Fear Not
When I hear words like “outreach” and “evangelism,” I’ll admit that my blood pressure goes up a notch. Despite what you may have been told, even seminary-trained pastors still get goosebumps. The thought of moving outside of my comfort zone can be unsettling. I’ll be the first to confess that, more often than I care to admit, fear has paralyzed me into silence when I should have spoken up. Of course, that’s not to say that God loves me any less. Extroverts are no closer to the heart of God than introverts. It’s just to say that, sinner-saint that I am, I sometimes find myself failing to be the fearless leader I know I should be.
But not always. Sometimes, God surprises me.
One weekday afternoon I found myself in the local coffeeshop, probably reading and probably wearing my headphones. But something caught my attention that caused me to look up. A customer was clearly agitated, and he was engaged in passionate conversation with the shop’s proprietor (whom I knew to be a Christian). He was speaking loudly enough for me to overhear. I don’t recall his exact words, but the gist of it was that he was deeply troubled by some of his own failures in life. He kept talking about sins he’d committed and relationships that weren’t as they should be, and he was frustrated that he couldn’t make things right. Without knowing it, he was confessing his sins. On and on he went, and finally I sensed that this was probably what some call “a Holy Spirit moment.” I got up and walked over to his table. Surprised, he glanced up at me. “Hey,” I said, “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I’m a pastor, and part of my job is to tell people about Jesus. So you need to know that Jesus died at the Cross to take care of all of that. All of your sins have been cast as far as the east is from the west, and there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. I just thought you should know.” He stared at me and blinked. At that point I selfishly hoped to see a tear roll down his cheek or at least some grand show of repentance in exchange for my magnanimous Christian witness. None of that actually happened. He was still visibly upset, and he continued to verbalize his frustrations as we conversed more. I don’t know if I got through to him. I don’t know if his life turned around. I don’t know if he even remembers our conversation. But what I learned that day was that God works through fearful people like me despite our weaknesses: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor 12:9).
Fear is everywhere. Whether it’s fear of heights, fear of judgment, fear of failure, or fear of death, fear runs rampant in our world today. It’s become the very air that we breathe; toxic fumes polluting the clean air of faith to such a degree that we don’t even realize it’s there. Like a fish that has been swimming for so long it can’t comprehend the concept of water (“What’s water?”) we ask, “Fear, what fear? What are you even talking about? I’m not scared!” But denial doesn’t make fear any less real. If we’re honest with ourselves, the monsters are there, lurking in the shadows of the world and in our hearts. Sometimes fear manifests in big and obvious ways, but other times it crops up in more subtle forms that don’t look like classical fear at all. The angriest person in the room, for example, is often the most fearful person. The anger is just a smokescreen to cover their fear of losing control.
The question, then, isn’t so much “How can I stop being scared?” In our fallen world, fear is a given. A better question is “Where is God when my worst fears come true?” And if we finally work up the courage to verbalize such a lament, we’ll discover that God is already on the way with an answer.
There’s a reason “Fear Not” is one of the most frequent phrases in Scripture. God knows how prone to fear his people are. The good news, however, is that our Good Physician also carries the antidote: “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love” (1 John 4:18). This may sound surprising. We might expect the antidote to be bravery. “Bravery drives out fear.” Or possibly courage: “Courage drives out fear! So buck up and be brave!!” Or maybe something more therapeutic: “Positive self-talk drives out fear.” Bravery, courage, and therapy are all well and good in their proper places. But Jesus diagnoses our fear problem spiritually―at the heart level―and he tells us that only one thing has the power to “drive out” (this verb means to forcibly throw out or expel) fear: Love. This is not just any garden variety love, though. Perfect love drives out fear, and there is only One who loves perfectly. The love of Christ, says John, acts like a bouncer at our heart’s door, refusing to let fear inside to wreak havoc.
So here’s what that means for you and me: The more we believe in our state of belovedness before our Gracious Heavenly Father, the more the icy grip of fear begins to melt. In other words, the more you experience the unconditional love of Jesus, the less power fear actually has over you.
There are, of course, no magic formulas here. There is no secret switch. Even as Christians, our heart rates may still increase in moments of acute anxiety. Our palms may still sweat. Our cortisol may rise to a devilishly high level. But because our Savior crushed the head of all darkness and evil (the Devil) at the Cross, all lesser fears lose their staying power. In other words, fear does not get the final say. Christ does. So, in the words of Jesus himself: “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32).
Luke Kjolhaug is the pastor of Elim Lutheran Church in Osakis, MN and the author of Sinner Saint and Fear Not.