70 Sermon Illustrations on Anxiety

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life; of +whom shall I be afraid? — Psalm 27:1.

The skillful physician has a hand in helping heal the sick body, but the Great Physician (the Lord) is more than glad to cure the doubts and fears of those who seek Him in prayer — in faith, believing. So, please do not merely toss when you cannot sleep be-cause of some real or imagined worriment. Take out your Bible, turn on the light, and you may be surprised to find how special Bible verses can help to clear away over anxious thoughts, and bring God nearer with healing of body and soul. — F. E. Breck (Alt).

God’s strength will lift the needy; God’s light will show thy way;

His Word will speak salvation — and comfort you today.

God understands your problems; His love companions you:

Let Him direct each action — and teach you what to do.

Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature? —Luke 12:25 Hans Christian Andersen, author of such well-known fairy tales as “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” had a phobia of being buried alive. As a result, he always carried a note in his pocket telling anyone who might find him unconscious not to assume he was dead. He often left another note on his bedside table stating, “I only seem dead.” Such was his anxiety until he finally succumbed to cancer in 1875.

We may think such a fear is strange, but do we have fears that will someday look just as irrational? Is it possible that the day will come when we look back and marvel at our own anxieties? Will we one day wonder at that foolish person who chose to worry rather than to pray? Will time eventually cast us as a pitiful person who was plagued by fear because we did not face life with the resources lavished on us by the Almighty Lord of the universe?

Worrying doesn’t change anything. But trusting the Lord changes everything about the way we view life.

Forgive us, Lord, for our inclination to worry. Help us to see how foolish it is for us to worry about what You have promised to provide. Don’t let us bury ourselves alive with fears. —MRDII

A Strategy For Winning Over Worry

Identify specific worries.

Work to change what you can.

Leave what you can’t change with God.

When we put our cares in God’s hands, He puts His peace in our hearts.

“Casting all your cares upon Him, for He careth for you.” I Peter 5:7.

There are two kinds of care in this text. There is anxious care, in the words, “Casting all your care upon Him”; and there is affectionate care, in the words, “He careth for you.” Over against all our own anxious care is our Saviour’s never-failing affectionate care.

Take the first part of the text: “Casting all your care upon Him.” That word, “casting”, is in the aorist tense in the Greek, which means once for all. In fact, the Greek aorist participle here might well be rendered, “once for all having cast.” There is one sense, of course, in which we cannot cast upon Him all the anxieties of days yet to come, for we do not know what a day may bring forth; yet we can say, “Lord, whatever cares may be coming, I cast them all in advance on Thee.” Yes, we can do that once for all, if we will; and, oh, what mental relief it brings!

Notice next that we are to cast “all” our care upon Him; not only the larger but the lesser; not only the spiritual but the material; not only in general but in par- ticular; not only part of the time but all the time. He Himself invites us to do this.

Look again at that word, “care”. Perhaps a better translation would be “anxiety”. Nowadays there is more than a shade of difference between care and anxiety. None of us can escape cares, but we may be free from anxiety. We cannot hand over our cares to Jesus in the sense of exemption from them; but we can transfer the weight of them to Him; so that if we must still carry them, He will carry us. Weymouth aptly renders the clause, “Throw the whole weight of your anxiety upon Him.”

And now take the further clause: “For He careth for you.” How per- suasively it invites us to lay our anxiety upon Him! Think again how powerful He is: “HE (who upholds the very universe) careth for you.” Think again how sympathetic He is. Instead of “He careth for you”, we might render the Greek more idiomatically, “It really matters to Him about you.” Think again how near to us He is. He is not only with us, He actually indwells us by His Spirit. Think again how constant He is. The verb is in the present and continuous tense — “He careth”, every day and every hour. Oh, what encouragements these are to us, to roll the burden of our anxiety upon Him!

During the terrible days of the “Indian Mutiny”, when the beleaguered refugees in Lucknow were almost starved into surrender to the rebel sepoys, one morning a Scottish girl put her ear to the ground, and then sprang up shouting, “The Campbells are coming!” She had caught the sound of the bagpipes. Soon after, the city was saved. Careworn Christian, put your ear to this text again, and hear the dear Saviour coming to your rescue! “Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you.”

