There Aren’t Really Any Monsters Under the Bed!

There aren’t really any monsters under the bed!

A sermon given August 2022 on Blessing of the Backpacks Sunday
By Kate Fields

Picture this! It’s night time and all the lights have been turned off. The bedtime story has already been read, and you’re supposed to be going to sleep. But sleep is totally impossible because, you’re absolutely sure that at that very moment there is a very scary monster directly under your bed who will at any moment grab you! So you pull the covers completely over your head and do your best to stay very still so it doesn’t realize you are there. And then eventually as minutes pass, you gain a little courage to peep out one eye from the blanket. Nothing there. Then, a bit more courage to pull the blankets down. You know what you have to do. You have to face the monster and vanquish it!

So, you grab the game controller by your bed just in case you need something hard to throw quickly. And then you get a final surge of courage to do it. You leap from the bed down onto your knees and pull up the covers under the bed to deal with this monster who is a mortal threat. And then… you see it…. all that’s actually under the bed is a missing sock, a candy wrapper and some dust bunnies.

It turns out that there aren’t really monsters under your bed. All that fear was for naught.

Isn’t that so real though? Maybe you are a full blown adult and you can actually fall asleep without looking under the bed. But life can be hard and sometimes scary and we all still have monsters who we are sure are under the bed. Fear can be a good controller of our minds, our bodies, and it can direct our paths.

I think this is why in scripture, Jesus talks about fear so much. Jesus says some version of “do not fear” over and over and over in the gospels. It almost seems as if “do not fear” is actually a part of the gospel, which means good news.

It’s everywhere— today we have three instances where we see some variation of: “do not fear” in scripture.

In our lectionary Gospel text today in Luke 12:

Jesus says: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Creator’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
In this context, we are not supposed to let fear keep us from living lives poured out in service to others. Why does Jesus say this? Because fear of not having enough— can be a deeply embedded fear in our lives and it can keep us hoarding what we have because our eyes can only see scarcity. There’s not enough and there never will be enough. We can’t see the bounty, the plenty, the beauty, and the opportunities around us.

Our next text is Jesus’ Farewell Discourse, or teachings he gave his disciples right before his death. Flag these as really important teachings that Jesus wanted to be sure his followers understood before he left them. I think of these teachings as I think of a spouse or a parent hollering at you as you’re late and running out the door: “Remember this….. ”
In this passage, the disciples couldn’t believe Jesus was about to leave them… and furthermore, they didn’t want to see him go. He was their teacher, mentor, rabbi, Savior, and their friend. But he tells them essentially in this verbose passage that he has to go so that he can prepare a place for them in paradise, and also that he has to go on, so that the Holy Spirit, the very third part of God, their Advocate could be given to them.

Jesus says in John 14,
25 “I have spoken these things to you while I am with you. 26 The Companion, the Holy Spirit, whom the Creator will send in my name, will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I told you.27 “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I give to you not as the world gives. Don’t be troubled or afraid.”
I am giving you my powerful Spirit to go and do the work of love in the world. In fact, just a few verses prior to this, Jesus says: the world will know you are my disciples by how you love each other. Do not be troubled or afraid. I leave my peace with you.
Then lastly, our Psalm text— from Psalm 56:3-4 reads:
3 whenever I’m afraid,
    I put my trust in you—
4         in God, whose word I praise.
        I trust in God; I won’t be afraid.
    What can mere flesh do to me?

You may know this Psalm from learning it in song format in a children’s song — my mom taught me this to try to give me the courage to face my fears as a kid.

When I am afraid, I will trust in you, I will trust in you, I will trust in you.
When I am afraid, I will trust in you, in God whose word I praise.”

Anyone know that? Am I completely dating myself?
Do not fear. Don’t not be afraid. Have no fear of them. When I am afraid, I will trust in you. These are ALL over scripture. We could be here all day exegeting verses which talk about not fearing. All of these different ways of saying:
whatever is to come will not be waded through if you let fear drown you
We know that fear can be downright paralyzing. And I’m not talking about the helpful and necessary kind of fear that helps us create healthy boundaries, like say, not sticking our hands on a hot stove or attempting to merge onto the busy interstate without checking the mirrors first. Or like, Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber says:
“The only time fear isn’t a liar is when you are actually about to be attacked by a bear or asked to do the chicken dance at a wedding or some other imminent threat.”

