Don’t Be Afraid

Wednesday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time
July 5, 2023

Today’s Readings:

https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/070523.cfm

Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our readings encourage us not to be afraid.

“Do not be afraid”, or one of its many forms (e.g. “take courage”, “be at peace”), is a phrase that appears frequently in scripture. It is often uttered by God. And it usually occurs at a point of human desperation but spiritual opportunity for the one who actually is afraid.


Today, Genesis offers us the story of Hagar, the enslaved concubine of Abraham and mother of his eldest son Ishmael. Hagar draws the fearful scorn of Sarah after Sarah bears Isaac. Sarah is afraid that the older boy, Ismael, will inherit what she wants only for her own son. Sarah forces Abraham to send Hagar away as our passage today describes:

Sarah noticed the son whom Hagar the Egyptian
had borne to Abraham
playing with her son Isaac;
so she demanded of Abraham:
“Drive out that slave and her son!
No son of that slave is going to share the inheritance
with my son Isaac!”

Genesis 21:9-10

Sarah is worried about Abraham’s material legacy, but God knows there is an infinitely greater endowment to be left to the children of Abraham. God does not limit that promise to Isaac alone:

God said to Abraham: “Do not be distressed about the boy
or about your slave woman.
Heed the demands of Sarah, no matter what she is asking of you;
for it is through Isaac that descendants shall bear your name.
As for the son of the slave woman,
I will make a great nation of him also,
since he too is your offspring.”

Gemesis 21:12-13

Poor Hagar trods off into the desert with baby Ismael where, finally bereft of water, food, and energy she sits down near some bushes to die.

As she sat opposite Ishmael, he began to cry.
God heard the boy’s cry,
and God’s messenger called to Hagar from heaven:
“What is the matter, Hagar?
Don’t be afraid; God has heard the boy’s cry in this plight of his.
Arise, lift up the boy and hold him by the hand;
for I will make of him a great nation.”
Then God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water.
She went and filled the skin with water, and then let the boy drink.

Genesis 21:14-19

God opened Hagar’s eyes and she could see the means of her survival – a fresh well in the desert.

“Seeing” is a key reflection point of this passage. When no one else cared to see Hagar as a person, God saw her. When Hagar was at the very edge of existence, her spiritual eyes were cleared and she saw God.

This passage from Genesis invites us to reflect on:

  • times we have felt “invisible” or afraid in our lives, and how that circumstance may have offered us a new understanding of God
  • times when we have been blind to the fear or desperation of others who needed us to notice their marginalization

Hagar, (like Adam, Abraham, Jonah, David, Ruth), is an archetype of the Hebrew Scriptures. Yet her powerful story often takes second place to those of the great ancestors, just as she herself took second place to Sarah in the Abrahamic canon. I found an excellent article about Hagar as I prepared this reflection. If you would like to read it, the link is below.


Poetry: I Return to the Church – Carolyn Marie Rogers

I like this poem because it speaks to me of the appreciation which grows in us as we mature in faith and experience. The poet seems to have passed through a “desert”, from youth to a later age. It is only then that she recognizes all the grace she did not “see” in her earlier life.


Spoons of love and
grace, mushy with mercy,
like oatmeal in a bowl
hushes my mouth into
sugary sweet solemnity.
A neophyte’s reverence.
Holiness. Me. God’s witness
recipient.
A finger to make a cross
across my lips.
And is this love?
Oh yes, this is love
when I come, returned from
the world from walking through
hells, my hungry years.
Hunger that is called youth
looking for rainbows, promised
lands, edens, and paradises.
Only to find it all
that I left behind, that
I could not see like Hagar.
And I did not
even know the word,
desert.

Music: Hagar’s Song – Sue Hahn, writer; Amanda Hopper, vocalist (lyrics below)


A life of injustice is all I have known.
Shamed and mistreated I’ve never been loved.
My dignity’s taken. I finally fled
alone and forsaken in this wilderness

You speak my name like you really know me.
You ask where I’ve come from 
and where I am going
You tell me return, there is no need to run.
You give me your blessing, a name for my son.

You are the God who sees me.
You are the God who hears me.
You keep all your promises.
You know all my fears.
You met me in my wilderness
wandering in despair.
I will choose to trust and obey.
You are the God who cares.

Now we are abandoned, 
a wasteland to roam.
My son won’t survive here,
nowhere to call home.
Life seems so hopeless.
We’ve cried all we can.
I thought you’d protect us .
Did I misunderstand?

You speak my name,
“Hagar, Don’t Be Afraid”.
You’ve seen all our tears 
and your plan hasn’t changed.
They’ve reawakened, 
you open my eyes.
A well in the desert proves
You will provide.

You are the God who sees me.
You are the God who hears me
You keep promises.
You know all my fears.
You met me in my wilderness
wandering in despair.
I will choose to trust and obey.
You are the God who cares
This is not the path I would have chosen
but it’s the one that led me straight to You.
Just when I was sure my life was over
You retold my story with your truth.
You see me; You know me.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
you see me and you know me
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Wednesday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time

June 30, 2021

Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 34. We do so in the light of our first reading which tells us the heart-wrenching story of Hagar. 

As Hagar sat opposite Ishmael, he began to cry.
God heard the boy’s cry,
and God’s messenger called to Hagar from heaven:
“What is the matter, Hagar?
Don’t be afraid; God has heard the boy’s cry in this plight of his.
Arise, lift up the boy and hold him by the hand;
for I will make of him a great nation.”
Then God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water.
She went and filled the skin with water, and then let the boy drink.

Genesis 21: 15-19

Surely Hagar, and her baby Ishmael, are “poor ones” whose cries the Lord hears.

When the poor ones called out, the LORD heard,
and from all distress saved them.
The angel of the LORD encamps
around those who fear God, and delivers them.

Psalm 34: 7-8

Hagar is the embodiment of a faith that has surrendered everything to God. She is pressed to it by the circumstances of her life. But even in that press, she has a choice: God or godlessness. 

God sees her heart choice and opens her eyes to its power:

Then God opened her eyes,
and she saw a well of water.
She went and filled the skin with water,
and then let the boy drink.

The revelation I take from today’s readings?

Even in our deepest thirsts, there is a “well of water” awaiting us when we live in faith and reverence for God:

Fear the LORD, you holy ones,
for nought is lacking to those who fear God.
The great grow poor and hungry;
but those who seek God want for no good thing.

Psalm 34: 10-11

Poetry: Hagar in the Wilderness by Tyehimba Jess

My God is the living God,
God of the impertinent exile.
An outcast who carved me
into an outcast carved
by sheer and stony will
to wander the desert
in search of deliverance
the way a mother hunts
for her wayward child.
God of each eye fixed to heaven,
God of the fallen water jug,
of all the hope a vessel holds
before spilling to barren sand.
God of flesh hewn from earth
and hammered beneath a will
immaculate with the power
to bear life from the lifeless
like a well in a wasteland.
I'm made in the image of a God
that knows flight but stays me
rock still to tell a story ancient as
slavery, old as the first time
hands clasped together for mercy
and parted to find only their own
salty blessing of sweat.
I have been touched by my God
in my creation, I've known her caress
of anointing callus across my face. 
I know the lyric of her pulse
across these lips...  and yes,
I've kissed the fingertips
of my dark and mortal God.
She has shown me the truth
behind each chiseled blow
that's carved me into this life,
the weight any woman might bear 
to stretch her mouth toward her
one true God, her own
beaten, marble song.
sculptor: Edmonia Lewis (1845-1907), an African/Native American expatriate who was phenomenally successful in Rome.

Music: El Roi (Hagar’s Song)