Genesis 15:1-6 Psalm 50:1-7 Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16 Luke 12:32-40
Growing up in a pretty conservative evangelical context, I remember my Sunday school days being concerned with getting our ticket to, what was called, the angel train. This angel train was bound for glory and my ticket would – hopefully, but not certainly – get me into heaven. I was genuinely disappointed (before being relieved) in early adulthood to learn there was no angel train in scripture. There was a lot of fear involved back then. A lot. Maybe you had some theological unwrapping to do and there’s almost certainly more to come, to gain greater engagement with scripture and realise we know less and less about God and that to swim in that mystery is the real gift of grace.
My suggestion, as you unravel, learn and relearn, is always to keep hold of a few core truths that crop up repeatedly in scripture and weigh all other concerns against them. The most important, is God is love. Always. And if the message isn’t love, it isn’t God. Keep hold of that and let it inform everything. The second is found in both our OT lesson and our gospel reading today and is just 4 little words… do not be afraid. Don’t be afraid. It’s going to be ok. God has got this. God has got you. Don’t be afraid. 365 times that phrase appears in scripture. It’s a big deal.
I got lost down rabbit warrens in reading this week. I studied the top ten fears people face. I researched surveys on fear (interesting that in 2018 and 2023, American people most feared – more than anything else – their government being corrupt). I spent a whole load of time focussing on fear, looking for a message for you all, this morning. And I missed the point, because the message for Abram and those first disciples and for us, is very clear. Don’t be afraid.
In these verses from Genesis, we meet Abram in the long, slow middle of God’s promise.
The call had come years earlier — “Leave your country… I will make of you a great nation.”
But time had passed, and there is still no child, no sign that the promise was any closer to reality. And into that, God says: “Do not be afraid, Abram.”
Abram is honest in his response: “What will you give me, for I remain childless?”
There’s no pretending. Abram names the gap between the promise and his reality.
And God takes him outside, points to the stars, and says: “So shall your descendants be.”
And then, those beautiful words: Abram believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness. His righteousness wasn’t in having all the answers, or even in seeing the promise fulfilled. It was in living as though the promise was already true. Trusting God in the waiting, and living in faith, not in fear.
Centuries later, Jesus says something strikingly similar: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”
That’s not a future maybe — that’s a present gift. The kingdom is already yours.
No waiting for that angel train. The Kingdom is yours now. And because it is yours, it requires a different way of living… “Sell your possessions… give alms… keep your lamps lit.”
Why? Because faith is not simply agreeing with a set of ideas about God — it’s living today in the light of the promises God made for tomorrow.
If we believe God’s promise that the kingdom is ours, then we start acting like kingdom people now. We hold our resources with an open hand, we respond to need with generosity, we keep our hearts and lives ready. This is not about passively waiting for heaven one day. It’s not a case of having our ticket for eternity in our hand and then waiting out the rest of life until we get to the real bit, the bit we’ve been waiting for. It’s about actively living heaven’s values here and now — even when we can’t yet see the fullness of the promise.
Last Sunday we had our peace vigil. We heard sobering truths about life in war zones in the past week. We discovered that bread, in Gaza today, is 300 times more expensive than before the genocide. And then we shared communion together and prayed for peace. And as we ate a morsel of bread we considered it to be food for the journey in our quest to feed the hungry, be peacemakers, live out the promises that the kingdom of heaven is already here. We ate the bread of life that is free for all, costs nothing, yet costs absolutely everything – Christ’s whole body, and now ours too.
On Monday we celebrated the life of our dear Ivy and we shared the eucharist together. Increasingly, at times of death and bereavement, I get the sense that we eat a tiny fragment of what our loved ones now enjoy fully at the heavenly banquet. We live today in the light of the promises God made for us about tomorrow, and because we choose to trust those promises, we don’t need to be afraid.
Do not be afraid, God says to Abram
Do not be afraid, Jesus says to his disciples.
Do not be afraid, the pages of scripture say to us.
As people of God, it is our call to be a glimpse of what lies ahead for others. A glimpse of the reason why this fearful, fretful world doesn’t need to be afraid. To live now as though the banquet has already begun.
And that’s not always easy because, like Abram, we live in the tension between promise and fulfilment. We still see hunger, injustice, and heartbreak. And it would be easy to retreat into self-protection, to build bigger barns for our own security, to hoard and keep our hands and hearts closed. But Jesus is clear. He says no to that way of living; Keep your lamps lit. Stay dressed for action. Live as if the promise is certain — because it is.
I have recently restarted journalling. Each day I am given just one question to ponder and scribble about, and it is a useful practice so, in the coming week, I invite you to hold this question close, maybe even journal if you can. The question is this: If I really believed God’s promises, how would I live today?
Would I give more freely?
Speak more hopefully?
Forgive more quickly?
Stand up more boldly?
Because faith is not just believing about God — it’s trusting God enough to start living now in the light of what God has promised for tomorrow. The kingdom is yours. It is yours now. You don’t need to wait for it. And because of that, little flock, we don’t need to be afraid. Amen.
Holy Adventures 