I was diagnosed with Hodgkin lymphoma earlier this year. It was shocking; cancer diagnoses usually are. The treatments were unpleasant; cancer treatments usually are. I thank God that my final chemo treatment was two months ago and my scans showed no sign of the disease remaining.

As I begin my new phase of life as a cancer survivor, a new enemy has crept in: anxiety.

I find myself worrying that it will come back. I worry about possible long-term effects from chemo. I worry that I’ll be afflicted by another type of cancer or a completely different disease in the future.

While I was in the hospital waiting for my initial biopsy results, I had a strange peace. After months of uncertainty, we had a name for the symptoms I was experiencing. There was a standard treatment with an excellent response rate, and I was under the care of experienced doctors. During treatments I had some difficult moments, but I looked forward to the end and couldn’t wait to get back to normal.

Now that I have moved on to the next phase, I’m finding that anxiety can be crippling if not addressed and confessed daily.

As we suffer trauma, sometimes in the moment we don’t fully process what’s happening. We’re just in fight mode and do what we have to do to get through. When the dust clears and we start to make sense of everything, the deeper feelings come out.

Anxiety feels different when you have actually experienced something life-changing. The event serves as justification for future worry: That awful thing happened that one time, so who’s to say that this new thing I’m worried about is not a legitimate concern?

Jesus gives us plenty of instruction about anxiety in Matthew 6:25–34. He tells us plainly: Don’t worry about your life. Don’t worry about tomorrow. But why are these commands from our Lord so hard to follow?

I’m convinced that to move on, we have to give up. We have to give up a lot of things that we love, that we cling to, that we rely on. If we don’t, we’ll never make it.

We certainly have to give up the illusion of control. You can live a healthy lifestyle, but you can never guarantee that you won’t get cancer or another debilitating disease. You can drive safely, but you can’t prevent someone else from crashing into you. You can cling to your loved ones, but you can’t guarantee their safety. There’s literally no other option but to trust God.

I have repeated Matthew 6:27 to myself often during this period of my life: “Can any of you add one moment to his life-span by worrying?” This is a very practical statement from our Lord -- worrying doesn’t change circumstances. I wasn’t able to prevent getting cancer by worrying about it, and God saw fit to heal me without any assistance from me.

To worry about our lives is to demonstrate a lack of trust in God and His good plan. He tells us repeatedly in His Word that He loves us and cares about us. He showed us His love in a very definitive way at the cross. Jesus’ sacrifice involved more physical, emotional and spiritual pain than most of us will ever have to experience, but it was part of the good plan of our good God.

We also have to give up our idols -- the things and people that we value more than the will of God.

For me, my biggest idol has been my marriage. At the time of my diagnosis, I was engaged to a wonderful man. We worked with my doctors to plan my treatment schedule around the wedding date, and we had a wonderful ceremony right at the mid-point in my treatments. I had longed for marriage for so long, and I wasn’t ready to let go for anything. Even the thought that I might not be able to live a long and happy life with my husband was too much to bear.

God’s priorities for us might be different than our priorities. He promises to provide for our needs as we seek first His Kingdom (v. 33), but He knows what we need better than we do. We need to be prepared that He might allow us to lose the things we love the most, including our families or our own lives.

I encourage anyone who has experienced trauma or debilitating anxiety to seek assistance from a counselor or doctor. But it’s also worth it to reflect on what you’re holding on to. If we hold on tightly to our lives, we will worry that things won’t work out the way we want them to. Jesus has already guaranteed that we will have troubles (v. 34), so there’s no question that we will all experience seasons of pain, loss and disappointment. We need to give up so that we can trust God and free ourselves from the anxiety that will keep us from seeking and desiring His will.

[article is followed by an interview with Horton]

According to Wall Street’s “Fear-Greed Index,” it is “Extreme Fear” that is driving the market right now [April 2020] in the wake of COVID-19. It’s not just the coronavirus. Everybody seems to be anxious, checking the 24-hour news cycles for the next jolt to our insecurity. Besides their health, many are afraid of losing their job or personal freedom. Many are gripped by the fear of economic collapse, while others are anxious about environmental collapse. Many Christians are fearful of the collapse of a thinly-veiled Christian order. Others worship security and therefore are fearful of anyone and anything that leaders or the media construct as threatening it. You get my point. It’s all about control. What we’re most afraid of losing tells us who or what we worship, where we place our trust.

