I love the national anthem. You do not question it. You stand up, straighten your back, look noble and sing it with more enthusiasm than talent. I have sung it in school halls, dusty grounds, wedding receptions, and once on our Independence Day in Austria.
Patriotic pride, yes. Spiritual experience, no.
Which is why I was puzzled when a choir in Mumbai began a Christmas carol service with the national anthem.
It felt like starting a birthday party by showing your passport. Perfectly valid, but slightly odd.
My faith and my nationality have always lived peacefully in separate rooms of my heart, occasionally nodding at each other but never competing for attention. So why the need to announce it so loudly. We are Indian. We also worship differently. Is there really a need to prove both at the same time.
It made me wonder whether something else was at play.
Not patriotism, but fear.
A quiet nervousness that says, let us clarify before someone questions us. Let us declare our loyalty to our country before someone doubts it. Fear has a way of sneaking into places where confidence once lived. It makes us explain things that never needed explaining.
Christmas, of all days, should remind us that fear is not in charge. The message of Christmas is not subtle. God did not enter the world quietly through the back door.
He arrived as a baby and managed to shake an entire kingdom.
King Herod did not panic because armies were marching. He panicked because a child had been born. And born in a poor stable. That tells you everything you need to know about real power.
The Bible repeats two words more than any others. ‘Fear not’. Not try harder. Not shout louder. Not prove yourself.
Fear not.
It was said to shepherds who were minding their own business.
It was said to Mary when her entire future was turned upside down.
It was said again and again because humans are remarkably good at forgetting it.
If there is anger today towards a tiny minority of Christians in this country, it is not because they are powerful. It is because they are perceived to be protected by something greater than numbers. Fear often disguises itself as aggression. When people are secure, they do not shout. They do not threaten. They do not need to sing louder than everyone else.
Christmas is not the season of defence. It is the season of confidence. Quiet confidence. The kind that does not need flags waved in sanctuaries or credentials announced before prayer.
So from Christmas Day, perhaps the best carol we can sing is not with a choir at all. It is with our lives.
Release the spirit of fear.
Let the Spirit of victory take its place. Not the victory of noise, but the victory of peace. And let two simple words reign again, fear not.
Happy Christmas dear friend…. FEAR NOT…!