“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”
I John 4:18

This is a difficult time for many groups in our country. With both Antisemitism and Islamophobia  on the rise,  it has got to be hard to be an American Jew or an American Muslim today.  Our college campuses  bear evidence of the turmoil.

Palestinian Americans are crushed by the devastation they see in Gaza and the stories of relatives and friends who live there.   Or  are among those have died since the war began.

Jewish Americans carry the weight of the Hamas attack, with hostages taken and unspeakable things done to women. Concerned about relatives and friends in Israel, they struggle with the scrutiny of the world community on Israel’s response, and it’s 34,000 Palestinian deaths.

During the worst of the pandemic it was difficult to be an Asian American, where, whatever one’s actual ethnic background, there was danger of being confronted by an irate person, blaming  Asian Americans for bringing Covid here.

Our fear of others can get in the way of love. Fear can mess us up. The Biblical book  of I John, talks about perfect love casting out all fear – but what does perfect fear do to love?

Fear of others makes it difficult to love. It destroys our empathy and drives out love. Fear leaves no room for compassion, mercy or kindness.  Fear can blind us to another’s humanity.

We live in a fragile time, where forces pit us against each other. Culture wars are used to gain political advantage and to divide us. We live in a time when “in your face” is acceptable and cheered and where cruelty has displaced God’s word of love.

The prayer of St. Francis speaks to me, as we navigate our differences, avoid culture wars and choose instead to be  people who are givers of grace. In this beautiful expression of faithfulness, he wrote:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.

May it be so.