The Anti-Gospel of Fear

The Anti-Gospel of Fear

Psalm 27
Psalm for Second Sunday of Lent (Year C)

I hate horror movies. Hate. Hate. Hate. Scary flicks turn me into an irrational basketcase. In my head, I know that the odds of encountering a chainsaw-wielding maniac are near zero. Yet when I'm watching a horror movie, I am seized by an unhealthy fear. It floods my mental system and short circuits the way that I typically think.

Fear itself can be a good thing. It keeps us safe. Fear prevents us from running into a street filled with speeding cars. It warns us to not touch a hot stovetop. It keeps us from leaping off of tall buildings. We need to be afraid of things; it needs to be a part of our lives.

Fear becomes dangerous when it warps the way that we see the world around us. This unhealthy fear makes us see monsters in regular people and around every corner. Fear turns normal people into mortal enemies. It transforms minor disagreements into life-and-death struggles. It twists the rights and well-being of those different from us into threats to our very way of life. Fear becomes dangerous when we are baptized in it.

There are swaths of our culture that have been captured by this wretched rite. Cable news, Facebook posts, and partisan pundits have burned the acrid incense that has caused this culture to take shape. Again, there are certainly things in this world of which to be afraid, but this all-consuming terror makes us more fearful than we need to be. At a political rally in my home state, a man in a suit stumping for a presidential candidate performed fear's call-and-response with a crowd:

"How many of you feel safe right now?" McMasters asked.

"Nooooooooo!" the audience answered.

This was a large group at a political gathering who had no fear of the government shutting them down. The majority were not minorities. In the moment, they were safe. The contrast with the opening verses of this week's psalm are stark:

The Lord is my light and my salvation;
    whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life;
    of whom shall I be afraid?

When evildoers assail me
    to devour my flesh—
my adversaries and foes—
    they shall stumble and fall.

Though an army encamp against me,
    my heart shall not fear;
though war rise up against me,
    yet I will be confident.

Repeatedly scripture implores men and women to not be afraid. At the same time, it does not shy away from the fact that there are terrifying things out there in the world. But again and again, the essence of that question rises up "Whom shall I fear?"

I think it is because fear is a strong counter to the gospel that Jesus preached. When we are consumed by fear, it is nearly impossible for us to love God with our entire heart. When we are consumed by fear, it is nearly impossible for us to love our neighbor as ourselves. When we are consumed by fear, it is nearly impossible for us to love our enemy. When we are consumed by fear, it is nearly impossible to be peacemakers. When we are consumed by fear, it is nearly impossible to follow God because such an all-consuming fear tells the lie that the fear is bigger than God.

The psalmist faces many things of which to be fearful. Yet his focus and desire is to follow the ways of God. Even though he is besieged, the psalmist just desires to see God's face. He concludes:

I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord
    in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
    be strong, and let your heart take courage;
    wait for the Lord!

It is that spirit, and not one of fear, that ought to consume those who follow God. 

An Echo of Heartbreak

An Echo of Heartbreak

Dear Lent