The kind of fear that we are talking about today is fear that attaches our worth to our successes and failures and loves it when we build walls of shame around those insecurities. It steals sleep, and joy and in return, and replaces honest smiles with fake ones. It’s a fear that keeps us scared of ourselves and others, and thus, unable to love with the kind of love that Jesus would model even through this death.
This fear does not co-exist well with gratitude and humility, so it keeps us entangled with scarcity, pride, and arrogance.
Jesus said: do not fear. That is not to say that fear won’t be around you and in you, but part of the Gospel’s Good News is that fear does not have to drive your bus anymore. It does not have to control your life. So when those frequent flyer thoughts of fear come up, remember these words of Jesus. Remember there is a powerful, divine peace given to you. Remember God’s Spirit is with you. Remember that you are so loved by the God who created you. Remember that you are part of a strong church who loves you and has your back. Do not be afraid.
So kids, especially as you begin a new school year and have all kinds of new things that you aren’t sure about and maybe even scared of… remember that God is with you. And remember that monster under the bed. It’s not even real.
I’d like to close with a brief story. My spouse and I went to a concert a few months back where Kathy Matthea and Suzy Bogguss sang together. They are good friends so it was a lot of fun to see them go back and forth. In between songs, Kathy shared a story about her mom. She and her mom were very close and apparently Kathy loved singing basically ever since she could talk (are any of us surprised?). Anyway, as Kathy grew up, she really wanted her mom to sing with her, but her mom never would. She thought she had a terrible voice and was too afraid to sing in front of other people, even her family. So Kathy never heard her singing voice. As Kathy’s mom entered her final years of life, she developed severe dementia and to everyone’s surprise… she sang all the time. Kathy said simply: “My mom forgot that she couldn’t sing.” And she sang and sang and sang and sang.

My prayer is that if you have perceived monsters under your bed that are keeping you from singing — from living— that you would pull up those covers and realize they aren’t even real. Forget them. Forget that you don’t think your voice is good enough. Forget that you can’t do something because you’re scared of putting yourself out there. Forget that you think you aren’t smart enough or good looking enough.

There aren’t really any monsters under the bed.

We need you to be you. We need your gifts. We need your courage. We need you to show up and show us your heart.

Do not be troubled or afraid. May it ever be so.

Dear Fear,

You frequently remind me of how susceptible I am

to the lies and truths which you expertly mix,

to make me believe you care about my person.


You successfully tell me that I cannot succeed,

You attach my worth to my success,

and tell me I don’t belong unless I win,

the biggest, brightest, most prestigious award.


You take my dreams and make me salivate for their passing,

but you destroy my inner peace to reach them,

staining my hopeful, optimistic dreams with blood.


You are in love with my insecurities because they are fuel,

they give you power to remind me of my weaknesses,

and you delight when I build high walls of shame around them.


You steal my sleep, you steal my joy and in return,

you replace my honest smile with a fake one,

you make me believe I’m the only one that matters.


You cannot co-exist with gratefulness and humility,

so you entangle me with malignant thoughts,

thoughts of scarcity, pride, and arrogance.


You convince me that I am not worthy of love,

Or of another’s time and energy,

And I believe you.


You love when I give you the time of day,

you love when I believe everything you say,

you delight in crippling me.


You horrid thing; you care nothing about me,

how dare I let you deceive me.


This is my time to look you directly, intensely,

in your fiery yellow, evil eyes,

and tell you that,



Lessons from the Playground

How often do we learn the most from the least likely to teach us?

This week I had the joy of being able to take my little 6 year old friend out for a girls day. She is, by far, one of the coolest people I know. Having had a fun day of shopping and eating, we decided to make our way to the local playground. Now this isn’t just any playground, it’s a super-charged playground with several yards of various colorful apparatuses to conquer.

As she began to climb the castle, she stopped in her tracks when coming to a roped feature that connected the two towers. The flooring had ended and the roped webbing became the route in which she had to tread to continue her conquest of the castle. She decided that this feature was too scary and not worth the fear it created. She gave up and turned around. She did this several times at various spots on the playground. I could see she was missing out on a lot of fun, but all she could see is that this was a giant obstacle that was too scary.

