Whenever an angel shows up in a sacred text, the first thing they say is, “Be not afraid.” This is akin to a doctor’s visit that begins, “Why don’t you sit down before we talk about these test results?”
Angels tell people not to be afraid because the next thing they’re going say is sure to make anyone fearful: they usually bring good news but you don’t want to hear it, because it’s good news that will cost you. In the Christmas stories, all five angelic visitations were to warn folks that their life had just moved beyond their control.
The angel-voiced musician, Jacob Collier, explores human fear in his song “Little Blue.” “Don’t be afraid of the dark,” he sings. He lays out the news: “In your heart, you’re gonna find a way to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.” Almost as an afterthought, he concludes, “You’re gonna find your way home.”
Over the past week, I have been pondering these lyrics with the attention I usually give to sacred scripture. They contradict my understanding of good mental health, where you’re told NOT to carry the weight of the world. But because they ring true somewhere inside of me, I’ve wanted to consider them carefully.
There is an inherent assumption—in Collier’s song, in the message of the religious tradition I follow, and in contemporary scientific thinking—that we do carry the weight of the world, and it’s better to do so consciously than unconsciously. The theory of entanglement means that we are each affected by the greater world even when we can’t, or don’t want to, recognize that impact.
Add to entanglement the fact that humans are hard-wired for fear. We will instinctually turn from perceived difference or pain. So it’s no wonder that in this time of 24/7 opinions and universal suffering, we might just feel overwhelmed. Intentionally carrying that grief may feel like a horrifying burden. But unacknowledged, these myriad sorrows congeal into a heart darkness that shows up as the thoughts we avoid, the conversations we won’t have, the nightmares we don’t want to remember. Only when we face into fear will we find the heart we need to carry our part, live in joy.
It’s worth noting that there is always more to angelic messages than the admonition “Fear not” and the delivery of a miserable burden. Angels conclude their life-shattering proclamations by reminding us that the Holy will be, and already is, with us. We will not face this deep unsettling alone. Jacob Collier says the same thing differently, when he finishes that chorus by singing, “You’re gonna find your way home.”
When we face into the dark scary parts, when we accept and even rejoice in our entanglement, when we are willing to shoulder sorrows, that’s coming home. That’s what Collier says, and pretty much what the angels promise, too. “Don’t be afraid, but here’s a difficult bit of reality to face,” they proclaim. “Here also is the grace of God.”
Our true home is the place where these realities coincide.