Have No Fear

Hey everyone, this is Josh from Encounter Church Henley and thanks so much for tuning

into our podcast.

Our prayer is that through this podcast you can have an encounter with Jesus that will

change your life.

And now get ready for an inspiring message from our preaching team.

Hello Encounter Henley.

How are you today in this very hot weather?

I don't know about you but my berks have turned into a slip and slide from the heat.

Well, before we start today I'd just like to open in prayer so if we could all close

our eyes and bow our heads and join me in prayer.

Lord Jesus we come before you today with hearts open to your word and minds ready to receive

your truth.

Thank you for gathering us here as your people drawn together by your love and grace.

As we reflect on the message you have prepared for us today may your spirit move powerfully

in this place.

Speak to us.

Lord soften the hard places within us.

Calm our fears and remind us of your unwavering presence.

May we leave here not only encouraged but transformed knowing that you are at work in us and through

us.

In Jesus' name we pray.

Amen.

I think we can do better than that.

My three year olds can say amen with more passion and power than that.

Let's try again.

In Jesus' name everyone said amen.

That's better.

Oh my goodness.

Well let me start with a little story.

When I was younger around 13 or 14 just to let you know that I was a highly active kid

and I had a small streak of perfectionism, maybe actually a lot of perfectionism and

a hecton of motivation.

I grew up in a military family which meant that I had a strict household and a healthy

fear of consequences was instilled in me from a young age.

So with that in mind let me tell you about the time I tried to teach myself a gymnastics

walkover.

Now a walkover is like your body's way of saying gravity I respect you but not today.

It's a blend of gymnastic elegance and sheer defiance of physics.

First you kick up into a handstand, I'm talking hands on the ground, legs in the air and then

you tip forward like a graceful human seesaw, trying to trust your hands to catch you as

your legs fly over in a scissor kick, all in slow motion.

Finally if all goes well your feet will land on the ground, your body straightens up and

you try to look nonchalant like you weren't just seconds away from looking like a pancake.

It's part acrobatics, part yoga and 100% confidence builder if you could get it correct or an

ego checker if you landed on the floor.

Fueled by my memories of a single gymnastics lesson, one singular gymnastics lesson at

the age of seven I started practicing.

I used the back of old convertibles at school, at recess and lunch I spent all my time trying

to get this trick.

One afternoon I was so determined to get this that I decided that the perfect practice spot

was a blank wall in my house.

It was a very smart move I made, I kept away from my mum's fine china and chose that blank

space in the wall.

I kicked up into a handstand, got past vertical and instead of landing my feet on the floor

my feet went through the wall.

I was absolutely mortified that I had put a hole in the wall and panic set in.

Desperate to cover up my mistake, I took the chairs from outside, the foldable ones and

brought them inside to cover the hole strategically.

No one would know.

It seemed like a really brilliant plan, putting those outside chairs inside and it did work

for less than 24 hours.

The next day I was at school I was absolutely consumed with fear, dreading the moment I

would come home to a mother that would not be impressed with my actions.

The fear of coming home knowing that I'd face my family's reaction was almost unbearable

and I was pretty sure that the unusual sight of outdoor chairs inside would draw the wrong

kind of attention and boy was I correct.

Little did I know that that afternoon my mother did in fact notice the outside chairs were

inside and found my giant foothold in the wall that I left behind.

In regards to my consequence as well, I'm going to leave that up to your imagination.

The tension of coming home when things aren't quite right is something that many of us feel

especially at Christmas time and it's one of the reasons Christmas carries so much

weight.

The season brings to mind the idea of coming home to family, to traditions, to familiar

places.

There is a pressure to seem like we have everything under control, to meet expectations, to win

the approval of family members and we find ourselves stressing over picking the perfect

gifts, creating the illusion that everything is fine, concealing our flaws and the times

that we almost missed the mark.

The fear of not being good enough gnaws at us especially in those quiet moments in the

car before pulling up to Christmas lunch.

