One of the great trends that I have observed in my lifetime is the scarification of October. As we enter the month which ends with Halloween, we see that the scariest movies are put into the theatres and on television; haunted houses and terrifying thrill-rides at theme parks do big business; and trick-or-treaters wear ever more gruesome costumes.
What gives? I have a quirky theory. I think it comes down to the difference between acute and chronic anxiety. Acute anxiety is caused by a sudden fright that quickly goes away. Chronic anxiety lingers indefinitely.    I experience acute anxiety when I can‘t find my keys for a few minutes, but then remember where I left them. When I am diagnosed with, say, diabetes, and know I will have to deal with it for the rest of my life, my anxiety is chronic.
My hunch is that we are all living through a time of growing chronic anxiety. We all know that the world economy is in serious trouble, even if here in Central Nebraska we have been relatively spared. We know that families are under more and more stress. We know that the government and other institutions—including the church— are not as respected or as effective as they used to be.    We know that our lives could be disrupted or ended by any number of unforeseen catastrophes: a new plague, debilitating disease, environmental disaster, economic collapse, or war.
It‘s only natural that we prefer to distract ourselves from chronic anxieties by deliberately exposing ourselves to passing moments of acute fear—hence the popularity of scary movies, thrill rides, and gruesome costumes.
We could  ‘shame, shame‘ and fondly remembering some hypothetical good-old days—although I‘m guessing that those among us with memories of the Great Depression and World War II would wonder how we would deal if we were posed, as they were in their generation, with a double dose of very real acute and chronic anxieties at the same time.  Or we could remember who we are and—more importantly—whose we are. We are Christians. We are friends, followers, disciples, and soldiers of Christ. Jesus has already met and mastered our fears. Every one of our acute anxieties was concentrated on the cross. What greater chronic anxiety is there than the sin of the world for which he shed his blood?
With every step we take in our journey with Jesus, with every increase in the quality and character of our relationship with Christ, we overcome the fears that paralyze and distract us. Faith is the existence in our hearts of a space into which the Spirit of God brings courage and peace. And it is only through people with courage and peace that the chronic anxieties of our times can be overcome by the eternal hope that is in Christ.
Jesus is Lord: Rejoice! Jesus is Lord: Fear not! Jesus is Lord: Win!
See you in church. Stephen