Advent 2, Peace: No fear?

But God loves us perfectly

Hebrews 13:5-6 God has said, “I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.” So we can say with confidence, “The Lord is my helper, so I will have no fear. What can mere people do to me?”

1 John 4:16-18 We know how much God loves us, and we have put our trust in his love. … Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear.”

Some people had trouble posting responses to the question in my last blog (no idea why—I hope it fixes itself) and wrote me by email. I asked Elaine whether I could quote part of what she wrote:

“Fearing God eliminates our other fears.  As John says, his perfect love removes them.  And Romans 8 is so beautiful in affirming that nothing can separate us from his love.  So both of these things give me peace no matter what crazy and terrible things are going on.”

I’ve been thinking about this, and how it works in my life practically. Last week, I said to a friend, “I lived in fear for thirty years—the thirty years of Karis’s life. Her wellbeing turned on a dime. I walked in high alert. She could be well in the morning and fighting for her life in the ICU by afternoon. All plans were held loosely …”

Evaluate with me the statement that I “lived in fear for thirty years.” On the face of the Scriptures quoted above and Elaine’s affirmation, it seems I was telling my friend I didn’t trust God or his love. Some of the most profound hurts that I suffered were from people telling me (who didn’t live the Karis reality 24/7 or understand more than surface facts about what it entailed) that I was in sin because I was afraid.

Is it true that in my fear I didn’t trust God? I don’t think so. Is it possible there is a difference between fear in response to specific frightening circumstances, and fear as an existential state that bars us from the comfort God can give us? It was exactly because I trusted God that I could express my fears to him. I knew that HE would not stand apart and judge me or criticize my “spirituality.” He instead walked with me through the dark valleys.

Fear is, after all, an emotion that warns us of trouble or threat. It helps us recognize when all is not well; when action needs to be taken. Healthy, appropriate fear can save us from taking life-threatening risks. We teach our children not to run into the street without looking both ways, because cars can kill them. It’s appropriate to fear what wind and waves can do to us (yes, there are family stories behind this example, that involve exhaustion and jellyfish stings and … ). We call someone “foolhardy” when they choose to swim despite red high hazard signs on the beach (thinking of you, David Kornfield). Having no fear can literally kill us.

Another thought: Often fear is linked to our sense of impotence, our lack of control over circumstances or other people’s choices. Sometimes this leads to blaming God for things that happen to us or to people we care about. What does it mean to me in my everyday life that God is in control of the universe? Doesn’t he see me? If he loves me, and has all power, why doesn’t he act to remove my suffering or the suffering of others? This age-old question is called “theodicy.” Suffering forces us into asking these questions.

As you can tell, I’m not offering any pat answers here. I want to engage you in thinking more deeply about your own suffering, your own fears. And whether peace, biblical all-encompassing shalom, is a reality in your life, and if so, what pathway you walked to discover and experience the “perfect love that expels all fear.” Join the conversation!

Like newborn babies

But God offers spiritual milk

1 Peter 2:1-2 Be done with all deceit, hypocrisy, jealousy, and all unkind speech. Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk so that you will grow into a full experience of salvation. Cry out for this nourishment, now that you have had a taste of the Lord’s kindness.

Psalm 34:8 Taste and see that the Lord is good.

My granddaughter scrunches her face. “Yuck!”

“But you haven’t even tasted it! I promise you, this tastes good. I’m quite sure you’ll like it.”

She pushes the plate away. “I won’t. I can tell.”

“Just a tiny taste.”

“No!”

I sigh. Is this battle one I want to fight today? I finally convince her to try a tiny taste. She makes a horrible face and spits it out.

“See? I told you I wouldn’t like it.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Cucumber slices and baby carrots and tomatoes. And sweet peppers. Four of each because I’m four.”

I can live with that.

The next week I serve the yucky food and don’t say anything about it. She eats it with gusto.

“How often am I like a four-year-old?” I muse. “The struggle isn’t really about food. It’s about whether she gets to choose for herself. Like she used to say, I can do this ‘my byself.’”

You too? From the overflowing table of God’s provision for us, what nourishment do you crave today?

I crave words of kindness and gentleness. Understanding. Hope. I want to know the Lord is with me; that he perceives the weight of my concerns and is willing to share them. Today, I am drawn to drink from Psalms 145 (one of Karis’s favorites), 146, 147:

The Lord is merciful and compassionate, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love … The Lord always keeps his promises; he is gracious in all he does. The eyes of all look to you in hope; you give them their food as they need it. … The Lord is close to all who call on him (145:8, 13-15, 18).

Joyful are those who have God as their helper, whose hope is in the Lord their God. … The Lord lifts up those who are weighed down (146:5, 8).

The Lord heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds. … His understanding is beyond comprehension! … The Lord delights in those who fear him, those who put their hope in his unfailing love (147:3, 5, 11).

I feel the Lord’s benevolent smile as I savor this spiritual milk, relaxing into his love and kindness. And in the fact that though he gives me choices, he is in control; I’m not. All will be well.

What will you drink today? It’s your choice!