There's no better way to increase the heart rate than that drive to family Christmas lunch,

am I right?

Christmas time is not only the time where fear precedes peace.

In our culture today, fear seems to be a constant undercurrent.

We live in a world where anxiety and worry have become almost commonplace.

Many of us carry this deep fear of getting things wrong, of making mistakes that might

have lasting consequences.

Grant Herbert, an emotional intelligence and leadership expert, has introduced the idea

that there are three universal fears which sit at the heart of human experience.

Number one, the fear of not being good enough.

Number two, the fear of not belonging.

And number three, the fear of not being loved.

These fears resonate deeply across humanity, shaping how we see ourselves and others.

These fears connect us all.

Even the story of the shepherds that we will explore in our story today, fear has a strong

grip on our world today.

And it's no wonder that even children are feeling the weight of anxiety.

Leon Blue states that in Australia about one in four people will experience an anxiety

disorder at some point in their lives.

And if we look at that statistic, there's one quarter of this room.

This statistic is just those who have been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder.

And it's not even including those who live undiagnosed or who simply just live anxious

lives.

Whether it's the pressure to succeed, concerns about relationships, or worries about global

issues like economics instability and climate change, the burden of fear can be overwhelming.

This anxiety often leaves us feeling like imposters, always striving but never truly

at peace.

In a society consumed by fear, it's clear that we need an antidote to break free from

its hold.

When we encounter God's presence, his peace will quiet our fears.

Just as I feared coming home that day with a hole in the wall, many of us fear coming

face to face with our own shortcomings.

We fear judgment, rejection, or the realization that we don't have it all together.

That same kind of fear is reflected in the Christmas story when we look at the shepherds

in Luke.

The scripture says, and in that region there were shepherds out in the fields, keeping

watch over their flock by night.

An angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them and

they were filled with fear.

Fear took a hold of them, fear of the unknown, fear of God's overwhelming presence, but

the angels' first words to the shepherds were fear not.

It's part of the human experience and it's a very human tendency to fear that makes

the message of Christmas so profound.

It's a season that reminds us that we don't have to let fear define us.

It's an invitation to come closer, to witness the birth of Jesus.

In Jesus' fear turns to peace.

In Jesus, God offers a way home that doesn't depend on us getting everything right.

Now if you're anything like me, you might know that the Christmas story is actually

a collection of stories from the four gospels.

I definitely thought until a couple weeks ago that the Christmas story was packaged

together in a nice neat bow, but much of my surprise, the wise men and the shepherds

are actually in two separate gospels.

So if you're anything like me, I didn't know that.

Very mind blown.

In Luke's account, and only in Luke's account of the Christmas story, you find the shepherds

in the field and of all people, they are the first to receive a heavenly announcement of

Jesus' birth.

Now the author of the Gospel of Luke is Luke Wadashaka.

Known for his meticulous attention to detail, Luke was believed to have been a companion

of Paul, a skilled physician and a highly educated individual with an extensive vocabulary.

Given his thoughtful and deliberate academic writing style, it raises the important question,

why did Luke include the detail of the shepherds in his narrative of the Christmas story?

What significance does their inclusion hold for his readers?

Now to answer these questions, we need to look back at the reality of life of shepherds

in ancient Israel.

Now I picture shepherds with peaceful pastoral scenes, working with sheep in a serene countryside.

Now think of a specific Aussie TV show about farmers meeting their future wives.

But that is a far cry from the shepherds at the time of Jesus' birth.

During the time of the early prophets Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Israel bore the influence

of its nomadic heritage.

Because of this, shepherding was considered a central and honorable occupation to have

at the time as a partial society that Israelites depended on sheep and goats for food, clothing,

and trade, and also religious sacrifices.

And in those days shepherds had a really vital role in caring for and protecting these animals.

A shepherd's role was essential to daily life in ancient Israel.

But moving forward to the time of Moses, the Israelites had settled in Egypt, where the

Egyptians looked down on shepherding for both cultural and practical reasons.