The first test of whether we are actually worshipping the right God is fear. That’s right: Fear. While being afraid of all sorts of things is a sign of sanity these days, the fear of God seems quite insane not only to unbelieving neighbors but even in the church. It’s not surprising that the God of the Bible is increasingly rejected in wider American society, since in even evangelical circles he is frequently reduced to a supporting actor in our life movie: a means to the end of our own health, wealth, and happiness. In ordinary conversations, even among Christians, we express fear of just about any threat to our well-being but meet stares or raised eyebrows if we mention fearing God.

Even in more conservative contexts, the reading of a “fear of God” passage is often followed up quickly with explanation, dying the death of a thousand qualifications. The upshot is that fear doesn’t really mean fear. It means something more like respect. But respect may be registered in no more than a polite gesture. No, fear means fear. It means that God alone is terrifying in his glory, righteous in his judgments, and merciful to all who call on his name. The right kind of fear, godly fear, “casts out fear” and leads to trust and love (1 John 4:18). The downgrading of the fear of God is misguided for at least two reasons.

1. Sanity requires that we live with the grain of reality and the sovereign God is more real than we are.

In fact, he is life and gives life — creaturely life — to us and to everything he has made. Like the visible sun, God exists and sends forth his rays of goodness regardless of whether we acknowledge him. Even when the clouds of his inscrutable providence obscure his presence, he is there, drawing our eyes to him.

Remember Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. Strolling on his palace rooftop, he marveled at “this great Babylon which I have built,” and God drove him into the desert, living like a wild animal. Happily, that wasn’t the end of the story. God used it to show the king that he was insane, not living in reality.

At the end of the days I, Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my eyes to heaven, and my reason returned to me, and I blessed the Most High, and praised and honored him who lives forever, for his dominion is an everlasting dominion, and his kingdom endures from generation to generation; all the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, and he does according to his will among the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand or say to him, “What have you done?” At the same time my reason returned to me, and for the glory of my kingdom, my majesty and splendor returned to me. (Daniel 4:34-36)

2. The good fear of God dispels the bad fear of anyone or anything else.

Downplaying the fear of God, we are not only failing to give God his due but are depriving ourselves and each other of the only antidote to the crippling fears that haunt us. Fearing God extinguishes paralyzing fear of anyone or anything else.

If we replace the atomic bomb with the coronavirus, C.S. Lewis’ counsel in 1948 hits home as yet another reminder of how differently the sanity of God’s Word shapes our discipleship in tough times:

In one way we think a great deal too much of the atomic bomb. ‘How are we to live in an atomic age?’ I am tempted to reply: ‘Why, as you would have lived in the sixteenth century when the plague visited London almost every year, or as you would have lived in a Viking age when raiders from Scandinavia might land and cut your throat any night; or indeed, as you are already living in an age of cancer, an age of syphilis, an age of paralysis, an age of air raids, an age of railway accidents, an age of motor accidents.

In other words, do not let us begin by exaggerating the novelty of our situation. Believe me, dear sir or madam, you and all whom you love were already sentenced to death before the atomic bomb was invented: and quite a high percentage of us are going to die in unpleasant ways. We had, indeed, one very great advantage over our ancestors–anesthetics; but we have that still. It is perfectly ridiculous to go about whimpering and drawing long faces because the scientists have added one more chance of painful and premature death to a world which already bristled with such chances and in which death itself was not a chance at all, but a certainty.

This is the first point to be made: and the first action to be taken is to pull ourselves together. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes to find us doing sensible and human things — praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts — not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.[1]

As Nebuchadnezzar discovered, we recover our sanity when we lift our eyes to heaven. We’re back in line with reality. We’re not in charge, and never have been. We can’t create or save ourselves. But we have been created and saved by God in Jesus Christ! Now we can see the needs all around us, our own and those of our neighbors and the creation, as opportunities rather than threats. We want to play our part in curbing the spread of the virus. We are called to defend the life of our neighbors, especially the most vulnerable: the unborn, our aging elders, the poor, orphans, widows and all victims of injustice. We are called to be good stewards of God’s creation. But this is because we fear God rather than anyone or anything else.

