The Rev. Dr. Sandy Selby
Faith Lutheran Church
Proper 14C - August 10, 2025
Luke 12:32-40 - 32“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. 33Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. 34For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. 35“Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; 36be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. 37Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them. 38If he comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn, and finds them so, blessed are those slaves. 39“But know this: if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. 40You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”
I can still recall a scene that occurred in my life with some regularity sixty-some years ago. I was sitting in the hallway of Brookside Elementary School in Cranford, New Jersey, with my back to the wall, bent over, my coat over my head, while sirens blared around me. It was an air-raid drill, practicing what to do when the Russians sent nuclear missiles our way. Friends who grew up in Ohio tell me they hid under their desks in the classroom during air-raid drills. I guess different parts of the country had their own distinctive way of teaching schoolchildren how to be afraid.
Beyond that, we were told that Cranford, New Jersey, was especially at risk for three reasons: we were only twenty miles from New York City; we were less than ten miles from the chemical plants and oil refineries between us and New York that would unleash disaster when they were bombed; and we were about thirty miles from the Navy’s underground storage facility for bombs and other weapons that was located in central New Jersey. It was the Cold War, and we were right in the thick of it. Our local paper had a story about an air-raid shelter that was built in the back yard by a family who lived a couple of blocks from us.
In our schools, and as we watched the news in our homes, we learned to be afraid because the Russians were coming to get us, a fear that spread like wildfire during the Cuban Missile Crisis of October 1962, when I was in fifth grade. My parents were not inclined toward hysteria, but I can still see them standing in the living room during that crisis, talking quietly with a neighbor while giving my sisters and me furtive looks to be certain we weren’t overhearing their conversation. I was afraid. We all were.
In his 2010 book titled Be Very Afraid, Princeton sociologist Robert Wuthnow tells of his own experience of childhood air-raid drills and the way in which the collective psyche of our nation shifted, fundamentally, during the Cold War. Quite simply, he says, “For more than six decades [which is now, eight decades], humankind has lived with the knowledge that it could be the agent of its own annihilation.”[1] He goes on to enumerate four particular perils that could bring about that annihilation and that are with every one of us, mostly subconsciously, amidst the otherwise mundane patterns of our daily existence, and occasionally raise their ugly heads and escalate our fears. Those four perils he named fifteen years ago are nuclear war; terrorism and weapons of mass destruction; global pandemic; and global climate change. “Be Very Afraid,” indeed. Ten years after he wrote his book citing the risk of global pandemic, COVID hit.
In today’s Scripture lesson Jesus says, “Do not be afraid.” Easy for him to say! In his day there weren’t nuclear bombs, chemical weapons, terrorists flying airplanes into buildings, or assault rifles. “Do not be afraid,” Jesus? Give me a break.
But I’m inclined to cut Jesus some slack. It’s helpful to consider the context in which he engaged in his public ministry, around the year 30 of the Common Era. And it’s helpful to consider the context in which Luke wrote his gospel about the life and ministry of Jesus, about fifty years after Jesus died. Let’s take a moment to do that.
Jesus was speaking to people who lived under Roman rule. The Romans’ oppressive system of taxation forced many into abject poverty and was enforced by the ubiquitous presence of soldiers. Their poverty was compounded by the requirement to pay taxes to the religious authorities to finance the Temple in Jerusalem. Income inequality, poverty, and violence were a daily threat to those to whom Jesus was speaking. All of this in a society that had no safety net except for the biblical command to care for widows and orphans, which some people did, but many did not. In 1st-century Palestine the people didn’t face the same perils we do today, but there’s no question the people to whom Jesus was speaking were fearful, and rightfully so. Jesus himself knew that life in 1st-century Palestine was dangerous. Indeed, he spoke the words that we hear today on the road to Jerusalem, knowing full well what was ahead.
Luke wrote about the life and ministry of Jesus around fifty years later, to a community within a particular political and social context. The social conditions of income inequality and extreme poverty still existed. That hadn’t changed. What had changed was that the Romans had conquered Jerusalem and destroyed the Temple. There was conflict, controversy, and chaos. So yes, people were anxious, they were worried, they were afraid.
