Genesis 15:1-6; Psalm 33:12-22; Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16; Luke 12:32-40
The Rev. Candice B. Frazer
Faith and fear—two forces with which so many of us wrestle. “Have faith” is easy to say, yet so difficult to live. How often do we allow our troubles and struggles to overwhelm us, dampening our hopes, and causing our faith to wither? In those moments, fear sets in. Once it takes root in our minds and hearts, it grows—casting long shadows across a faith that can feel fragile.
The story of Abram, who will become Abraham, is one of those moments when despair and fear threaten to overshadow faith. Abram despairs of his childlessness.
God visits Abram and offers him a vision of countless descendants, encouraging him to “[l]ook toward heaven and count the stars…” (Genesis 15:5). This is how numerous his descendants will be. God’s invitation is clear: Abram need not worry about his childlessness but, instead, have faith in God’s promises.
The author of the letter to the Hebrews picks up this theme, reminding us that it is God who creates and gives all things. The promises God made to Abraham and Sarah, to Isaac and Jacob, and to all who have “died in faith without receiving the promises,” know that they will still come to fruition. The people of God trusted in those promises, even when they were not realized in their own lifetimes. They did not live by fear: fear that there wasn’t enough, fear of powerlessness, fear of the stranger, fear of losing what they possessed. No, they did not live lives of fear. They trusted in the abundant promises of God. Even though they would never know their descendants or realize their own Jerusalems, they didn’t look back at what they had left behind or bemoan their traveling in the wilderness and living in tents. They did not try to recreate the past, something they thought was once great and desired that again. Instead, they always looked forward to something better, to something heavenly, to that thing which God had promised them not what they might create as man.
Jesus reminds his disciples that they, too, have a choice between fear and faith. He exhorts them, “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32). What brings God joy is giving—particularly, giving the kingdom to us. We are the flock, the sheep of God’s pasture, the little lambs led through the valley of the shadow of death. Jesus reminds us that by choosing faith over fear, that is then we can receive the kingdom of God—not just the “one-day-when-I-die-I-want-to-go-to-heaven” kingdom, but the kingdom that is near, the kingdom that Jesus Christ has already ushered in, the kingdom God promised to Abraham.
As many of you know, I am an avid Harry Potter fan. After the first book came out, I pre-ordered each sequel, waited anxiously for the UPS driver to deliver them, and then spent
the rest of the day devouring the books from cover to cover.
At the time, there was a lot of controversy surrounding the books—some said they were satanic because they featured witches and wizards, with potions and spells and all the “works of the devil.” I think that controversy is why I remember so clearly the moment I realized that J.K. Rowling was quoting scripture.
In the seventh and final book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Harry and Hermione are on the run and visit the village where Harry’s parents died—Godric’s Hollow. They arrive late in the evening, and as they approach the church in the square, they hear carols and see the windows aglow. It is Christmas Eve. They edge through the gate of the little cemetery next to the church and soon discover the grave of Dumbledore’s mother and sister. On the gravestone are the words, “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” The same words we read in our gospel this morning. Those words, that setting, and the controversy around the books all gave me pause, and I have often wondered why Rowling might have chosen this scripture and used it in this way.
For many preachers, this line about treasure and heart often leads directly to a stewardship sermon. The idea is that in giving to the church, we grow our hearts in God. Those sermons have served us well. They anchor us in knowing that our hearts have grown because our treasure is there. But I don’t think J. K. Rowling was thinking about giving to the church when she put those words on the tombstone of Dumbledore’s family.
And it makes me wonder if Jesus wasn’t pointing toward something else too when he spoke these words to his disciples. Jesus couches this saying, not in where you should give your money, but in the words, “Do not be afraid…” He tells the disciples that there are several ways in which they can choose faith over fear, many of which invite them into non-attachment of worldly possessions: “Sell your possessions and give alms.” “Make purses…that do not wear out.” “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” I believe that in some ways Jesus was reminding his disciples and us about that connection between what we possess and what we fear—for it is in out possessions that invite fear into our hearts.
It is logical to hear these words as warnings about ownership and wealth, and yet Jesus doesn’t stop there. He continues by pointing to our actions—telling his disciples to be prepared, be alert. You do not know when I am coming back again. He invites us to live as the church.
What do we truly value? What are the true treasures that grow in our hearts—fear or faith? For when we value money and possessions and power and control; when we attempt to disenfranchise others in order to maintain what we possess—we allow our hearts to grow in darkness. The treasure Jesus points to is the treasure of people, our relationships. How we build one another up, not tear one another down.
This is where that scene in the graveyard and the quote on the headstone offer perspective. Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts and the most respected wizard of his time has plenty of wealth and power and authority. But there are not the things that he treasures. Treasure for Dumbledore is about all that he lost as a young man. Tempted by his desire to do good through authoritarian means, he stumbled down a path of doing the wrong things, even if he believed it was for the right reasons. He wanted to overthrow the muggles—the non-magic folk by disenfranchising them by taking away their ability to vote in their own elections, by not allowing them a voice in parliament, by denying them the opportunity to be part of decisions that would rule their lives. He wanted to form a government controlled by wizards. And in so doing, at least for a moment, his temptations overwhelmed him, and he lost himself. His heart became dark because his treasure was dangerous and domineering as it was rooted in fear. The fear of being a wizard in a muggle world; the fear of his own disenfranchisement.
Where he had desired the greater good for the world, he found himself trying to control the world. Instead of building it up, he wanted to tear it down. When he realized the error of his ways and tried to reform, he found himself in a battle that ended in the death of his sister. He had valued power over people and his treasure had darkened his heart.
That was the moment when Dumbledore found clarity and true purpose for his life. He had allowed fear to dictate a desire to protect others by controlling them. Fear is, after all, transactional. It requires us to sell our souls. It was not until he realized how powerless he was, even to protect his own sister, that he was able to release his need for control and his fears, and find truth in faith.
That faith is what dictates his actions throughout the books (even though we don’t know it) until the seventh and final book. It is the most consistent thing we see about Dumbledore. He spends six books offering and empowering faith to young people, particularly a boy named Harry Potter to defeat the most terrible and evil wizard of all time. A boy who is a wizard and grows up in a muggle family not knowing anything about the wizarding world or how to live in it. But Dumbledore, throughout this time, holds faith in this young person.
Losing his sister taught Dumbledore what true treasure is. He understood the false treasure of power and dominance had ruled his heart with fear. But in his grief, he discovered his faith was able to release his fears and allow others to be empowered even if they were children, even if they were marginalized and lived on the edge, not in the center of government and society. He had faith in those people, and they did not disappoint.
Jesus tells his disciples not to be afraid. The true treasure of this life cannot be measured in money or title. It is not about control or power. It cannot be secured by disenfranchising others. The true treasure of this life is discovered only through faith, hope, and love. If your heart is hurting, maybe it’s time to reexamine the treasure you are holding—a fool’s gold is fear, and it will never afford you the possibility and potential of a faithful life in Christ. That life is one in which we discover hope and grow in love—not because we are assured of the outcomes, but because, like Abraham, we trust in God’s promises. We trust in faith.
Amen.