Not even death threatens us because it is the “last enemy” whose claim on believers in Christ has been rendered null and void (1 Corinthians 15:50-57). We care for this world not because it will be destroyed but because it will be restored (Rom 8:18-25). Our lives are now driven outward to our neighbors instead of being turned in on ourselves. We are fueled by freedom, not fear, “for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control” (2 Timothy 1:7). The real headline should be, “It’s Easter!” Indeed, each Lord’s Day we gather to celebrate Christ’s resurrection.

When we fear God, all other fears become not manageable by human pride but subdued by the God of promise and deliverance. Like Nebuchadnezzar, we sometimes need to learn it the hard way. But since we’re made for communion with God, the outcome justifies the hard providences. “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight” (Proverbs 9:10) and the wisdom of God is Christ (1 Corinthians 1:30).

The fear of God leads to trust and trust bears the fruit of the Spirit, for a harvest of blessings for ourselves and for others. If God uses difficult providences to cure us of our insanity and to bring us to rest in him, what outcome could be better? It’s not just “Keep Calm and Carry On,” but

Trust in the LORD with all your heart,

and do not lean on your own understanding.

In all your ways acknowledge him,

and he will make straight your paths.

Be not wise in your own eyes;

fear the LORD, and turn away from evil.

It will be healing to your flesh

and refreshment to your bones (Proverbs 3:5-8).

________

Notes

1. C. S. Lewis, “On Living in an Atomic Age,” in Present Concerns (Harvest Books, 2002), 78-80.

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Fear God and Do Not Fear: An Interview with Michael Horton, by Jonathan Petersen, June 28, 2022

How does cultivating a healthy fear of God liberate us from our fear of others, our fear of the future, and even our fear of death itself? What does the Bible mean when it says “fear God and do not be afraid”? How can we live with a fear of God that drives out the fear of everything else?

Bible Gateway interviewed Dr. Michael Horton about his book, Recovering Our Sanity: How the Fear of God Conquers the Fears that Divide Us (Zondervan, 2022).

What is the message you’re communicating with this book’s title?

Michael Horton: The church in America today — I mean, the ones that uphold Scripture as the written and inerrant Word of God — are projecting a profile of Christianity that is totally at odds with what we find there. I include myself. We’re afraid of so many things. Many of them are legitimate concerns. But they’re badly ranked. God should be our number one fear. He’s holy, we’re not, and that’s a problem. If that’s solved, we have a secure place from which to address our daily anxieties.

Why is fear more rampant today than say a generation ago?

Michael Horton: One survey I’ve found says that kids used to say their top fears were things under their bed at night. Now it’s fear of abuse, divorce, drug abuse, and so on. The climate is changing. That’s a fact. So is inflation. Even if people can find work, basic things — like gas — are ridiculously expensive. How do we talk to our kids when they’re on those stupid iPhones and digital “communities” seem more real for all of us today than actual relationships with people in our neighborhood who may be different from us? We’re scared of everything. Our neighbors — especially the ones who don’t actually live in our neighborhood — are threats to our security, happiness, and prosperity. That’s how we look at things. Then we’re afraid of persecution by an ideologically-driven educational system and media. The LGBTQ+ agenda has become incredibly powerful in a relatively short period. But what if some our own youth in the church are struggling with their sexuality? Do we treat them as “Them” or as “Us” who need our love and compassionate help? So many “threats.” We’re like deer caught in the headlights.

How is it possible that the Bible says to “fear God” and also to “fear not”?

