Dear one,
Upon the occasion of his inauguration, March 4, 1933, three years after the stock market crash of ’29, Franklin Roosevelt offered those words, which a battered and depressed nation took to heart:
“So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is … fear itself — nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”
The sentiment and essence of his words might be traced back through Thoreau, Bacon, and Montaigne, thus suggesting that “the fearful consequences of fearing fear” had become a truism within the Western world. Perhaps as a consequence, many Americans of the 1930s truly believed Roosevelt and therein began to alter their behaviors.
Admittedly, as some have observed, if you have no bread upon the table and no means of securing even a thin slice for a family of seven, fear is justified and even reasonable. The issue for Roosevelt, however, was that fear, which might have paralyzed a great nation—a fear very similar to that fear which might have truly crippled a skilled leader, stricken by polio, from becoming our thirty-second president.
Because of covid, many have observed: Americans are afraid. Here too, the underlying issue becomes: Is this a fear, which paralyzes, or a fear, which motivates positive change? In our present circumstances, we have examples of both fears; but the difference between them, I believe, is a question of perception. That is, the latter fear, irrespective its source, believes that good lies beyond the present, fearful danger or calamity, whereas the former believes that nothing good, save further evil, lies beyond the present disaster or chaos.
Over the years, I have noted that “fear” is a consistent and/or frequent response within the New Testament narratives. For instance, “fear," which occurs 143 times in the New Testament, characterizes the first Advent experiences: Zechariah feared becoming a father; Mary feared bearing Messiah; Joseph feared marrying his betrothed; and the shepherds feared the Heavenly choir. In their encounter, each of these individuals sensed with reluctance that a world, a reality, a Person, well beyond themselves and their control—and perhaps beyond their liking—was opening before them. Through fear each could have resisted the Divine invitation; and each—I’m uncertain regarding the shepherds—found their lives forever changed. In that exchange, undoubtedly they learned that the One who encouraged, “Fear not”, proved to be good, faithful, and loving. Not all was easy, but He was present with them throughout
I wonder: Are you being asked: “Fear not”?
Stan