desire that poisons us, needing to be slain for the sake of answering the call. For others, answering the call means giving up one's own life, following Christ's example as literally as anyone can. Following God means the potential to loose something dear and precious. But He promises to never stray from us or abandon us. What holds us back, then, when following God is just one choice away, but His presence is always there?
It's scary, that's what.
Fear was meant to act as the survival instinct in us. It warns us. It keeps us alert. "Flinch" by Julien Smith was a profound study of fear and overcoming it. The thing is, so many of us are afraid of things we shouldn't be. I, for one, have a fear of Wyoming and claustrophobia that only acts up when I'm in a kitchen. Why on earth am I afraid of such things? Not a clue! But I shouldn't be, should I? It's remarkably silly, after all. But what about that warning that comes with fear?
It's the warning that's the most telling. In truth, I'm not really afraid of Wyoming, but the vast emptiness that is eastern Wyoming, which represents an unending loneliness and solidarity of which I truly am afraid. If something were to happen to me in that state of being alone, there would be no one to help. So by heeding those fears, I keep myself out of situations where that could happen, and therefore, I stay alive.
But, if following God is following Christ's path to the Cross, something in me has to die in order for me to live.
Christ had to die on the Cross in order to rise again to new and eternal life. What has to die in me that I, too, may eternally live? Among other things, my servitude to fear must die. When I overcome my fear, a whole new realm of possibilities opens up to me. More doors for serving, more opportunities for loving, more chances for growth in the kingdom... Things move and shake in ways I can't express, all because I refused to let fear get the better of me. It's scary. It's the unknown. I don't know what will happen, but I know I don't walk this path alone.
In the Christmas story alone, there are three examples of overcoming fear to receive something greater. Mary gave up an easy life of security and normalcy to answer God's call. She risked her life to carry Him within her. Instead of saying, "Oh, no, I don't want this," or, "You've got this all wrong," she said instead, "May it be done to me as you have said," and thus she accepted her calling. Joseph didn't even question the angel. He took Mary to be his wife, overcoming the fear of shame that accompanied marrying a pregnant woman. He then raised the Messiah as his own Son. The shepherds left their flocks and went straight away to behold the newborn King of Kings. They could have lost everything, their whole livelihoods, but they answered the call anyway, and they were rewarded with the place of honor that holy night.
"Don't be afraid."
There's something better than fear on your horizon.