Michael Horton: We fear God first not because of anything he can do to us but just because of who he is. He is not just true, good, and beautiful but the source of all Beauty, Truth, and Goodness. He is the Holy One of Israel. In his presence, Isaiah could say, “I am undone, for I am a man of unclean lips and dwell among a people of unclean lips, for I have seen the Holy One of Israel.” God is majestic in his holiness, which means he is not like anything or anyone you or I know. But then he’s also our judge. We fear him because he is righteous and we’re not. To know about all of this is called wisdom in the Bible. “The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10). Starting every day in a posture of prostration before God means that we’re living with the grain of reality. We are in God’s hands, for good or for ill. We need a Mediator, and only with the Good News that Christ has fully satisfied God’s justice on our behalf can our fear of God as judge be turned to a sort of fearful admiration or awe of his goodness, grace, gentleness, and mercy. That’s why the Psalmist can say, “But with you there is forgiveness; therefore, you are feared” (Psalm 130:4). We can follow him, worship him, bring our fears and anxieties to him because he has forgiven us our sins and accepts us in Christ as righteous.

Why can’t we fight fear by seeking the absence of fear altogether?

Michael Horton: Fear is a natural reaction God designed in our makeup. “Fight or flight” is a natural instinct. If a semi-truck is hurtling toward us, we don’t deliberate. We just run. That’s a terrific gift. But our problem today is that, especially with 24-hour cable news and social media, we’re constantly being put on high alert — for everything. That means we’re not deliberating about anything. Complicated problems can’t be solved because we’re just reacting 24/7. And we’re basically regurgitating whatever our “Preferences” tell us we want to hear. It’s an echo-chamber, on the left and the right, of hostile, angry, resentful, and fearful people who make a pretty good living off of stoking our fears. This actually drowns out the good and proper fear we should have and makes us crazy. No thought, no deliberation, no conversations — just fight or flight.

What does it mean to fear God?

Michael Horton: What’s the #1 moral and spiritual problem in America today? Take a minute and think about it. If you’re like me, the top 10 get filled in pretty quickly — the sins of “the others” (or my own that I keep secret). Now, what’s the #1 sin in the whole of biblical history? “There is no fear of God before their eyes” (Genesis 20:11; Deuteronomy 25:18; Psalm 36:1; Romans 3:18, etc.). We try to domesticate it: “Fear doesn’t really mean fear; it means respect.” Well, it includes respect, but it’s being super scared — phobos in Greek, as in “phobia.” Why do we think that people shouldn’t be afraid of God? That’s where our problems begin.

So, inspired by Daniel 4, I began to think of how we’re all little Nebuchadnezzars prancing on the roof of our personal palace boasting in our heart, “Is this not the great Babylon I have built by my power and for my glory?” Humbled — actually, humiliated — by God, the king realized the hard way that God is sovereign not just in general but in particular, over him. “I raised my eyes to heaven,” he said, “and my sanity was restored.”

How should people confront their fears?

Michael Horton: What we need are thicker, richer communities. Houses of worship, neighborhoods, civic organizations, and clubs: these used to be the glue. At your kids’ football game, it didn’t matter to your neighbor beside you whether you were a Democrat or a Republican. It didn’t at church either. These thick communities are disintegrating especially as we imagine that this alternative reality called euphemistically “social media” can even come close to embodied, engaged, and embedded relationships with actual human beings.

One day in sixth grade a bunch of bullies were using me as a punching bag, taking my lunch. When my older football-player-brother showed up, they scattered. Paul calls Death “the last enemy.” How do I know that for sure? Because Jesus has been raised as the beginning of the resurrection of the dead. “Look at him — that’s what you’re going to be like!”, Paul explains. Same for my loved one who dies in the Lord.

I just watched two dear friends say goodbye — one, to an 8-month-pregnant daughter killed by a drunk driver and the other to her husband of 45 years. The anguish of the former was exacerbated by the fact that my friend isn’t a believer. He has a pretty impressive résumé, but he talks about suicide. The other friend lost a son to a drug-overdose suicide. He and his wife were beside themselves with grief. Months later, they still expect for a second to find him in his room before they realize he’s gone. But the strength they have is amazing and it’s coming from outside of themselves. It’s the strength of a Father who so loved them and their son that he gave his only-begotten Son so that all who trust in the Redeemer will never perish but have everlasting life. The pain will never go away, but neither will the promise.

Another dear sister lost her husband of 45 years two weeks ago. She still wakes up thinking he’s lying beside her and goes through highs and lows. But the constant is that she doesn’t have to wonder about his ultimate health or safety or whether her sorrow matters any more than an elephant herd mourning over a calf. “You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” (Psalm 56:8).

