In this fallen world there are plenty of reasons to be scared. The words, the actions, of others can wound – the uncertainty of life can feel deeply unsettling – the news from across the globe can be utterly heartbreaking. And the church often feels no safer.
Accusations, disappointments, scandals, opposition, hurt, heresy and decisions to be made, all weigh heavily on our hearts. No wonder fear is such a dominant feature of our modern lives.
We all know fear feels horrible. Most of us wish it would just go away. But while we are all deeply aware that fear makes for a miserable companion, many of us allow it to be our defining guide. We hate it, but we let it nudge us to live in the shadow of its tyranny rather than in the light of Jesus’ care.
Maybe you’re that pastor who’s faced opposition and is now desperately trying to avoid being hurt again. Maybe you’re that individual who’s made some pastoral mistakes and is now withdrawing from others in the church. Maybe you’re that younger Christian who has been told you’re not the right fit and now you’re too scared to speak or serve. Maybe you’re that spouse who’s been ground down by repeated unkindness and you’re convinced it’s too risky to seek help. Or maybe you’re that exhausted individual who’s been criticised so often you now cover your fear with rage, and lash out defensively if anyone even dares to hint you’re wrong. Maybe you’re so scared of losing your home, your position, the respect you hold dear, that you seek to define not only how people see you but how they serve you too. At the root of so much withdrawal – so much anger and control – is a heart that is dominated by fear.
We see it in Scripture time and again. Saul, fearful of David’s popularity, becomes jealous, angry and aggressive. The disciples, fearful of arrest, abandon Jesus at his trial. Pilate, fearful of the crowds, delivers Jesus to His death but at the same time tries to declare himself innocent. Peter, fearful of the circumcision group, withdraws from Gentiles and moves away from the gospel of grace. Timothy, fearful of false teachers, is tempted to be ashamed of Paul and his chains. Fear, left unchecked, constantly pushes us to dominate, defend or try to disappear. None of those outcomes honours God.
Fear is a determined taskmaster. Fear does not easily relinquish control of our lives. It cannot be ignored. It will not be suppressed. It rarely subsides of its own accord. But it does have a vulnerability. Fear cannot withstand the tender love of God.
As the fearful heart begins not just to understand but to experience God’s deep, grace-fuelled care, it can start to learn something new. As we all come to see more clearly the goodness of God’s eternal plans, the unending provision He lavishes on those who trust in Him, the sure and certain strength with which He sustains his children, the gentle manner in which He leads and guides, we are able to live with the fear of a fallen world without being led by the fear. As we see the power of those who hurt us get cut off by the power of the cross, we become increasingly free to follow our Shepherd through the mountains and valleys ahead. We can grasp that our call is not to calm, avoid or control the storms of life, but to be faithful within them.
So, this month, when there will be things that cause you to fear, why not spend a few moments remembering afresh the beautiful tenderness of your heavenly Father’s care. Why not sink into His arms. Seek help from your brothers and sisters in Christ. And commit afresh to living a life worthy of your calling – not free from fear, but free from its power – shining as a light in this dark world.
