Taming the Furies

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

July 24, 2016

Taming the Furies

Selected Texts

The cab pulled up in front of the hotel

in central Moscow.

The hotel was new,

a five-star hotel, part of German chain.

It was located right across from the storied Kremlin,

set on the banks of the Moscow River,

the onion domes of St. Basil’s Cathedral

just off to the right.

I stepped out of the cab.

A doorman took my suitcase

and led me toward the entrance.

Before I entered the hotel, though,

I noticed that on either side of the doors

stood uniformed men,

armed men,

men with automatic weapons.

The year was 1993

and it was the beginning of post-Soviet Russia.

Russia was feverish with capitalism,

a gold-rush mentality everywhere;

“cowboy capitalism”,

as some pundits called it at the time.

Corruption was rife, as was violence.

I quickly learned that

the measure of a businessman’s

power and prestige

was reflected by the number of bodyguards he had.  

I’d been told to be cautious, careful,

but otherwise, I didn’t need to fear,

so the next day, Sunday, I went walking.

I walked around the Kremlin, Red Square,

and Lenin’s tomb.

It was a beautiful fall day

and the city teemed with people out and about.

Suddenly I realized that I was surrounded

by a group of boys,

young boys, the oldest perhaps 12,

6 of them, maybe 8,

all around me,

closing a circle as we walked.

In an instant, one boy tripped me

and I went down,

and as soon as I hit the ground,

another boy put his hand

in my pants pocket fishing for money,

a wallet, whatever he might find.

He grabbed the currency I had in that pocket,

pulled it out,

showed it with obvious delight to his gang,

and then off they ran.

It all happened in a matter of a minute.

I was not hurt –

either by the boys or by the fall.

I got up, and dusted myself off.

I had not lost my wallet or passport.

I’d learned from traveling over the years

to separate my cash from my wallet;

I always kept my wallet and passport

in an inside coat pocket.

The boys had found about 50 dollars

in US currency in my pocket,

a modest loss for me,

but in those days in Moscow,

a great haul for the boys.

I started to walk back toward the hotel,

and after just a few steps

I could feel a wave of fear wash over me,

fear as I had never felt it before.

Suddenly everyone around me

was someone who frightened me,

everyone a potential threat.

Even a young couple pushing a stroller

unnerved me.

A group of young boys had attacked me,

mugged me,

taken money from me,

and even though I was physically fine,

I was shaken,

I was afraid.

Fear held me in its grip

for the remainder of my time in Moscow.

It held on even as I traveled to St. Petersburg.

It didn’t start to let go until

my plane from St. Petersburg

touched down in Vienna,

where I then caught a flight

back to New York.

Fear is insidious.

Fear grips us, grabs hold,

overwhelms us.

Fear in countless forms:

Fear of the dentist;

fear of lightning,

fear of a snarling dog,

fear of shadows and darkness,

fear of speaking in public,

fear of the different, the strange,

the unfamiliar.

Fear is an emotion hardwired into us,

hardwired for good reason:

we should be fearful of

the coiled snake about to strike,

the approaching hurricane—

fear can help us protect ourselves.

But fear can also be our undoing.

Fear can grip us and drain our sense,

our logic,

our best impulses,

as it did me in Moscow.

And fear can all too easily

lead us to its favorite partner: hate.

The Reverend Ted Loder speaks of

the furies of hate and fear,

furies that can grip us,

pit us one against another:

Christian against Muslim,

Black against White,

Immigrant against citizen.

In another time,

Americans against the Soviets.

As followers of Jesus Christ,

what are we to do?

What are we to do with

the furies of hate and fear?

We know we are called to love, forgive,

accept, embrace,

but how can we

when the furies have hold of us?

Reverend Loder offers us just what we need—

a prayer:

“Strengthen us, O Lord,

to walk and work,

pray and speak,

to confront the furies of hate and fear…”

Strengthen us, O Lord,

as your children,

and as disciples of your Son

to confront the furies of hate and fear,

confront them and

strip them of their power,

their hold over us,

that we might be ambassadors

for reconciliation,

forgiveness,

peace;

that we might be ambassadors of Christ.

Election season tends to unleash

the furies of hate and fear,

along with the third member

of the troika: ignorance.

Politicians of all stripes

have always found fear an effective tool.

