Do not be afraid, little flock: for it has pleased the Father to give you the Kingdom (Lk 12:32)
Our Lord’s exhortation not to be afraid is very familiar to us. But I think we can’t hear it too frequently. We need to ponder these words, trust them, cling on to them, affirm them: strive to act and think and speak in accordance with them.
Of course the saying is paradoxical. In context: Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, to be crucified. Elsewhere we read how Jesus prophesied what would happen to his disciples then, quoting words of Zechariah: I will strike the Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered (Mt 26:31; cf. Zach 13:7). In the time of the Church, when St. Luke was writing: both the Jewish and the Roman authorities were persecuting the followers of Jesus to death. In light of that, the words of Jesus stand forth all the more sharply, in their clarity, and their power, in their mystery, in their hidden wisdom, in their challenge.
In our own time we feel ourselves to be a little flock indeed, with good reason to fear, on multiple levels. Our Church seems to be beset these days on every side, from within as well as from without, by hostile forces. In many parts of the world there is again open and violent persecution of Christians. Here we’re intensely aware of our fragility, as our numbers dwindle, and our place in society becomes ever more marginalised, and ever less tolerated. Nevertheless: Do not be afraid, says the Lord.
Other things also can make us afraid. There is the current state of the world, with its threats of global economic recession, and war, and environmental disaster. Then also: we Christians can be troubled by the silence, or the apparent absence of God. Terrible things happen; the innocent suffer; the wicked prosper; the future seems dark. Definitely not everything is just fine. Sometimes we can feel alone, vulnerable, abandoned. Sometimes we want to cry out: Where is God? Where is Jesus? How can we not be afraid?
But: Do not be afraid, says the Lord. It seems to me that if God did not exist, and if Jesus were not truly who he said he is, then anyone not afraid must be living in a fool’s paradise. But we Christians know well that our Lord has all things in his hands. He has won the victory. He is all powerful. He loves us divinely. But to find the supreme source of our confidence, and our consolation, and our hope, we must look above all to his saving Cross.
Jesus shared with us our natural horror of death, of pain, of loss, of humiliation, of abandonment. Yet he who was rich, as St. Paul says, chose to make himself poor (cf. 2 Cor 8:9): supremely on the cross. There, stripped of everything, and enduring all the worst that this world could throw at him, he gave up even his life itself: in order that from that poverty we might become rich. From the Cross Jesus gives us the Kingdom. From the Cross comes our security, our invincible confidence, our dignity. So whenever we encounter trouble; whenever we feel afraid; whenever our resources seem to have run out entirely: we should contemplate Jesus hanging on the Cross. This contemplation is what gave courage to the martyrs, and inspiration to the holy missionaries. This is what motivated all other great Saints to their heroic acts. All of these gave away all they had, and rightly considered themselves truly the gainers in that bargain.
In the light of Christ’s cross, the attitude of the Christian towards this world must be radically different from that of the secularist. For them: this world is all there is. For us: this world is merely a waiting room, a preparation, a time of testing and trial. For us, to be privileged with some share in Christ’s Cross cannot be regarded merely negatively. The great aim of our life must be to become conformed to Jesus: to share his patience, his humility, his goodness, his trust in God, his forgiveness, his holiness, his love, his life. Our trials and sufferings can be for us so many opportunities to practise all that, and to grow in it. In the eyes of the world, this is mere folly. In truth, it’s the highest wisdom.
Our Lord goes on in today’s Gospel to remind us to be always ready for his coming. He is the divine burglar who will one day break finally into our lives, in order to confer on us riches beyond our imagination. He is the divine Master who will one day wait on us his servants at the eternal banquet in heaven. He is also the stern Judge who will punish those who have paid him little or no attention; whose lives have contradicted his promises. Our gaze then is to be set habitually forward. We are to long for the better things to come; certain that quite soon they will arrive. In light of them, we are to relativise all our worldly troubles.
Of course Jesus is not for us someone merely of the past or the future. No: he remains always present with us: our teacher, our loving companion, our healer, our good shepherd, our guide, our friend. Sometimes, when we feel his presence as obvious, and inescapable, all is spiritual consolation. Then we are filled with joy, and with new life, and new energy in his service. Sometimes though we feel intensely his absence, or hiddenness, and this can be for us a source of much suffering.
But we live as Christians by faith, not by our natural senses, or by our feelings; and this is good for us. Thank God anyway that we have in the Holy Eucharist an ever repeated, ever present pledge of all the Lord’s promises, of his presence, and of his power, pouring out from the Cross. Surely this gift of the Lord to his Church must be our greatest possible consolation, as we await his definitive coming in glory. If we come to the Holy Eucharist afraid, we should leave it not afraid. Our participation in these holy mysteries should fill us with renewed courage and confidence; also with renewed determination to be faithful to the end, and renewed abandonment to the infallible care of divine Providence.
Nowadays it seems that those who belong to the Lord are once again few. Well, all the more, let all of them at least be whole-hearted in their attachment to him. Let them be people who walk with Jesus, people who know him, who are filled by him, who are in love with him. Let them all allow the Holy Spirit to set them on fire with divine love. Let them be people of prayer. Let them hold nothing whatever dearer to themselves than Christ. And may he bring us all together, finally, into his Kingdom.