Do not be afraid

Our Christmas Eve tradition is to go to the 5:00 pm service, one that includes a slide show narrative of the Christmas story as told by Luke and enacted by children in our parish. For years it was my pleasure to put this show together, a job I loved because every year I found something new in the story. Tonight I watched with equal joy(plus no stress!) and yet again, something new stood out.

Mary is quietly minding her own business, perhaps mending or peeling vegetables, when suddenly an angel appears. "Do not be afraid," he begins, and then he gives her news which rocks her world. Those words appear again, this time to shepherds watching their flocks by night. Once again, an angel appears, and they are terrified. When the girls were young, one of our favorite Christmas books was This Is the Star, which features an awe-ful angel, filling the page with light and glory and majesty, appearing to shepherds who understandably cower in fear. "Do not be afraid," the angel tells them. After watching this celestial light show, the shepherds leave their sheep to go to Bethlehem.

Do not be afraid. Those words resonate with me because there is so much fear in the air right now. As a small child, my nephew had rules for monsters: they were not allowed in the bathtub or his bed, two places of great vulnerability. Even as more cynical adults, we expect safe places. Yet twice in ten days, a shooting struck where we thought safety lay. Twenty-six children and adults were murdered in classrooms with tiny coats on hooks and crayons in desks and abc's on the wall, leaving a schoolful of survivors who will never feel safe again. And today, firefighters responding to a fire were picked off by a sniper, killing two and severely injuring two more. Firefighters are the ones who come to save us. Without them, life becomes immeasurably more dangerous.

Do not be afraid. Almost a year has gone by since Elizabeth was sent home from her psychiatric residential treatment program by people angry they couldn't fix her. Anxiety is a horrible thing and Elizabeth suffers greatly from it, especially at night. Many times our small house feels too big and unsafe, and we end up in the car driving for hours in the dark until she falls asleep. Many times her social anxiety causes her to strike out at others, saying unkind and hurtful things. I feel worn out and stretched, but there is no margin for error with her and so I must not show my exhaustion and hopelessness. Her anxiety is contagious, causing others to fear her and worry over what she might do next. Even now, almost midnight, she lies in her bed, anxiety and excitement over Christmas tied up together, keeping her awake.

Do not be afraid. Many are without work and struggle to pay their bills. I HAVE work, yet I still struggle. Elizabeth is an expensive child and I juggle where the money goes. I try to triage: trip to the vet for a cat, five separate plumbing problems, a broken window in the girls' room, new tires, shoes that don't hurt, bills unpaid. I find myself paralyzed, unable to decide, until one becomes a crisis and the decision is made for me.

Do not be afraid. As I reread Luke, I'm struck by how Mary and the shepherds respond. They take action, Mary saying yes and the shepherds taking a roadtrip to see for themselves. But first they stop being afraid. That's an important detail because if we take action while we are still afraid, it's a very different action. When we are afraid, we see the world as a dangerous place with people who are trying to take what is ours. We may think we need more guns to protect ourselves against the bad guys. We hoard our money out of fear of not having enough. We worry that people are taking more than their fair share, even if we don't need it. We make our world smaller and, we hope, safer. Paradoxically, the smaller and more heavily armed it becomes, the more unsafe it feels.

One of the healthiest suggestions to come from the Newtown shooting is to do an act of kindness in honor of each victim. I decided to take this task on; doing so has forced me to expand my world, to look outwards instead of circling the wagons. Paying for the car behind me in the drive-through or letting someone go ahead of me in line reminds me that they are people like me, tired and broke and afraid, and not someone to guard against. It's not charity but community, an acknowledgement that we really are all in this together.

Meanwhile others have expanded their world to fit our messy family in. When I could no longer stand it, Deb, Amy, Sadie, Summer, and Sarah invited Elizabeth into their homes for afternoons and days, allowing me to breathe again. Our friend Tom meets with Elizabeth weekly, gently helping her to understand her story and her fears. Several significant and unexpected gifts, one from our Christmas Eve magi, have taken the edge off our financial crises, and once again reminded me that we have enough. The teachers at school take a deep breath and try again to help her succeed.

Tonight I feel peaceful and calm. Claire is home from college and Elizabeth has finally fallen asleep. We spent the evening with friends and Elizabeth's birth family. The stockings are filled and the presents are wrapped. I'm sleepy and grateful for family and love and laughter and good food. I'm thankful for fear-free moments, when I can see clearly and act wisely.

Do not be afraid. It's a choice as well as a call to action.