Go back to 1964 and we can find

what is probably the textbook example

of a political advertisement

designed to evoke and stoke fear:

the famous “Daisy” ad,

an ad in support of Lyndon Johnson’s candidacy

against Barry Goldwater.

It is an ad that begins with an adorable girl,

all of 5 years old,

plucking a daisy of its petals,

counting – “1, 2, 3…”

Her voice gives way to a man’s voice,

counting as well,

but counting down:…”3, 2, 1”,

and then the blinding flash and

the horrifying mushroom cloud of a nuclear explosion;

a stentorian voice then leading us

to the obvious conclusion:

who do you trust

when you are filled with fear?

It was an ad built on fear,

fear and hatred,

fear and hatred of the Soviets,

hatred of those “godless commies”

who we knew, just knew,

back in the 1960s,

were ready to reduce us to ash and cinder.

And also, of course,

fear of having the wrong person

in charge to watch over us.

“Strengthen us, O Lord,

to walk and work

pray and speak,

live and love

confronting the furies of hatred and fear.”

Fear not, says the Lord.

Trust God.

Trust God even when things look bleakest,

even hopeless:

“Even though I walk through

the Valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil;

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff—

they comfort me.”

(Psalm 23:4)

God’s words to the young Joshua

as he took on Moses’ mantle,

are words for us, as well:

“Be strong and courageous;

do not be frightened or dismayed,

for the Lord your God is with you

wherever you go.”

(Joshua 1:9)

For as much comfort as we draw

from the familiar words of Psalm 23,

there are words for me

that I have always found

even more comforting,

words that melt my fears,

words from God through the prophet Isaiah:

“But now …says the Lord,

he who created you, …,

he who formed you, …:

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

I have called you by name,

you are mine.

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

and through the rivers,

they shall not overwhelm you;

when you walk through fire

you shall not be burned,

and the flame shall not consume you.

For I am the Lord your God,

the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

…You are precious in my sight,

and honored,

and I love you,

…Do not fear,

for I am with you;

Do not fear,

…I am with you.”

(Isaiah 43)

It is unlikely that Franklin Roosevelt

thought he was making a theological statement

in his first inaugural address in 1933,

but in a way he was when he said,

“…the only thing we have to fear

is fear itself…”

We should fear fear,

for it is often

“unreasoning and unjustified.”

We should fear fear,

because it can lead us to judgment,

to anger,

to violence.

to hatred.

Fear gets between us and God,

us and Christ.

And the distance grows wider

when fear takes us down the road

to anger, hatred.

As the Psalmist once sang,

“The Lord… delivered me from all my fears.

Look to him, and be radiant;

…With the Lord on my side I do not fear.

What can mortals do to me?

(Psalms 34:4; also 118:6; 56)

Someday I hope to go back to Moscow,

and when I do, I’ll walk around again,

a little wiser,

but certainly not fearful.

Someday I also hope to go back to

the boardwalk in Nice,

where I once spent a pleasant afternoon

while I was traveling

in between my junior and senior year in college,

a place recently marked by horror,

death and destruction.

When I go, I will not fear,

I will not hate.

Someday I also hope to go back to Munich,

where I also have been,

and when I go,

I will not let the furies of fear and hate

take hold of me.  

On the night of his arrest,

our Lord knew his disciples were filled

with a sense of foreboding,

filled with anxiety,

filled with worry,

filled with fear.

So our Lord said to them:

“Peace I leave with you;

my peace I give to you.

I do not give to you as the world gives.

Do not let your hearts be troubled,

and do not let them be afraid.”

(John 14:27)

As Eugene Peterson words it in “The Message”,

Jesus left his disciples “well and whole”

Jesus leaves us “well and whole”.

The theologian Reinhold Neibuhr wrote,

“For all [our] centuries of experience,

[we] have not yet learned how to live together

without compounding [our] vices

and covering each other

with mud and with blood.”

(Moral Man, Immoral Society)

And we most certainly

“compound our vices”

when we give in to

the furies of fear and hatred.

The Lord is my light and my salvation;

whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life;

of whom shall I be afraid?...

…I believe that I shall see

the goodness of the Lord

in the land of the living….

Wait for the Lord;

be strong,

and let your heart take courage;
wait for the Lord!

(Psalm 27)

AMEN