Courage is not the Absence of Fear

Courage is not the Absence of Fear

The definition of courage is not the absence of fear, but rather, in the face of overwhelming fear, to continue to do, say, and think upon, the right and the loving thing. This describes what is required of us in light of our current crisis in the face of this world-wide Covid-19 pandemic.  But, how do we do that?

It has been said that “fear not” is the most repeated command in the Bible, repeated 365 times, one for every day of the year. It was spoken to Zechariah[1] the priest when he was confronted by the surprise angelic “intruder” in the holy place while offering incense. At first, he was startled, then “gripped with fear.” We’ve all had experiences with fear where we were “startled,” kind of like a slap in the face. But, being “gripped with fear” is one step further - like being in a wrestling match and being put into a suffocating choke-hold that you can’t out of.

Gripped With Fear

I have sometimes felt this choke-hold of fear over the past few days. We’re being hit with repeated tsunami-sized waves of bad news, one after another. Stocks are falling. Businesses are going under. Layoffs. I saw one newspaper headline saying, “Are We Heading into a Depression?” and I immediately had images of myself standing in a food line waiting for a handout, and I felt short of breath. Fear can hijack your brain, and you make irrational decisions like hoarding.  I felt this pervading fear as I walked through the supermarket this week and saw empty shelves where I was used to seeing abundance. Then there’s the fear of Covid-19 itself, not of what it might do to me, but what I might pass on to someone else. How might my careless choices cause harm to others? What am I allowed to do and not to do?

Yet, in the midst of the most cataclysmic event of my lifetime, that eclipses even 9/11, as horrific as that was, God still says to us to “fear not.” Jesus’ command to “not worry” about what we will eat or wear was not confined to pre-Covid-19 days. It means now too, and of course, even more so.

In this week’s lectionary, David wrote in the Psalm, “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me…”  How timely! God is no less with us now, than God was with us before. The insidious thing about fear in the darkness is you are not fully aware of what you are afraid of. You just know that you should be afraid, and your imagination goes to work to fill in the blanks.

Spiritual “Judo”

So, again, how do we not be afraid in the face of overwhelming panic and fear? I think the first step is counterintuitive, kind of like “spiritual judo,” and that is to actually face the fear head-on, to name the fear and to acknowledge the fear - even welcome it![2] Sound strange? This is much preferred to denying it, medicating it, suppressing it with Netflix, drugs, alcohol, porn. When you name it, you bring it into the light. You can do so because of the One who is with you. You are in the presence of the One who loves you infinitely, and that changes everything. Some people find it helpful to write it out in a journal; others verbally with a trusted friend. Just a caution that if you do this with each other, avoid becoming “Job’s comforters” and try to fix or correct each other because we’re not comfortable living in this confusing “in-between.” Simply be a loving presence.  Please give children the space and opportunity to voice their fears in a safe place. Whatever way works best for you, you can name your fears, because God is with you, Immanuel.

I should say that along with the fear, there are usually other emotions that tag along to be acknowledged, like anger. This is so true today. We feel anger that our way of life has been so rudely interrupted. Anger that people are acting so carelessly and selfishly in this time of panic. There is also grief and loss. Already the losses are mounting. In addition to the economic losses, there are cancelled holidays and travel, special events, grads, and playoffs. Our way of life may never be the same. We will rebuild and recover but our world has already been unalterably changed. These losses must be acknowledged and named along with the fears.

The Gift of Lament

Once these fears and losses have been acknowledged, it is essential to grieve them in the presence of God. Avoid the extremes of denial and panic through the gift of lament.[3] Lament is a gift that God has given us to grieve our losses, express our fears, our anger, and our pain, through words, song, art and tears. It is an act of worship and an act of faith. One-third of the Psalms are lament songs – songs about grief, anger, pain, and loss. There’s a whole book in the Bible called “Lamentations,” or crying. Lament is how we worship God in the confusing in-between, that time in our lives when nothing makes sense, and God’s promises seem to have been forgotten.

Grieving in Hope

And finally, remember that we do not grieve as though who have no hope. We wait in hope. We will get through this and we will be better for it because God is good, and God is always working for our best.  May the morning bring word of your unfailing love,[4] the Psalmist wrote. “God’s mercies are new every morning,” cried Jeremiah in the midst of his epic lament! [5] Allow the old to birth the new. Watch for signs of grace and hope. I’ve noticed creation has been so brilliant since this crisis broke – it’s like someone forgot to tell the birds and the blossoms how bad everything is. The morning birdsong seems more clear and melodic. At night, the stars seem brighter as Kathleen and I have walked through our neighbourhood. The cherry blossoms and snowcapped mountains are breathtaking. Springtime is coming.

I saw something yesterday in our city that I’ve never seen before. After a week of seeing anxiety etched on people’s faces – in the supermarkets, staff and customers, people on the street, all under stress, no eye contact, where fear reigned, something seemed to break yesterday. I noticed it first on my morning run. People were giving me social distance as I passed them, but instead of ignoring me, they were making eye contact, smiling, and waving, as if to say, “Don’t take it personally, you’re still a human being!” I saw neighbours pulling out their lawn chairs on our front boulevard and visiting with one another while following social distancing guidelines – some who had never done that in my 19 years of living on this block! I know that there is still much to face and get through in the coming days, with many emotional ups and downs, but yesterday I saw a ray of light and I wept.  It is ironic that the social isolation we are being asked to do is really a picture of the way we have been living. Vancouver is one of the loneliest cities in the world. Are we getting an object lesson of how horrific this kind of lifestyle is? Is this mandated “social distancing” going to actually bring us together in ways more profound than we can possibly imagine? Will what we think is a virus actually be a cure for our real disease?

So, while we continue to exercise the cautions of social distancing, handwashing and otherwise protocols issued by Bonnie Henry, our wonderful health officer for BC, continue to be kind and generous. Continue to pray for God’s intervention in this crisis. Continue to sing. Continue to do things you love that you are able to. Continue to cry and to grieve as you need to, and together we will more and more, move through our fears into love. 

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[1] Luke 1:5ff

[2] See Rumi’s beautiful poem, “The Guest House.”

[3] I am so grateful to Peter Scazzero for some of these insights from his courses on Emotionally Healthy Spirituality which we have taken our church through.

[4] Psalm 143:8

[5] Lamentations 3:23