I’m a 56 year-old guy raising teens. I have fears, believe me. In no other period have social convictions about right and wrong changed dramatically in such a short period of time. But that includes insulting people’s dignity by “cancelling” them. That used to not be ok. But now many Christians think it’s fine because we’re good and they’re bad — really bad.

When we get to the place of cancelling, we’ve closed our hearts and turned off our minds. Now it’s just emotional blackmail, manipulation to get what we want. We sort of started this with boycotting Disney and then others back in the 1980s.

Peter tells us, “But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord.” That’s well-placed fear. Next sentence: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” It’s been said that a quarrel kills a good argument. If I can’t listen and formulate a good argument, I’ll just toss verbal grenades and slogans at people. “Well, you’re just a homophobe” or “You’re a Social Justice Warrior.” We throw out epithets like “Critical Race Theory” (or just “CRT”) or “Christian Nationalist” as if the person we’re talking to can be dismissed with a label. And there’s one more sentence in 1 Peter 3:15: “But do this with gentleness and respect.” I can do that when I fear God instead of my neighbor.

The Bible gives us a story in which the stories of the daily news can be interpreted properly. Instead, we often interpret the Bible in light of the daily news. The church reflects the same worldly divisions. There are “FOX” churches and “CNN” churches. We’re certainly not getting the fear of God from those outlets. They’re just stoking our other fears — and making a lot of money in the process.

Jesus is the “right side of history.” He went to the cross but was raised on the third day and is glorified at the right hand of the Father, interceding for sinners, until he returns to establish final justice, righteousness, peace, and life. We’re called to care about the common good of our neighbors in this life — indeed, more than expecting the world to treat us well. But we’re longing ultimately for their salvation and incorporation into Christ’s body. When we see our neighbors through his eyes, through the lens of his love and mercy, we begin to honor them as created in his image and in need of Christ just like us. We don’t cancel fellow image-bearers of God.

What the world needs to see are not fearful, angry, and proud Christians making the same stand that Republicans and Democrats make. The world doesn’t need the church to make a statement by wearing or not wearing masks. The world needs to hear good news, good arguments, and see Christians (on their knees with the tax-collector instead of in the peanut gallery with the Pharisee, confessing their sins and being forgiven. Because, let’s face it, Christians have done some pretty bad stuff in Jesus’ name. “You who boast in the law dishonor God by breaking the law,” Paul indicts. “For, as it is written, ‘The name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles because of you.” (Romans 2:23-24).

Precisely because we live in Jesus’ story, we take justice and righteousness seriously but know that it won’t ever be established perfectly and finally until Jesus does it in person. Not just “Others” but “We” will be praying, “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” until Jesus returns.

As I said, actual institutions mediating between the state and the individual are disintegrating. This is where the kingdom of Christ really stands out — or should, at least. When Jesus said, “I will build my church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it,” he wasn’t talking about a Platonic idea. He meant concrete, local, embodied branches of himself as the Vine.

In a world of soundbites and surrogates, we go to church to actually encounter the God who made and redeemed us. We’re not just hearing the story again but being re-casted by the Holy Spirit from the dead-end stories of this fading age into the greatest story ever told: reality. Here, God makes a real promise with real words from the lips of another sinner, uses real water to seal that promise, and keeps pledging with real wine and bread. It’s where we hear, sing, and pray God’s word together, confess our sins together, and confess our common faith in the Triune God, hear God’s absolution. We become what the word says. CNN and FOX won’t be covering that, but it’s the “breaking news.” And we’re no longer afraid.

Concluding Thoughts

Michael Horton: As Christians we say we believe in “the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.” But often we live as if death and its symptoms — loneliness, job-loss, moral decay and injustice, climate change, health and politics — are in charge. That’s what I mean by “we worship what we fear.” If I’m most afraid of losing my job, then I’m finding my security in someone or something other than Christ. If I’m afraid of not being happy, I’ll make my wife and kids bear the burden of ultimate satisfaction — and maybe ditch them or ignore them when they don’t. If I’m afraid of all the social, political, economic, and moral changes, I’ll blame “Them” — whoever they are — for my unhappiness.