In Egyptian society, wealth and stability were tied to settled agriculture, which is

otherwise known as farming.

And this symbolized order and success.

It was the foundation of their advanced civilization, not to mention that the sheep and cattle grazing

put critical crops at risk.

In contrast, shepherding was viewed as a less refined way of life, often linked to groups

living on the outskirts of society.

Among the Israelite shepherds were considered lower class because their work kept them isolated

from towns and temple rituals, making them unclean by Jewish standards.

Their transient lifestyle also led to mistrust, with shepherds sometimes accused of trespassing

or theft.

At the time of Jesus' birth, the longstanding cultural disdain for shepherds and the occupation

still lingered.

So knowing this, why then were the shepherds, who were despised, considered unclean, lower

class and often seen as sinners, among the first to hear the news of Jesus' birth?

Well, to discover the answer to this question, we need to look back to the scripture.

In the scripture it says, in the same region, shepherds were out staying in the fields

and keeping watch at night over their flock, then the angel of the Lord stood before them

and the glory of the Lord shone around them and they were terrified.

The fear that the shepherds experienced at the angel's appearance was likely a two-fold,

both natural and human reaction to encountering the divine and a deeper inner fear tied to

their societal status.

Being the glory of God's messenger surrounded by heavenly light would have been overwhelming

for anyone.

I get overwhelmed by seeing our bank accounts after Christmas, let alone being exposed to

something so divine.

So I too would be picking my jaw up off the ground.

However, for the shepherds this fear was likely magnified by their own sense of unworthiness.

As a despised and marginalised group, the shepherds were accustomed to being overlooked

and undervalued.

They were viewed as sinners and outcasts unfit for any sacred or holy moments.

This separation from anxiety, from society, left them feeling spiritually inadequate, believing

they could never measure up to the standards of a society that tied their worth to temple

rituals.

To suddenly find themselves face to face with God's messenger may have reached deep into

their inner fears.

Why would God choose us?

Are we worthy to receive such a message, let alone be in the presence of a Saviour?

Will we be judged for our uncleanliness or our lowly status?

Now Luke's inclusion of the shepherds underscores a major theme in his gospel that God's salvation

through Jesus is for everyone.

It reveals God's intentional choice to reveal his message to the humble and the marginalised

and highlights the inclusive and transformative nature of the gospel.

A message of peace and joy meant for all people regardless of their social standing.

This reassurance of the angel's message broke through the shepherd's fear and not only brought

them a sense of peace but affirmed their value, showing that in God's eyes they were not

just included but they were actually honoured as a first to hear the news of Jesus' birth.

The fear the shepherds experienced that night standing in the presence of the divine reflects

a reality that we still face today.

Fear is all around us.

Our world today is deeply shaped by pressures to present a flawless image and to perform

as though we have everything perfectly together.

Social media, workplace expectations and cultural norms amplify this pressure, encouraging people

to curate their lives to appear successful, happy and in control.

It's no wonder that the constant comparison to others highlights reels can leave many

feeling inadequate as though they are falling short of an unspoken standard.

There's an emphasis on achieving visible success, having the right career, relationships,

appearance and lifestyle all while hiding the struggles, failures or imperfections.

A relentless demand for perfection means admitting weakness, making mistakes or showing the messier

side of life often feels risky.

In a world where our worth is too often measured by our performance and presentation.

When I think back to the time as a 13 year old it really connects to the pressure we

all feel to present a perfect image and the fear of being seen as flawed or failing, something

I've definitely struggled with and I know many others do.

As a motivated and slightly perfectionist teenager, the idea of making a mistake felt

catastrophic, when I put that hole in the wall my biggest fear wasn't actually just

the punishment but it was the thought of being exposed for messing up.

It was like I wasn't just trying to hide the hole, I was trying to cover up the fact that

I didn't have it all together, I wasn't perfect at what I was trying to do.

