Dan B. Allender & Tremper Longman III
Some excerpts about "fear":
'[...] Death, pain, and suffering are dangers that lurk behind every corner and under every bed. Most of us realize at an early age that danger exists, and that it can destroy us. And we know that we are impotent against the inevitability of death.
The book of Ecclesiastes drives home the significance of the horror of death. The teacher fully realizes that death not only brings life to a tragic conclusion, it renders meaningless every earthly status and achievement.
We fear physical and personal death. We fear dissolution, fragmentation, coming apart at the seams, non-being. We feel fear whenever death—the dissolution of order and coherence—plunges us into the dark unknown.
The psalmist, too, feared death. He did not try to hide his fear from God. Especially when he was sick (and there are a number of psalms sung by the psalmist when he was sick), he cried out in terror to the Lord to save him from the grave. Psalm 30 is actually a thanksgiving psalm, giving praise to God for saving the psalmist from death, but in the process of celebrating his healing, the psalmist quotes his earlier lament to God:
What gain is there in my destruction,
in my going down into the pit?
Will the dust praise you?
Will it proclaim your faithfulness?
Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me;
O Lord, be my help.
The book of Ecclesiastes drives home the significance of the horror of death. The teacher fully realizes that death not only brings life to a tragic conclusion, it renders meaningless every earthly status and achievement.
We fear physical and personal death. We fear dissolution, fragmentation, coming apart at the seams, non-being. We feel fear whenever death—the dissolution of order and coherence—plunges us into the dark unknown.
The psalmist, too, feared death. He did not try to hide his fear from God. Especially when he was sick (and there are a number of psalms sung by the psalmist when he was sick), he cried out in terror to the Lord to save him from the grave. Psalm 30 is actually a thanksgiving psalm, giving praise to God for saving the psalmist from death, but in the process of celebrating his healing, the psalmist quotes his earlier lament to God:
What gain is there in my destruction,
in my going down into the pit?
Will the dust praise you?
Will it proclaim your faithfulness?
Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me;
O Lord, be my help.
(Psalms 30:9–10)
At the heart of the fear of death is the terror of separation. Death is the ultimate experience of loneliness. When we die, those things and people who give us joy are gone forever. Indeed, when seen apart from the gospel, death separates us even from ourselves.
Death is a physical reality, but it is also symbolic. We feel fear when core, life-giving dreams that are the basis of our personal identity are threatened with extinction.'
At the heart of the fear of death is the terror of separation. Death is the ultimate experience of loneliness. When we die, those things and people who give us joy are gone forever. Indeed, when seen apart from the gospel, death separates us even from ourselves.
Death is a physical reality, but it is also symbolic. We feel fear when core, life-giving dreams that are the basis of our personal identity are threatened with extinction.'
'[...] The reality of death drives home the fact that everyone experiences fear. Even if your life is perfect, every relationship a success, and every aspect of your life in order, you have something to fear—the dark, unknown reality of death. Indeed, I would argue that those who are most happy in this life are also the most fearful of death. Death means separation from the status you get from your work, the respect you receive from others, the benefits of your material possessions, the presence of your loved ones.'
'[...] Danger also exposes our impotence to preserve what matters most to us: our happiness. The more important the concern, the more helpless we are to preserve it. I can keep my yard green and virtually free from weeds. But I cannot ensure that my children will grow in the Lord and be free from the entanglements of sin.
Daily life tends to shield us from our real helplessness to the extent that it preserves our illusion of power and control. We can plan a trip or finish a project, and we feel powerful. But the effect of our labor can be undone in an instant, and we are helpless to keep that dissolution at bay.'
Daily life tends to shield us from our real helplessness to the extent that it preserves our illusion of power and control. We can plan a trip or finish a project, and we feel powerful. But the effect of our labor can be undone in an instant, and we are helpless to keep that dissolution at bay.'
'[...] It feels like I can’t win. The weeds of life seem destined to invade my garden. The harder I try to make life work, the more I seem to be assaulted from every side. When I decide to spend more time with the kids, something seems to spring out of the calendar to hinder my good intention. When I make a little extra money, the car breaks down. It is the second law of thermodynamics: entropy, decay, the rising tide of decline at work in every object, physical body, and relationship. It seems I am stuck with intermittent success, followed by the resurgence of more weeds.
We want control; we hate failure. The more we sense the possibility of personal or physical death, the greater our helplessness. Therefore, the more impotent we see ourselves, the greater our fear. Once our fears warn us that we are helpless, the only solution seems to be flight.'
We want control; we hate failure. The more we sense the possibility of personal or physical death, the greater our helplessness. Therefore, the more impotent we see ourselves, the greater our fear. Once our fears warn us that we are helpless, the only solution seems to be flight.'