When we imagine we’re in charge, that we can transform ourselves or our world, or that the government or entertainment or a political figure can do this for us, it’s literally insane. It’s living against the grain of reality. But when we raise our eyes to heaven like Nebuchadnezzar, our sanity is restored. That’s just living with the grain of reality.

In Matthew 18, the Lord’s quarreling followers asked Him, “Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” The Lord beckoned to a little child, whom He placed among the disciples. “Assuredly, I say to you,” Jesus said, “unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore whoever humbles himself as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever receives one little child like this in My name receives Me” (verses 3-5).

The next chapter adds a footnote: “Then little children were brought to Him that He might put His hands on them and pray, but the disciples rebuked them. But Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven.’ And He laid His hands on them” (Matthew 19:13-15).

The Gospels are full of children, and the Bible teaches us to emulate the wonder, faith, fascination and simplicity of a childlike heart. We’re not to be childish in our thinking, for the Bible enjoins maturity and wisdom; but we’re to be childlike in our spirits. That means knowing how to slow down, see the world around us, be present with a sense of wonder, and be awestruck with the greatness of our Heavenly Father — and the smallness of some of His blessings.

Simple worship

This means we must recover the simplicity of worship. I’m not talking about the order or rituals of the worship service you attend, but about the sense of wonder that should grip our hearts when we think of God. When people lose faith in a Creator, the creation itself simply becomes a grid to study before we die. But from the beginning, God intended for us to look into the starry skies and contemplate His greatness. He intended for us to look at the flowers of the field and contemplate His beauty. He intended for us to look at the birds of the air and contemplate His care. And He intended for us to look into His Word and contemplate His grace. Our secular world has lost the sense of wonder.

Simple faith

When our hearts are full of worship, it’s much simpler to exercise childlike faith. As we grow and mature, often we complicate matters of faith, turning our walk with God into a formula, and we lose the childlike wonder we once demonstrated when approaching Jesus.

I know that life doesn’t seem so simple; but it’s truly a simple thing to trust in a wise Savior and to rely on His unchanging Word. Proverbs 3 says simply, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart” (verse 5). The writer of Psalm 131 says: “Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor my eyes lofty. Neither do I concern myself with great matters, nor with things too profound for me. Surely I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with his mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me. O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forever.”

I’m sure you know what it’s like to trust the Lord with various situations over which you had no control. Sometimes when anxiety is great within us, we can either lose our minds or quiet our hearts. We must learn to be present enough to listen to our inner child and to trust the Lord like a baby resting in his mother’s arms.

Simply trusting, that is all.

Simple life

As we simplify our worship and our faith, we’ll automatically learn to simplify our lives. Much of what’s around us is small, for the same God who created the gargantuan whales also made the tiny minnows and slippery tadpoles. We can’t all travel into outer space, but we can all hear the sound of the crickets at night or behold tulips bursting through the ground at the park. There’s just as much joy in the small as in the large.

Learn to simplify. Don’t overcomplicate your faith and your relationship with Jesus. Pay attention to the small things. Remove the clutter from your mind, and be grateful for simplicity. Be present enough to relish the grace of everyday blessings. Let your worship be filled with wonder, your faith overflowing with sincerity, and your life attuned to the splendor of the ordinary.

The news shocked me -- the remains of nearly 300 bodies had been discovered on the grounds of a northwest Georgia crematory, some languishing in a field for as long as 15 years. News reports said most of the bodies might never be identified.

I never expected to counsel anyone about this tragedy. I'm a financial consultant, not a pastor. Yet days after this sad story made American headlines I received a desperate e-mail from a longtime client.

In separate but sad situations, my client had sent the bodies of her adult son and her sister to the Tri-State Crematory in the mid-1990s.

Though a committed Christian, my client was despondent, nauseated and in severe emotional distress. She was aware that I had a deep relationship with God and she turned to me for words of comfort.

Knowing she was in difficult, grotesque pain, I spent time that night and early the next morning in prayer and study of God's Word before sending her this message:

"The tragic death of your son and sister were hard enough wounds to bear without those wounds being reopened by the greed of this insensitive crematorium. I cannot pretend to imagine the horror you must feel about the possibility that your loved ones were perhaps not cremated and their actual remains returned to you.