The three universal fears that we explored earlier can also be seen in the scripture

today.

For the shepherds, at the time of Jesus' birth, these fears took on a specific form.

So the fear of not being good enough was mirrored in their sense of unworthiness.

Their occupation made them unworthy among society and they were living as outcasts and

were often regarded as untrustworthy and insignificant.

Now the fear of not belonging is reflected in their exclusion from religious and social

circles heightened by their occupation which rendered them unclean.

And lastly the fear of not being loved is tied to the terror of being exposed or found

out, revealing their flaws and feeling unworthy of God's acceptance.

But instead of judgement, they were met with those incredible words, fear not.

Simple words with a profound meaning and impact.

Being today as someone who still grapples with perfectionism, I often approach my relationship

with God through the lens of performance.

There's a part of me that constantly strives to measure up to get everything right and

to present myself as someone who has it all together.

The perfectionist tendencies that began as a young child are still very much present

in me today.

It's like part of me is still trying to desperately hide the holes, to conceal the mistakes and

to make sure nothing is exposed that might show that I'm not perfect.

I often feel like I have to prove myself as if I need to earn God's love or somehow make

myself worthy of His grace.

It's not always easy to rest in the truth that God's love isn't contingent on my ability

to perform perfectly.

There's this constant tug-of-war in my heart where I know in my head that I am loved unconditionally

yet my heart still feels the weight of striving.

I fear that if I make a mistake or fail to live up to what I think I should be, it might

change how God sees me.

I wonder if you have ever felt like you are hiding parts of yourself from God, fearing

that He wouldn't accept you if He knew your flaws or mistakes.

I wonder if you've ever felt a barrier of fear holding you back from truly coming to

God as if something deep inside is keeping you at a distance.

It's because of these three universal fears really deeply impact our relationship with

God.

When we don't feel worthy, loved or accepted, we tend to put God at a distance.

We build walls around ourselves hoping that He won't see the real us, the messy, imperfect

parts.

We fear our unworthy of His love.

In our hearts we long for a miracle that if we don't reveal our true selves, maybe just

maybe, He will still love us.

But this is not how it's supposed to be.

I hope you know that, that this is not how it's supposed to be.

It didn't intend for us to spend our lives in fear, hiding the shadows in the shadows

of shame.

In Genesis, the Garden of Eden is described as a place of perfect harmony where Adam and

Eve walked with God in an intimate and unbroken relationship.

They lived in a world where there was no shame, fear or separation from God.

This was the intended plan.

A relationship built on trust, love and unity.

However, the decision of Adam and Eve to disobey God's command disrupted this perfect relationship.

Their choice to eat from the tree of knowledge, of good and evil, wasn't merely about simply

breaking a rule, but it was about choosing autonomy over dependence on God.

The immediate consequence of that decision was fear and shame.

It says in Genesis chapter 3 verses 7 to 10, then the eyes of both of them were open

Genesis 3:7–10

and they knew they were naked.

So they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.

Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at the

time of the evening breeze, and they hid from the Lord God among the trees of the garden.

So the Lord God called out to man and said to him, where are you?

And he said, I heard you in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid.

They became aware of their nakedness and in their guilt hid themselves from God.

This act of hiding was symbolic of the relational fracture between humanity and God.

What had been a close, trusting connection was now marked by fear, alienation and the

painful consequences of sin.

But even in Adam and Eve's brokenness, God didn't abandon them.

Now I'm not saying that they weren't consequences, much like my own situation and boy was their

consequence.

The entire narrative of scripture points to God's relentless pursuit to reconcile humanity

to himself once again.

The birth of Jesus is the fulfillment of this pursuit, a pivotal moment in God's redemptive

plan.

Jesus came to restore what was lost in the garden, to bridge the gap that sin had created

and to invite us back into the kind of relationship that God had always intended.

God does not want us to hide in fear.

Looking back my fear of coming home to face my family mirrors the fear that many of us

feel when we think about the idea of coming home to Jesus.