Jesus knew that, and Luke knew that. In the encounter with the disciples and the crowds in the 12th chapter of Luke, Jesus acknowledges their “fear” six times, and their “worry,” four times. Jesus says,“Do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or what you will wear.” Does not God care for the ravens, for the lilies, and for the grass in the field? God knows your needs”(12:31). Jesus goes on to say, as we heard this morning: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Then Jesus tells them what living in the kingdom of God means: “Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
"Where you treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Jesus was addressing people whose discomfort and concern with the chaotic world around them, and their situation within it, left them feeling variously worried, anxious, fearful, or downright terrified. Two thousand years later, there are many things going on around us that leave many of us fearful: economic inequality, climate change, gun violence, political partisanship, global conflict. Need I say more?
Jesus knew that our natural tendency, when we are anxious, is to cling tightly to the things we can control, and to work mightily to control the things we feel like we can’t control, whether that is money, possessions, status, power, or autonomy. When our treasure is security and self-sufficiency, our heart will be there also, fully invested in protecting ourselves against what we fear in the world around us. St. Augustine had a way of describing this way of being: “God is always trying to give good things to us, but our hands are too full to accept them.” It’s called living in a protective bubble. That’s one way of being in the world.
There’s another way of being, which is to let go of our need for control, trust God’s providence, and open our hands to accept the good things God is trying to give us. Jesus says, “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” The way of being in the kingdom of God, the Reign of God that is an alternative way of being in the world, is based on trusting in God’s presence and providence, and being in loving, life-giving community with others.
So, the question before each of us, today, is “who do we choose to be?”—a choice that is made by individuals, yes, but also by organizations, institutions, and churches. This overarching life question, “who do we choose to be?” is raised by Margaret Wheatley in her book titled Who Do We Choose To Be?Facing Reality, Claiming Leadership, Restoring Sanity. Wheatley says the problem with the way of being based on security and self-sufficiency, the way of being based on creating “personal, protective bubbles,” is that there is no synergy, no leveraging the positive power of being there for others, in community.
Wheatley encourages leaders “to use their power and influence, their insight and compassion, to….. create the conditions for our basic human qualities of generosity, contribution, community and love to be evoked, no matter what.”[2] She writes, “Within the cycle of moral decay, there are always those few in number who…give themselves wholeheartedly to prove that, in any circumstance, we humans can be generous, creative, and kind.” Wheatley calls such efforts “islands of sanity.”[3]
Islands of sanity. These islands of sanity amidst the raging waters of global chaos are communities based on love, nonviolence, generosity, compassion, kindness, service to others, and devotion to hanging in there for the long haul. Those who dedicate themselves to being islands of sanity are not naive, or quixotic; on the contrary, they are committed to facing reality and to working intentionally to make a difference locally, in their communities and organizations. In so many ways, the hope, and the opportunity for meaningful change, is local.
Jesus said, “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom,” freeing us to live with hope, and with trust in God’s providence. My hope is that, here at Faith Lutheran Church and elsewhere, in our own interactions in the community and within our congregation, and with our kinship groups of family and friends, we can form islands of sanity. Islands do not exist apart from one another but are interconnected, deep down, beneath the swirling waters of chaos surrounding them.
Together, the islands of sanity that emanate from this place could form an archipelago of compassionate, whole-hearted people who dare to center our lives, and place our treasure, in communities grounded in and committed to love, kindness, and compassion. Islands of sanity that are deeply interconnected by the foundation we share, as God’s children. Intentional kinship groups of friends and family, communities, and organizations who function as an alternative way of being, living the values of the Reign of God.
There are many such “islands of sanity” here at Faith Lutheran Church that are interconnected with the community we serve—the Loads of Faith ministry, the Community Garden, DLM, and Busy Fingers, among others. If you want to get involved, there is more information about these ministries, and more, on our website. Let’s expand the archipelago of islands of sanity here at Faith, and in our networks outside this church, reaching out in love and in service to our community.
We can choose to live in a bubble, driven by fear, and dedicating ourselves to self-protection and self-sufficiency. Or we can choose to live on an island of sanity, grounded in love, trusting in God’s providence, and devoting ourselves to the common good.
Jesus said, ”Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Good people of God: Where is your treasure? Where is your heart? Who do you choose to be?
Amen.