'[...] Fear is the strategy of flight: the flip side of anger. Both are responses to threat and danger. Anger attacks the threat; fear withdraws from it. Fear cringes before something or someone who might hurt us physically or psychologically. We respond in flight when we view the danger as being greater than our resources and determine that self-preservation is a higher good than engagement with the danger.
Fear serves a beneficial function in a fallen world. It warns us to take precautions, to hold back from certain people and situations. In this sense, fear operates analogously to pain. Pain warns us that something threatens damage to the body and we recoil from it.
Without pain we would be in terrible shape. Think of being barefoot and stepping on something sharp like a tack. As soon as your foot touches the tack you jump to do whatever is necessary to remove it. If you didn’t feel any pain, you wouldn’t notice it was there until you happened to see it—and by that time infection might be setting in. The experience of pain isn’t pleasant, but the alternative is much worse. It’s the same with fear.'
Fear serves a beneficial function in a fallen world. It warns us to take precautions, to hold back from certain people and situations. In this sense, fear operates analogously to pain. Pain warns us that something threatens damage to the body and we recoil from it.
Without pain we would be in terrible shape. Think of being barefoot and stepping on something sharp like a tack. As soon as your foot touches the tack you jump to do whatever is necessary to remove it. If you didn’t feel any pain, you wouldn’t notice it was there until you happened to see it—and by that time infection might be setting in. The experience of pain isn’t pleasant, but the alternative is much worse. It’s the same with fear.'
'[...] The Dark Side of Fear
Although withdrawal is frequently an appropriate response in a fallen world, fear can turn obsessive—clutching our hearts, inhibiting our activity and our enjoyment of God and His world. Instead of helping us, this kind of fear can cripple us.
For some, fear is so overwhelming that they cannot leave their house. These are extreme cases. However, many of us find that worry significantly holds us back from life.'
Although withdrawal is frequently an appropriate response in a fallen world, fear can turn obsessive—clutching our hearts, inhibiting our activity and our enjoyment of God and His world. Instead of helping us, this kind of fear can cripple us.
For some, fear is so overwhelming that they cannot leave their house. These are extreme cases. However, many of us find that worry significantly holds us back from life.'
'[...] It’s natural to want to keep problems at bay. But some people are so successful at putting up protective shields that they create a sheltered cocoon where nothing and nobody can touch them. In this case, fear no longer protects; it imprisons.'
'[...] Many strong emotions distort reality, but fear does so in particular ways. One of its distortions is a false perception of ourselves. We seem weaker than we really are, and more accountable as well. Generally, in the response of fear we tend to blame ourselves; in the response of anger we tend to blame others. In blaming ourselves, we gain the illusion of having control over some perceived failure that we feel we can and must change.
Fear also distorts our perception of the nature of the dangers facing us. If we think the threat is far beyond our ability to cope with it, then flight seems perfectly natural.'
Fear also distorts our perception of the nature of the dangers facing us. If we think the threat is far beyond our ability to cope with it, then flight seems perfectly natural.'
'[...] Fear distorts our sense of reality. Our enemies seem huge and all-powerful. Nowhere in the Bible is this expressed more vividly than in Isaiah 30:17
A thousand will flee
at the threat of one;
at the threat of five
you will all flee away,
till you are left
like a flagstaff on a mountaintop,
like a banner on a hill.
The enemy seems overwhelming; we seem weak, inadequate, and alone. And God? He is nowhere to be found. Tom could have said with the psalmist (Psalms 22:12–13):
Many bulls surround me;
strong bulls of Bashan encircle me.
Roaring lions tearing their prey
open their mouths wide against me.'
A thousand will flee
at the threat of one;
at the threat of five
you will all flee away,
till you are left
like a flagstaff on a mountaintop,
like a banner on a hill.
The enemy seems overwhelming; we seem weak, inadequate, and alone. And God? He is nowhere to be found. Tom could have said with the psalmist (Psalms 22:12–13):
Many bulls surround me;
strong bulls of Bashan encircle me.
Roaring lions tearing their prey
open their mouths wide against me.'
'[...] As with all strong emotions, fear can consume our minds. In the world of opera, a “Leitmotif” is a dominant tune or musical phrase that recurs throughout the whole work. Our minds often operate that way. Our fearful thoughts recur until they dominate our thinking. What is the key to controlling them?'
'[...] Laura spoke in a hush: “In the quiet moments at the end of the day, when you’re not thinking of what must be done, when your mind is not filled with activity and noise, do you feel pleasure or do you feel fear?”.