And it's probably the same fear the shepherds had as they approached the stable where baby

Jesus lay.

We're afraid we'll be met with judgment and rejection or abandonment because of our mistakes

or imperfections.

But just like the shepherds we're met with peace and a reminder that we're loved unconditionally

and accepted, even with our holes in the wall.

That journey from panic to facing reality taught me something powerful.

That God's grace and peace are waiting for us when we stop hiding and step forward in

perfections and all.

In the birth of this baby born in the muck of a stable we see a God who chose to step

into the mess and chaos of our world.

He didn't come in power or splendor but in humility wrapped in the vulnerability of human

flesh.

From the very start Jesus entered into the brokenness we try so hard to hide.

Our fears, our failures and our flaws, yet instead of judgment he came to bridge the

gap between us and God.

To wash us clean and to invite us into a relationship where we are fully known and yet have nothing

to fear.

Fear is such a cultural disease in our society, it eats away at all God has called us to be.

And like any disease, fear needs an antidote to be eradicated and thankfully God offers

the perfect antidote in Jesus.

For the fear of being unworthy or not being enough, which leads to the symptom of rejection,

Jesus offers peace.

In John 14 to verse 27 it says, Peace I leave you with you, my peace I give you, I do not

give to you as the world gives, do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

His birth declares that our worth is not determined by our perfection or performance in him.

We are made whole and complete.

His peace quietens our hearts, reassuring us that we are enough in his eyes no matter

our shortcomings.

For the fear of not belonging or being unclean, which manifests as judgment, Jesus offers

acceptance.

In Mark chapter 2 verses 16 to 17 it says, When the teachers of the law who were Pharisees

Mark 2:16–17

saw him eating with the sinners and tax collectors, they asked his disciples, why does he eat

with tax collectors and sinners?

On hearing this Jesus said to them, It is not the healthy who need a doctor but the

sick, I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.

Jesus entered our world born into a humble stable, meeting us in the mess of our humanity

to make us clean.

He welcomes us as we are with our condemnation and invites us into his presence.

And for the fear of not being loved, which creates the symptom of abandonment, Jesus

offers unconditional love.

In John chapter 4 verses 9 to 10 it says this, This is how God showed us his love among us.

John 4:9–10

He sent his one and only son into the world that we might live through him.

This is love.

Not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his son as an entoning sacrifice

for our sins.

This love is constant, unwavering and never dependent on our actions or mistakes.

Jesus' very presence is proof that we are seen, we are valued and pursued by a God

who loves us deeply and eternally.

In the face of our deepest fears, God's antidotes bring us healing and restoring us to the fullness

of life that he desired for us.

But just because there is an antidote doesn't mean that we always have the confidence to

take it.

If you are anything like me who cried on the operating table before getting my wisdom teeth

out, you know how hard it can be to reach out and take that antidote or anesthesia.

Even when you know it, it will bring healing.

There is something about fear that grips us, making us hesitate even when the cure is right

in front of us.

It's difficult to trust that God's peace, acceptance and unconditional love will truly

heal the wounds that we've been carrying for so long.

When our instinct is to hold on to our fears as a way to protect ourselves from judgement,

rejection and abandonment.

The truth is that my fear of releasing my fears comes down to the need for control and

it's rooted in a lack of trust.

It's hard to let go when I think that I know better, when I convince myself that my plans

will keep me safe or that by holding on tightly I can prevent pain.

To be our own doctors and trust in Dr. Google instead, as humans we often believe that our

fears help us maintain control, creating barriers that we think will shield us from the pain

or vulnerability.

We strive, we work, we perform, believing that if we can just get it right we will somehow

earn peace, love and acceptance.

But deep down we link receiving these good gifts with our behaviour.

We believe that God's gifts, his peace, his acceptance, his unconditional love are reserved

for those who measure up.

Instead of receiving what Jesus freely offers, we try to fill the fears with other things

like success, relationships, achievements or even distractions that help us numb the

pain.

