We live in fearful times; times full of fear.  9/11, all the shootings, the recent Boston Massacre have left many of us terribly worried, if not down-right panicked.  A need for stricter gun control laws, a desire for much stronger border controls to prevent illegal and perhaps criminal aliens entering our country, the suggestion that cameras be placed on every corner to watch for suspected terrorists, and a seeming willingness on the part of some to sacrifice personal freedoms for collective security show how deeply we have descended into terror.

            Terror and terrorism.  These words have been part of our language for centuries, yet they have far greater force than 50 or 60 years ago.  This past week I looked up those words in the American college dictionary I received as a prize for winning a speaking contest in high school.  While the basic definition is not all that different today, the examples used were the Reign of Terror in 18^th Century France and those using terrorism to bring down the Czarist government in Russia before the Communist Revolution.  In other words, terrorism happened in the past and in other countries.  Current dictionaries use very different examples.

            We live in fearful times; times full of fear. The words of the Adams family daughter in that movie of some years ago aren’t funny anymore, but seem sound advice:  “Be afraid, be very, very afraid.”  Before I go any further, let me make clear that there are things we should fear today.  The world is becoming more and more dangerous.  We ought to be afraid of what terrorists might do to us whether we are at home or abroad.  Appropriate constitutional and legal measures should be taken to ensure public safety.  Unfortunately, normal and appropriate fear can morph into irrational fear.  When that happens we cross the line from rational to irrational fear.  We begin to imagine terrible things that might happen.  If we begin to act on those irrational fears bad things happen to good people.  Like crazed animals we strike out in all directions bringing hurt and harm to ourselves and others.  If I may be permitted to alter Franklin Roosevelt’s words at the beginning of his presidency in 1932 – “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”  “The only thing we have to fear today is fear that loses touch with reality.”

            How can we keep from surrendering to irrational and destructive fear?  It could help if we recognized that people in other times faced the same fears we do.  We should attempt to understand how they responded, wisely or foolishly.

            I have included a great poem in today’s bulletin by William Butler Yeats.  It was written in the early part of the twentieth century.  “The Second Coming” is a poem of deep despair.  Poets often see more clearly what is going on in the world now and what will happen in the future.  Yeats’ words describe his fears about the path the world was taking.  He anticipated what one scholar called the twentieth century, “The worst so far.”  Such a world looks forward not to a second coming of the Prince of Peace, but rather the birth of a rough beast of evil and destruction.  Yeats would probably have agreed with existentialist philosopher, John Paul Sartre, that the human race has “No Exit.”  Things will only get worse and never better.  No wonder another existentialist, Albert Camus, could suggest that the only real answer to life is death by suicide.  Get out now and avoid the rush!

            What a contrast to the faith of John the Revelator, the author of the last book in the Bible, “The Revelation to John.”  Sitting on his rocky island prison off the coast of modern Turkey, John sent words of comfort and hope to the Christian churches he had served as bishop.  During his lifetime, Christians had suffered terrible persecution from the Roman Empire.  This was state sponsored and directed terrorism.  Bad as it was, John could see that even worse times were coming for the church and he was right.  John smuggled his letter from Patmos to the mainland so it could be read aloud in the Christian churches.  Yes, I know the words and ideas in the Revelation to John, make little sense to us and seem really weird.  I hope it might help you to appreciate his letter more if I told you it is written in a sort of Christian code based on material in what we call the Old Testament, the only Bible John had.

            John is an utter realist when it comes to the world of his day.  He knew very well the suffering and martyrdom of many Christian people.  He had no illusions about the power of an evil empire Christians faced.  For John, the only possible hope was that God would destroy this world and all the evil in it, including the Roman Empire, then establish a new world, a new Eden, of peace and joy.  In our scripture lesson for today, John looks forward to a new heaven and a new earth.  Listen again to his words.

                        “See, the home of God is among mortals.

                        He will dwell with them as their God;

                        They will be his peoples,

                        And God himself will be with them;

                        He will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

                        Death will be no more;

                        Mourning and crying and pain will be no more,

                        For the first things have passed away.”

--Revelation to John 21:3-4

            As we well know, the world did not come to an end as John believed it would, soon, perhaps, in his own lifetime.  But his faith that God will have the last word in human history is absolutely true then or now.  Whether in life or in death, whether in safety or in terrorism, whether in this world or in the next, we are forever safe in God’ keeping.  Our fears should never overwhelm us because we believe God, is truly with us.  In that faith we come to know that the words of the writer of the First Letter of John (4:18) are absolutely true, “God is Love . . .  there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”  Our fears must be changed to faith.

            We remember and celebrate that perfect, fearless love when we share in Communion.  The words of the service speak of a broken body and spilled blood, but we are not remembering a tragedy, a tragedy that has come to so many.  We are celebrating life, real, full, abundant life.  As Christ passed through the terror of death to the glory of eternal life, so will we, his people.  Let this meal remind us that as we symbolically take Christ into our bodies, nothing, nothing can ever separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.  That faith conquers all fear.

            Thanks be to God.  Amen.