Therapists often avoid answering direct questions. The firm intensity of her eyes and the commanding power of her voice compelled me (Dan) to answer. “More often than not”, I admitted, “I feel nothing but exhaustion”.
Her glance was intense: “I feel fear when exhaustion has taken away my ability to remain numb”.
Her suffering had taught her that exhaustion does not hide feeling—it strips away the facade of balance and the pretense of control. Her husband, a good man, had recently died at forty-three. She was now single in a world of couples.'
Therapists often avoid answering direct questions. The firm intensity of her eyes and the commanding power of her voice compelled me (Dan) to answer. “More often than not”, I admitted, “I feel nothing but exhaustion”.
Her glance was intense: “I feel fear when exhaustion has taken away my ability to remain numb”.
Her suffering had taught her that exhaustion does not hide feeling—it strips away the facade of balance and the pretense of control. Her husband, a good man, had recently died at forty-three. She was now single in a world of couples.'
'[...] There’s no getting away from the reality that fear is basic to human existence. But the counsel of Scripture indicates that resolving our fear requires us to struggle with our deepest allegiance: it all boils down not to whether we fear, but what and whom we fear.'
'[...] Fear clarifies by exposing who (and what) we serve. It can be classified in two categories: fear of the world or fear of God. Fear of the world always relates to the potential death of our agenda—to create a world as close to Eden as possible. Most of our fears arise out of our demand to gain a degree of pleasure, honor, meaning, and joy in a world that more often hands us pain, shame, chaos, and sorrow. The fear of the world is another way of describing the fear of what life—of what others—may do to me.'
'[...] We think of God as being radically other in His omniscience, omnipotence, and omnipresence. Indeed, He is. But He is most radically other in His love. To fear God is to fear His intense, radically other-centered love. Perfect love casts out fear, because that kind of love is more frightening than any fear of earthly harm. We are terrified of love—we should be, because it is so alien and unknown.
What does it mean to fear God? It means to be anxious and eager to greet Him. It means to build our lives around the call of being His bride, to anticipate the pleasure of love and the aroma of passion. To fear God is to be consumed with His presence.
If we fear God, how can we fear the vain efforts of human beings and worldly institutions? After all, big fears make little fears go away. Our life might be filled with fears about a multitude of daily circumstances, but if a doctor suddenly announced that we had only six months to live due to inoperable cancer, all those daily fears would melt away before the news.
God is the One we should fear most of all. When we disorient ourselves by being less afraid of God than something else, we get into trouble. When we fear something else, we forget about fearing God. This is what happened to the Israelites who lived during the time of Isaiah, so that God had to confront them by saying (Isaiah 57:11):
Whom have you so dreaded and feared
that you have been false to me,
and have neither remembered me
nor pondered this in your hearts?
Is it not because I have long been silent
that you do not fear me?'
What does it mean to fear God? It means to be anxious and eager to greet Him. It means to build our lives around the call of being His bride, to anticipate the pleasure of love and the aroma of passion. To fear God is to be consumed with His presence.
If we fear God, how can we fear the vain efforts of human beings and worldly institutions? After all, big fears make little fears go away. Our life might be filled with fears about a multitude of daily circumstances, but if a doctor suddenly announced that we had only six months to live due to inoperable cancer, all those daily fears would melt away before the news.
God is the One we should fear most of all. When we disorient ourselves by being less afraid of God than something else, we get into trouble. When we fear something else, we forget about fearing God. This is what happened to the Israelites who lived during the time of Isaiah, so that God had to confront them by saying (Isaiah 57:11):
Whom have you so dreaded and feared
that you have been false to me,
and have neither remembered me
nor pondered this in your hearts?
Is it not because I have long been silent
that you do not fear me?'
'[...] C.S. Lewis pictures the fear of God in his classic Narnia tale The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Mr. and Mrs. Beaver are describing to Lucy and Peter the one who can rescue Narnia from evil and danger: a lion named Aslan {significa "leão", em turco}. Lucy is not so sure that she’s ready to meet such a dangerous creature and asks if he’s safe. “Safe?”, Mr. Beaver reacts. “Don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you”.'
'[...] Fear is flight away from harm. It is the product of helplessness, weakness brought about by a feeling of inadequacy and lack of control. If we demand control and success, we will be destroyed, because in a sinful world our weaknesses will continually be exposed. But if we submit to God instead of demanding control, and serve God instead of insisting on success, then we will be changed, and our fears will dissipate. God’s sovereignty is the ultimate issue as we face this choice. If we clutch desperately for success and control, we deny His power. If we exercise the privilege of submission and service, we acknowledge it.'