We try and push the fears aside, ignore them or bury them under the busyness, but all that

does is makes them grow stronger in the quiet corners of our hearts.

This is especially true for those of us who struggle with perfectionism.

It's exhausting to live in a space where failure feels catastrophic, where the fear of being

found out looms large.

Perfectionism convinces us that if we just work harder, strive longer, hide better, that

we can control the outcome, avoid rejection and find peace.

The truth is that perfectionism never delivers what it promises.

And yet Jesus steps into that mess with a different message.

He offers peace, not as a reward for perfect behaviour, but as a gift freely given.

Through the cross, Jesus made a way for us to receive these gifts apart from our efforts.

What he accomplished on the cross breaks down the lie that we have to earn God's favour.

Jesus knew that we could never be good enough on our own, so he took our place.

He bore our shame, our fears and our failures, and in exchange he offers us his peace, his

love and his acceptance.

This changes everything.

The cross means that our performance is not tied to God's goodness.

We don't have to strive to be enough or hide our flaws to be loved.

Instead, we can stand before God, fully seen, fully known and still be called worthy, accepted

and beloved.

But here's the key.

Knowing this truth in your head isn't enough.

You have to know it in your heart.

It's one thing to hear that God loves you unconditionally, but it's another thing to

truly believe it, to allow it to sink deep into your soul.

When you know, when you truly know what Jesus has done for you on the cross, it changes

the way you live.

It means that you don't have to hold on so tightly to control.

You don't have to keep proving yourself.

You don't have to keep numbing your fears.

And instead, you can release those fears into his hands because you trust that he is good

and that his plans are good and that his love is enough.

Timothy Keller's perspective speaks directly to this tension.

He says, we fear rejection and failure, but if we were completely filled with God's love,

you wouldn't care what people thought.

We fear future and circumstances, but if you knew God perfectly and that he is good and

in control, you would trust him and you wouldn't be afraid of death because you would know

how you would be with him forever.

His words remind me that fear thrives when I doubt God's ultimate plan of redemption

and reconciliation.

This kind of trust doesn't mean we, life will be perfect, but it does mean that you can

live differently.

When you trust God's love, you don't have to worry about being enough.

You already are in his eyes.

When you trust God's acceptance, you don't have to fear rejection because he has already

called you his own.

When you trust God's peace, you don't have to cling to control.

You can rest knowing that he is holding you.

Let's remind ourselves of this unshakable truth.

God has done all this for me.

He saw us in our fears, in our striving and in our perfectionism and he sent Jesus to

rescue us.

Because of what Jesus has done, we can live with ultimate trust and peace free from the

group of fear.

When we know this truth, not just in our heads, but in our hearts, it changes everything.

We don't have to care about the opinions that once held us captive.

We don't have to worry about proving ourselves.

We can trust that God is who he says he is, that his plans are good and that his love

will carry us through every fear and uncertainty.

That is the gift of the cross.

That is the peace that Jesus brings.

Going forward into the scripture in verse 15, it says, when the angels had left them

and returned to heaven, the shepherd said to one another, let's go straight to Bethlehem

and see what has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.

They hurried off and found both Mary and Joseph and the baby who was lying in the manger.

After seeing them, they reported the message.

They were told about this child and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherd

said to them.

The shepherd's response shows a shift from fear to peace and action.

Their initial fear gave way to an excited urgency to witness the Savior, affirming that

the angels reassurance had brought them peace and confidence in God's invitation.

This empowered them to leave their fields and become messengers themselves, sharing

the good news with others, glorifying and praising God for what they had seen and heard.

They became evangelists, spreading the good news of the Savior's birth to everyone they

encountered.

These men who were previously overlooked, marginalized and considered unworthy, yet they

were chosen by God to carry the most important announcement in history.

They didn't worry about being perfect or being qualified.

They simply shared what they had seen and heard.

