I recently saw a YouTube presentation of one of my favorite hymns, “Be Not Afraid.” I know the tune and lyrics came from my graduate school days when the whole phenomenon of Folk Masses became quite the thing in Catholic circles. Usually with guitars and other instruments like that, the attempt was to be more relevant to the generation represented by me. I must admit, I liked it much better than the organ music that typically was found in churches. Even though I was not a Catholic, I appreciated the music.
And so, when I heard that tune this time, I was already prepared to enjoy it. This rendition is made by multiple Catholic musicians, all working remotely, as is normal during pandemic times. There must have been 25 different musicians. One of them was Bob Dufford, who wrote the song and published it in 1975. Dufford had not yet become a Jesuit, but later joined that outstanding group of Catholic brothers. It led me to look a bit into the original making of that song.
One story I read told it this way. “It was 1972, and Dufford was not a “Father” yet. He was on a Jesuit retreat, preparing to be ordained and grappling with anxiety about his future: Where would he go? What sort of work would he do as a priest? Would he be any good at it?” Dufford was given a suggestion. “His spiritual director suggested that he pray with the Annunciation in mind. Perhaps he could relate to Mary, who was “greatly troubled” when the angel appeared to her and said she would give birth to the Messiah. Dufford read the passage, and the angel’s words stuck with him: “Do not be afraid.”
If you know the song, you know how much biblical material there is referenced there. “Be not afraid’ is the refrain and, for me, probably the main theme of the hymn. The song begins, “You shall cross the barren desert, but you shall not die of thirst.” That strikes me as a powerful promise. The desert symbolizes the tests and trials we all endure through our lives. We must cross through the desert. But we won’t die, assurance is given. The refrain is already in our minds” be not afraid. A related idea is the next line. “You will wander far in safety though you do not know the way.” That makes a great deal of sense during these wacky times. We do seem far from safety. Even a trip to the grocery can feel a bit dangerous!
Soon Dufford was told he would go to Ghana for mission duty. He thought more about his emerging song. We read that “Hoping to finish the song before she left, he started reflecting on the end of Matthew’s Gospel, when Jesus says, “I am with you always.” That inspired a second line, “I go before you always,” but he would not finish the song for another year.” Obviously, revelation does not always happen in our own timing. Dufford was in a rush, but the Spirit was not!
Interestingly, we learn that Dufford was ordained after he finished writing the chorus. The chorus goes like this. “Be not afraid; I go before you always. Come, follow me and I will give you rest.” The promise that “I go before you always” comes from the end of Matthew’s gospel. The possibility of being given rest is at the heart of the Bible. It can be found in the Psalms and other places. Again, the whole theme is not to be afraid.
I found it interesting to read how Dufford understood for himself the song he was writing. “For me, it was a song of transition.” I can understand this. Then he adds, “There was a fear, but it was a fear of going from one place to another in the [Jesuits], ending one thing and starting another.” It is not surprising to see how he wrote it out of his own situation. But his situation is always going to be different than our situations. And so, we may well interpret it and apply it different. Hence, we can understand Dufford’s final words. “I didn’t know what was going to come, and I had this sense of the promise of God: ‘I go before you always.’” Most of us can resonate with Dufford’s words that we don’t know what is going to come. Our current situation has been topsy-turvy. One day’s news can change the course of our entire week. In many states the governor can speak and change what can happen in schools, restaurants, etc. Rightly, people feel like they have lost control of their lives.
That is why I appreciate the assurance of this hymn. For me it is a promise. The promise is not that things will be easy nor will I get to do what I want to do. The promise is hope. And hope can be very powerful. Hope sustains and offers a future. Be not afraid. That does not mean there are things we should fear. Of course, there are. I fear not wearing a mask and all the advice that is offered for smarter living in a time of pandemic. I fear the idiots in our world. But I don’t have to be afraid.
I am thankful for Dufford and for his inspiration. I am grateful to have encountered this recent rendition of the song and for the inspiration it offers in this time and place. Beneath it all, I am grateful to the God who creates, sustains and is the God of hope. That’s all I need.
Those of us who have read theology or, perhaps, those who are people of faith and are old enough might well recognize this title as a reminder of the late Jewish philosopher and theologian, Martin Buber. I remember reading Buber’s book, I and Thou , when I was in college in the 1960s. It was already a famous book by then. I am not sure I fully understood it, but that would not be the last time I read it. It has been a while since I looked at the book. Buber came up in a conversation with a friend who asked if I had seen the recent article by David Brooks? I had not seen it, but when I was told about it, I knew I would quickly locate and read that piece. I very much like what Brooks decides to write about and what he contributes to societal conversation. I wish more people read him and took him seriously. Brooks’ article focused on the 2016 contentious election. He provocatively suggests, “Read Buber, Not the Polls!” I think Brooks puts
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