Fear of the Lord

I have been thinking a lot lately about fear of the Lord. 

Not in the traditional sense so much, although there is much to think about there as well. What has been on my mind is a very common idea that seems to circulate among non believers or non-seekers. The idea that religion, or maybe more precisely, faith, belief in a higher power, or an adherence to scripture is somehow based primarily out of fear. I will start off by saying I don't think this is actually true, but even if it were, so what? I mean every human being on the planet deals with fear. We understand through many great thinkers that the fear of death is one of man's biggest fears. I would add to that, that death is an illusion that we take for truth. Christ is a doorway to understand the actual Truth. The eternal can be experientially known. 

Most spiritual practices and religions, I believe aim to give one a sense of the eternal, both as God the Father, the Great Creator, but also in realizing our deep connection, communion through Christ with Him that can be experienced. A merging of sorts. So even if fear were a primary motivator, would that not be a good thing? Being able at least momentarily or in some part able to alleviate our fears of death, the ultimate unknown, into something greater and everlasting that we can know? Our ego would like us to believe that we are all the labels and roles we play, we are our thoughts and ideas, but Truth points to something more. We can find in deep prayer or meditation a place where thoughts subside and roles drop off and yet still we exist.

So what is it that people hate about fear? I know I personally used to have very adverse reactions to fear. Cowardice seemed weak and pathetic and made me feel angry. Strange ... yet I don't think this is uncommon. The sense that I get from nonbelievers who throw the fear accusation out seems to me to be that they are angry about this, sometimes even disgusted. I think as I reflected over time at some of my own negative reactions and the observance of others reactions I realize why. Fear is the opposite of Love. People want Love, whether they realize it or not, so they reject fear. They want to throw it back at the person that represents it to them. Their being says: 'Don't give me that nonsense, I want Love'.

True agape Love does indeed cast out all fear, yet it is scary for us to truly embrace, but why?  I think it does have to do with its truly awesome power and magnitude. When one looks up at the cosmos or experiences an earthquake or any great natural phenomenon, not only is it awe-inspiring but it is scary. That kind of greatness and power can be completely overwhelming and the sense of our own finite smallness can feel powerless. The ego is confronted face to face with the illusion of its existence being something real. 

Another interesting thought on this matter is the idea that psychologists  espouse and to me rings true —that people are in fact more fearful of success than failure. Isn't that interesting? It makes sense, who in their lives has not failed at something, so we know what that is. We may not like it, but we know it, therefore it is safe territory. Success on the other hand is the unknown, and that is scary. It seems that this explains self-sabotage, a strange way to protect one self from the scariness of the unknown. 

Another thing that I find people really hate about religion is the rules or laws, if believers stand by them. Again, the accusation is that one keeps them out of fear. The accusation is that the person is too weak and cowardly to think and act for themselves. But I think the anger in this accusation is misguided under the idea that somehow you have to follow all the rules in order to get it right and be worthy of Love. The classic perfectionist flaw: if I am not perfect am I still worthy of Love? 

Of course none of us are perfect, Christ's sermon on the mount seems to me the great and perfect example of just how far the law and spirit of the law go. Even your misplaced thought can get you into a great deal of trouble! Ironically if understood properly, this is a huge relief. We actually don't have to get it right, to have and receive Love, all we have to do is be willing to admit we don't have it all right and that's enough. 

Repent. Repent of the idea that we have it right, that we know it all. This I think is such an interesting point that so many non believers misinterpret. Even why many reject Christ. Is it a fear to really see their own sin, or the fear of the inability to get it right all the time? Or even a rejection to be told there is a right way and a wrong way? (yet all people do hold to a "religion" of rights and wrongs whether acknowledged or not). Are we afraid of accepting that which we all want, yet on some level we feel we don't actually deserve? Love. Maybe that in itself is a scary thing to actually confront. 

I don't believe people go to Christ or that follow religion do so out of fear. I believe they are drawn to something that the deepest levels of their being, whether understood intellectually or not, are drawn to as true. I think people look to scripture, not because they are unable to think and discern for themselves but because they want to dig deeper than a surface understanding. Repentance is not just about allieving personal guilt, but a way to surrender again and again to something greater. Fear is not just about some punishment in the afterlife, but fear of the awesomeness of God, of the unlimited potential, through whom all things are possible. Fear of our own greatness, that could lead us into unknown parts of our own being. 

It is very easy to sit on a soap box mocking the stupidity and simplicity of those who follow a book of rules and can't think for themselves, or entertain some silly idea that religious devotion makes one feel better about themselves for their awfulness by being washed clean with the blood of the Lamb. I beg to differ — it takes courage to confront ones own being, the deepest levels of ourselves. To not lie and believe the flattering illusions and false righteousness we give to our "good deeds" but knowing and surrendering to our own helplessness, and resting not in ourselves, but in something  greater than ourselves.