This shows us that sharing about Jesus doesn't require perfection or expertise.

It simply requires a willingness to speak from the heart about what God has done in our

lives.

The shepherd's example challenges us to consider how we respond to the good news of Jesus in

our own lives.

Are we so transformed by his unconditional love, acceptance and peace that we can't

help but share it?

Just like the shepherds, our testimonies have power to inspire and encourage others.

Not because of how polished or how perfect we are, but because of the authenticity of

our faith.

When we encounter the peace and joy of Jesus, it's not meant to be kept to ourselves.

We are called to go out in whatever sphere of life we find ourselves in and share the

hope of the gospel with those around us.

The encounter transformed the shepherd's sphere into faith and their lowly status into a

privileged role of proclaiming Christ's birth.

What if we, like the shepherds, took this message seriously?

What if we went out into our neighbourhoods, our families and our workplaces, not just

with a message of personal peace, love and acceptance, but with a message of global transformation?

Imagine what it would look like if our communities were filled with the peace, love and acceptance

of Christ.

Not just in a passive way, but in an active pursuit of justice, reconciliation and love.

What would the Henley area look like if everyone knew the deep sense of those antidotes gifted

from God?

What would happen if in Henley and beyond, people knew that they are loved by God and

are a part of his redemptive plan?

I think we'd see communities where forgiveness replaces bitterness, kindness overcomes hatred

and hope extinguishes despair.

The band can come up if they like.

This isn't just a lofty vision, it is the calling of the gospel.

Jesus's peace isn't meant to stay within us, it's meant to overflow into every part of

our lives and the world around us.

The shepherds remind us that even those who feel unworthy, unlovable or excluded are invited

to carry this extraordinary message.

What if we embrace that calling, allowing the antidotes to our deepest fears, peace, acceptance

and unconditional love, to transform not just our hearts, but our actions as well?

When we step into the peace that Jesus offers, we are empowered to confront the fear of being

unworthy with the peace that affirms our value, to face the fear of rejection with the acceptance

that God has already called us his own and to overcome the fear of abandonment with the

knowledge that his love is unwavering.

The question isn't just whether this change is possible, it's whether we're actually

willing to step forward like the shepherds, leaving behind our fears and our comforts

and becoming the messages of God's peace.

The baby born in a messy stable, laid in a food trough and visited by society's lowest,

was at the centre of God's redemptive plan.

Those same outcasts were entrusted to share the most important message, that God had come

near, peace was now here and that fear no longer had the final word.

The birth of Jesus is more than just a story, it is a declaration of God's unwavering desire

to bring us home.

In sending his son, God tore down the barriers that fear and sin had built between us and

him in the garden, where we once may have felt unworthy, unclean or unlovable, Jesus

steps in as our peace, our acceptance and our unconditional love.

Through him we are washed clean and the burden of proving ourselves is lifted.

We no longer have to strive or fear rejection, for Jesus has already secured us a place in

the Father's arms.

This is the invitation of Christmas to come home to a God who not only sees us as we are,

but loves us fully and completely.

It's a reminder that no matter who we are or what fears we carry, God invites us into

his story.

The angels message, do not be afraid is still for us today.

When we come home to Jesus, we leave behind fear because we find ourselves in the presence

of a saviour who fully knows us, deeply loves us and offers us true peace.

Peace that speaks directly to the three universal fears we all carry.

Jesus' birth assures us that we can stand before God with no fear.

He has already made the way and he is calling us to step forward, to trust him and to rest

in the truth that we are his.

In his presence we find the peace we've been searching for, the love we've been longing

for and the safety to be who we truly are no longer afraid but fully embraced.

God has given us himself the greatest gift of all so that we can come home to him.

Thanks so much for tuning into this week's message.

If you felt challenged or need prayer, we'd love to hear from you on Instagram at EncounterHenry.

Or if you're interested in how you can support this ministry, please go to our website EncounterAdelaide.com.au.

Thanks again for listening.

God bless you.