"Fear not?" Who are they kidding?

Sunday morning I woke up feeling afraid.
There was no real reason. Sometimes it just happens. Not that frequently, thankfully. But sometimes I wake up early and find myself obsessing over things that have happened that I can't do anything about; things that are happening that I can't change; or things that "could" happen but I don't really know for sure.
Then at church, since it was the first Sunday of Advent, every song seemed to contain the phrase "Fear not!" And the sermon included a familiar Christmas refrain "Fear not!"
Fear not.
We associate that phrase with Christmas. Angels show up out of nowhere and say, "Fear not." The message is one of hope and salvation, of peace; you know, "Glad tidings of great joy."
Case in point: the sermon was from Revelation and the letter to the church at Smyrna.
Now, to me (in this meaningless aside), Smyrna is a suburb of Atlanta where I lived for a time, right near Aunt Fannie's Cabin and Cumberland Mall. Julia Roberts, the actress, grew up in Smyrna.
I didn't know her.
But in the letter to the church at Old World/Ancient World Smyrna the message is "Do not be afraid," which is the same as "Fear not!" After my morning, I fully expected this to be God's way of showing me He was aware of my morning and had prepared a message specifically to comfort me.
But of course, what does the phrase "fear not" always seem to be followed by?
And so the message to Smyrna is "Fear not! ... the devil will put some of you in prison ... you will suffer ... be faithful even to the point of death."
Fear not?
Here's the thing: almost every person or church or people group that heard the message "Fear not" could be pretty certain they were heading toward some very fearful times.
Mary was going to have this baby that would cause her great embarrassment within the community as people questioned her virtue and the parentage of this child, and it didn't stop just because the angels and shepherds and wise men appeared to celebrate His birth. Old Testament scripture suggests the whispers about Jesus' lineage continued throughout his young life. And indeed there is the whole thing about the Crucifixion.
Joseph was told to go ahead and marry this woman and raise this child as his own. He had to hear the same town gossip, the insinuations and suggestions as he lived and worked and raised a family in their home town.
And so on.

It is easy, and Lord knows I've been guilty, to make the mistake of not paying attention to what follows the "Fear not" in the Bible. I mean, it's Christmas! It's family and decorations and wonderful feel-good songs and presents and parties and celebrations of life.
But one of the things I appreciate about Scripture is the reality. If we read it honestly, we see flawed human beings who have troubles and do stupid things, when want we want to see are stories of people who loved God and so God rewarded them with comfortable, carefree lives. We read about churches that had serious problems of deceit and immorality and serious arguments over theology, not megachurches where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children above average (shout out to Lake Wobegon).
In other words, when you blow the dust off the stories of the Bible, you find stories of real people, in real situations, members of very real organizations ... who go through real situations and therefore, like the rest of us, have every reason to fear.

There is a hymn that we used to sing that goes, "This world is not my home; I'm just passing through." The problem is that the "passing through" takes a long time for most of us, and involves things like jobs and bills and family and politics and the economy and sickness and crazy neighbors and evil people and our own mistakes that cause us pain.

I wish I could write something profound that answers this question of "fear."
Perhaps the best I can do is relate a story my older brother told from when he was a seminary student. He and some classmates were playing basketball in the gym and the janitor came in to lock up. However, the janitor decided to let the guys finish their game, and he sat down on the bleachers and pulled out his Bible to read while they played (apparently he'd seen all the seminary-level basketball games he cared to watch).
Afterward, my brother says he and the other guys went over to thank the janitor and asked, "What are you reading?
The old man said, "Book of Revelations."
My brother and the others, being seminary students and therefore knowing all about theology and exegesis and interpretation, said to the old man, "Do you understand it?"
The old man said, "I think so."
My brother and his friends looked at each other, probably rather smugly, and said, "There's a lot of symbolism in that book - lamp stands and dragons and 666 and strange creatures. People have been trying to figure out what those things mean for centuries. What do you think it means?"
The old man smiled and said, "It means in the end, Jesus wins."

And that's the best answer I have for "fearing not."
Whatever we're going through now, whatever the future holds, whatever our early morning fears are and however real they may or may not be, in the end, Jesus wins.
Fear not.