Introduction
At first glance, this Gospel reading can feel like a patchwork of mini sermons: “Do not be afraid.” “Sell your possessions.” “Be dressed for action.” “The Son of Man is coming like a thief.” It’s easy for preachers (and congregations) to wonder: what exactly is Jesus asking of us here? Are we meant to prepare for some end-time moment, to give everything away, or to be on red-alert spiritual watch at every moment of the day?
But Luke gives us a cue that helps us hold all of these pieces together: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” That is not a throwaway reassurance. It is a theological and pastoral key that unlocks the rest of the passage.
“Do Not Be Afraid”: When God Says It, Brace Yourself
This phrase is deeply embedded in Luke’s Gospel. It’s what the angel tells Mary just before she’s told she’ll carry the Messiah. It’s what the shepherds hear before they’re told about Jesus’ birth. It’s what Peter hears after the miraculous catch of fish—and just before he’s told that he’ll now be catching people.
In Luke, “do not be afraid” isn’t about comfort—it’s about calling. It marks the threshold of transformation, a before-and-after moment where God shows up, breaks in, and nothing is the same.
So when Jesus begins today’s teaching with this phrase, we might rightly assume something disruptive is coming. And that’s exactly what follows.
The Disruption of God’s Kin-dom
Jesus tells us that God’s deepest joy is to give us the kingdom. That’s not just future promise. It’s present reality. This kingdom (or as some prefer, kin-dom, emphasizing its relational, communal nature) is not built on power, security, or status, but on vulnerability, grace, and shared abundance.
The command to “sell your possessions and give alms” isn’t just an economic directive. It’s a spiritual one. “Let go of what insulates you.” (Remember we are just after last week’s parable of the abundant landowner). To Luke’s point, possessions can isolate us, create buffers between us and our neighbors, and help us pretend that we are self-sufficient. But the kingdom Jesus offers only takes root when those buffers come down.
What We’re Waiting For Is Already Here
Much of this passage seems to focus on watchfulness: be ready, keep your lamps lit, stay alert. But here’s the twist, the kingdom has already come. Again, all of this is tied together. We just heard Luke’s version of the Lord’s prayer two weeks ago. “Your Kingdom Come.” We are praying for its imminent inbreaking in each and every moment.
In Luke’s Gospel, the inbreaking of God happens in the most unexpected places: a teenage mother, a hillside of shepherds, a lakeshore with worn-out fishermen. The Son of Man comes not just at the end of time, but like a thief in the night, breaking in when we least expect it.
This isn’t about staying up all night in anxious vigilance. It’s about cultivating attentiveness to the places where Christ is already showing up: in the hungry, the hurting, the hopeful. In the stranger, the immigrant, the protester, the addict, the person we’ve written off or feared.
The Radical Joy (and Terror) of Receiving the Kingdom
Jesus says it is God’s joy to give us the kingdom. But if we’re honest, that joy is also a little terrifying. Because it means we can’t live the way we used to.
To receive this kingdom means learning to live without a fear that holds us back. That doesn’t mean living recklessly. It means living freely. Free to love. Free to forgive. Free to give ourselves away in a world that insists we protect ourselves above all else.
The kingdom of God calls us to trust in divine abundance, not scarcity. To embrace community, not self-reliance. To choose hope over cynicism, grace over judgment, welcome over walls.
Preaching Possibilities
First: Lean into the Tension
Don’t rush to resolve the juxtaposition of comfort (“do not be afraid”) and urgency (“be dressed for action”). Let your people feel the discomfort and ask the question: What am I afraid of losing?
Second: Reclaim the Radical Nature of “Do Not Be Afraid”
In our preaching, we often treat “Do not be afraid” like a comforting lullaby, a kind of spiritual sedative to calm our nerves. But in Luke’s Gospel, it’s not a lullaby. It’s a wake-up call.
“Do not be afraid” is God’s way of saying, “Get ready, because I’m about to turn your life upside down.”
Fear itself isn’t the enemy. Fear is natural. It’s human. It’s a survival response. But left unchecked, fear has a way of moving from instinct to ideology. It becomes a lens through which we view others. With suspicion, with defensiveness, with distance.
When fear isolates us, when it causes us to hoard, to gatekeep, to shut down. And that’s when it becomes an obstacle to the Gospel. And that’s precisely what Jesus is naming and unseating in this passage.
Because Jesus is not calling us into isolation, self-protection, or hyper-vigilance. He’s calling us toward something much riskier: vulnerability. Toward community. Toward trust in a kingdom where we do not have to secure our worth or our safety on our own terms.
And this is what’s life changing. We have to move past the worldly message and choose a different way.
“Sell your possessions and give alms.”
“Make purses that do not wear out.”
“Be ready to open the door when the master knocks.”
These are not commands meant to induce fear, but to disarm it. Jesus is showing us that the kingdom of God is not found in our control or security, but in the places where we open ourselves up to others.
Preaching this theme means naming the way fear is weaponized in our world: to keep people out, to divide neighborhoods, to silence voices, to justify injustice. And it means proclaiming that the kingdom of God breaks in precisely where fear is unmasked and love is unleashed.
So, what would it look like for us to hear “Do not be afraid” not as a comfort blanket, but as permission.
Permission to let go.
Permission to live generously.
Permission to trust that the world doesn’t rest on our power, but on God’s grace.
“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”
In other words: You don’t have to be afraid anymore. The kingdom isn’t a reward you have to secure; it’s a gift you’re already being given. So, let’s stop guarding the door and start opening it.
Micah Krey 
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