Just a short time ago, a young homemaker and mother sat in my office telling me how she was feeling about her life. She said she felt she was adrift in a tiny boat in the middle of a great and surging ocean. How she had gotten into that boat and where she was going was a mystery to her. All she could see were the huge waves towering over her frail, little boat, threatening at any moment to swamp it and sink it, to swallow her up forever.
That young woman was depressed and afraid. Some of us can identify with her. Most of us have been afraid at some time. The disciples, too. They were frightened out of their wits in that boat. They probably wondered if they would die in the storm. Then how can Jesus ask them, "Why are you afraid?" How could anyone not be afraid in that situation?
I checked in my concordance to find out how many times Jesus said, "Be not afraid." The answer is: Lots. Jesus uses that phrase over and over again. He says, "Have no fear" or "Do not be anxious" or "Do not worry." The problem is, Jesus never tells us how to do that!
There are some very real causes for fear. What about the family who has no income coming in and the children are hungry? Or the widowed mother who sees her only son getting into bad company and drugs. What about the man who has just learned he has cancer? Or the couple whose marriage is coming apart? Everyone experiences some kind of fear.
I suspect even Jesus knew fear. He wept over Jerusalem. He prayed for his disciples, knowing they were in danger. In the Garden of Gethsemane the Bible tells us that sweat fell off him like great drops of blood as he anticipated what was in store for him. After all, he was taking the responsibility of the whole world on his shoulders. No one can tell me he wasn't afraid.
I have a confession to make. I am not comfortable with those passages of scripture where Jesus says, "Do not be afraid." I'm just not sure what he means. It seems so unrealistic. When I am afraid, I feel inadequate. I say to myself, "Kris, you should have more faith than that." Being a Christian and a worrier apparently don't go together well.
At least I know I am in good company. I think it was Bertrand Russell who said, "Those who feel certainty are stupid, and those with any imagination and understanding are filled with doubt and indecision." I sure can relate to that! Another person said, "Anyone who isn't afraid today is either stupid or dead." Obviously, I am in good company.
Sometimes fear can be a good thing. Fear of an accident on a highway makes us cautious. Fear of disease results in research and the discovery of new drugs. Actually, when it comes right down to it, there are worse things than fear. I read that there is still hope for a tuberculosis patient as long as he or she has a fever. In the final stages of the disease, when the body has given up, the fever leaves and the patient soon dies. Fear may be a little like a fever. Fear is sign of life and hope. It can bring a necessary surge of adrenalin. But fear is still a problem. After a day of counseling appointments, I am convinced that fear runs rampant among us.
I have several books on the shelves in my office that have stories of genuine heroes in them. These are people who have performed remarkable acts of courage. I find their stories thrilling. I also find them a little unsettling. How do people do those things? In a real crisis, what is to keep me from running in the other direction? The stories I like best are the ones that talk about courage in the midst of fear. Those are people I can really admire ... people who are scared to death and still do what needs to be done.
One such person was Marshall Ney, a captain in Napoleon's army. Napoleon often referred to Marshall Ney as the bravest man he had ever known. Yet, the captain's knees trembled so badly one morning before a battle that he had trouble getting on his horse. When he was finally in the saddle, he looked at his knees and said with disgust, "Shake away, knees. You would shake worse than that if you knew where I am going to take you."1 Now that's a man I can really like.
But what makes the difference? What do we do when we are afraid and Jesus says we shouldn't be? For me the answer is contained in this one short sentence: There is no promise that we'll be delivered from trouble; but there is a promise that we are not alone. A person can face a lot of fear when there is absolute certainty that God is there.
Anne Douglas Sedgwick was an English novelist. She was in her seventies when she wrote some remarkable words in a letter to a friend: "Now, added to everything else I cannot breathe unless I am lying down. If I sit up my ribs collapse. Yet, I cannot drink liquid food unless I am sitting up. Life is a queer struggle. Yet my life is mine and beautiful to me. There is joy in knowing I lie in the hand of God."2 Knowing that I lie in the hand of God is the only thing I can imagine overcoming my fears.
A man named Fock was a sailor in World War II. In one of his letters home he wrote, "If you should hear that I have fallen in battle, do not cry. Remember that even the ocean in which my body sinks is only a pool in my Savior's hand."3 There is no promise that we'll be delivered from trouble; but there is a promise that we are not alone in it. I think that's why Jesus could say, "Be not afraid." He knew he was not alone.
There was a little farm boy who was taken to a neighbor's house for the day. As night came on the little boy went out on the porch intending to go home. He became frightened by the darkness and began to cry. There was no one to take him home and he was very worried. After a while, he looked out of the window in the direction of his house. Suddenly his face lit up and he exclaimed, "I'm not afraid anymore!" When the neighbor asked him why, the little boy answered, "Because I can see a light in the window of our house. That means my big sister is coming for me, and I'll not be afraid when I hold her hand."4
That's the only real answer to fear that I know. When my power to handle a scary situation is at an end, I still can say, "I'll not be afraid because you, God, are holding my hand." Amen.
1. John O'Brien, The Art of Courageous Living (McMullan Books, 1950), p. 115.
2. Robert Luccock, If God Be For Us (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1954), p. 49.
3. Helmut Thielicke, How to Believe Again (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1972), p. 75.
4. Paul E. Holdcraft, Cyclopedia of Bible Illustrations (New York: Abingdon-Cokesbury Press, 1947), p. 120.