Eventually, we came to a rather frightening spiral ladder… the ladder was tilted, making it a slightly more difficult ladder to climb than your average ladder. Because of her short stature, she couldn’t see what was beyond the ladder, but I could. And I knew that she’d want to partake in what fun awaited her at the top. To my amazement, she left the ground and began the ascent. She made it about 3 seconds before telling me this was too scary and asking me to help her down.

Now if I thought she couldn’t make it, by all means, I would’ve given in and lifted her down. But I knew she could do this thing that scared her.

At this moment, I wanted to tell her so many things. I wanted to tell her that life was messy and hard and, at many times, scary. I wanted to tell her that fear would be a frequent visitor and would tempt her into taking the easy, safe way out. I wanted to tell her that giving into fear is not the way to life… it’s not the way to joy– or intimacy– or vulnerability.

I wanted to tell her about the evil that has come from people motivated by fear. The racism, the discrimination, the hate. I wanted to tell her the mistakes people make because of fear. I wanted to tell her about the amazing things people miss out on because they give up out of fear.

I wanted to tell her all of these things. I even wanted to lift her off the ladder so she wouldn’t have an unpleasant experience. But I didn’t.

Because here’s a secret I’ve been learning… a pleasant life is not always a rich life.
The safeness and steadiness quickly wear off and give way to superficiality and boredom.

Instead, I stood behind her… close to her… and I told her that I just knew she could do it. I told her that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I told her that we’d work through this together.

After a moment, she decided that she could take just one more step, which turned into another and another. I let her inch along. Finally, she made it to the top. She was ecstatic. She was empowered. “Oh Kate, I am Merida from Brave“, she yelled. “Yes, you are… you always were,” I replied.

Having completed this feat, she began attempting other playground equipment that scared her. And before long, she had free reign of the playground. As the sun set, I could see joy radiating from her.

And once again I realized, life lessons are often learned from the least likely to teach us.

“And I’d Ride on the Backs of the Angels Tonight”1

Though I have a blog, I rarely use it because I am not so great at expressing my feelings in a public manner, or private for that manner; however, I do have momentary revelations, though they may be few and far between. And since it is the new year, I feel obligated to journal it. Thanks for reading…whatever it may be worth.

I have become incredibly adept at making worry, fear, and irrationality my close friends. This semester started off on a terrible note, a self-induced one no doubt; it slowly progressed into something more beautiful though, thankfully so. I think this, coupled with the fact that anyone who knows me will tell you that I absolutely cannot stand the cold weather, created a bad mindset in me…a hard heart, unwilling to be moved by her Creator in Heaven.

So there is the groundwork that explains my current mindset. This is not life. It is not abundant life that Christ came to give. What does it mean to live abundantly? Well…I am still seeking it as well. But I know it is not what I have been doing. The joy, the peace, the hope, the hope is abundance. The grace given to me every day that is, in every way, undeserved… is abundance. Giving that grace to others is abundance. Giving your life to a cause greater than yourself is abundance. Loving others above all is abundance. And friends, this life is too beautiful, too short, and too precious not to live in abundance.

It is not about living in misery for the things and people that we don’t have…for there are too many things that are out of our control. It has to be about loving amongst whatever and wherever we are. For me, its extremely hard to let the guard down…the guard that seemingly protects me from the pain that comes as a direct result of loving with everything I have. Love IS messy. I have learned that. And it hurts. Like hell sometimes. When you lose someone you love, there no magic salve that heals. But I will die believing that love is the most incredible thing that we can give. It is the most incredible thing that we can experience… because it forces you to forget about yourself. In a world where selfishness pervades every crevice of every heart, Love triumphs. It’s our only hope.

This is abundance. Its the kin-dom of God here on earth. Though I have done an embarrassing job of it this fall, I will live in it because its also called obedience.

I leave you with these lyrics from an old Newsboys song called “Joy”; I cannot seem to expel them from my heart or my head. I think they are going to be an anthem in 2010.

You give me joy that’s unspeakable, and I like it, and I like it,
Your love for me is irresistible, I can’t fight it, I can’t fight it,
You carried the cross and took my shame, I believe it, I believe it,
You shine Your light of amazing grace, I receive it, I receive it

1) The title of this post is referring to a lyric from “Poughkeepsie” by Over the Rhine