"First I would like to share that my thoughts on 'where the body is' are not just academic. As you know, my parents had severe mental and emotional problems. They abandoned me at age 3 and I lived the next 14 years of my life in an orphanage.

"I never saw my father again. He lived another 25 years and died in a mental hospital. His body is buried in Georgia. My mother was in and out of mental hospitals and died in a halfway house in Chicago when I was 23. Her body was 'handled' as a pauper's body by the city of Chicago. I don't know where it is.

"My wonderful, but poor and simple grandmother in Chicago died a pauper as well and had willed her body to a medical school. I don't know what they did with it after their medical studies. I don't know where my father and mother were spiritually; they were so confused mentally and emotionally. My grandmother loved Jesus.

"I share this so you understand I have reflected on some of the issues of how to feel about a body unaccounted for. That is what I am sharing with you now.

"Please read the Scriptures I am referencing but I will not type them here for brevity.

"My immediate thoughts for you were that you feel like a Psalms 102:1-11 and a Psalms 22:14-15 person right now, your heart like wax and your strength dried up.

"Yet a Psalms 22 person can also be a 23rd Psalms person. You have been suddenly, unexpectedly, and without warning or preparation tossed down again in the valley of the shadow of death of your son and sister. We naturally fear shadows for we know not what evil lies within. We naturally fear the darkness; we fear not knowing; we fear what may be in the shadow of the valley of death.

"Even so, a 23rd Psalms person also can claim that God is with them. God may not remove you quickly from these shadows, but he promises to be with you in these shadows.

"We do know that the physical body is not the 'person.' James 2:26 reminds us the body without the spirit is dead. The spirit has departed. Jesus reminds us in Matthew 6:25 that the body is more than clothing, which is also his way of saying that the physical body is not who we are.

"Jesus also warned us not to fear those that can kill the body but fear those that can kill the soul (Matthew 10:28). Jesus was clear: the body is not the soul, it is not the 'spirit' of your loved ones. 1 Corinthians 15:35-57 lets us know that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God but that the perishable body is raised an imperishable body, that the natural body is raised a spiritual body.

"Finally, and most importantly, please embrace, cling to and claim Romans 8:38-39. Nothing can separate you, your son or your sister from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

"Cast your anxieties on him, for he cares for you (1 Peter 5:7); lift up your eyes to the Lord from whom comes your help (Psalms 121), for he will not abandon you but promises that he will be there for you (John 14:18).

"I grieve for you, I cry for you, I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers in this difficult time. I hope God has led me in some way to help."

It's been several weeks since this news broke. While it has passed from the headlines, it remains all too fresh in the hearts of the thousands affected by it.

In addition, for me and every believer in Christ, I think the lesson of this scandal also applies far into the future. 1 Peter 3:15 tells us to be ready to give a defense for the hope that lives within us. By implication, that applies to every situation where people are struggling and searching for answers.

The next time tragedy strikes -- and it will, as sure as the sun rises in the east -- are you going to be ready to share the hope that lives within you? Through prayer and diligent Bible study, all Christians need to be ready to share our hope when the opportunity or need in another's life arises.

[article is followed by an interview with Horton]

According to Wall Street’s “Fear-Greed Index,” it is “Extreme Fear” that is driving the market right now [April 2020] in the wake of COVID-19. It’s not just the coronavirus. Everybody seems to be anxious, checking the 24-hour news cycles for the next jolt to our insecurity. Besides their health, many are afraid of losing their job or personal freedom. Many are gripped by the fear of economic collapse, while others are anxious about environmental collapse. Many Christians are fearful of the collapse of a thinly-veiled Christian order. Others worship security and therefore are fearful of anyone and anything that leaders or the media construct as threatening it. You get my point. It’s all about control. What we’re most afraid of losing tells us who or what we worship, where we place our trust.

The first test of whether we are actually worshipping the right God is fear. That’s right: Fear. While being afraid of all sorts of things is a sign of sanity these days, the fear of God seems quite insane not only to unbelieving neighbors but even in the church. It’s not surprising that the God of the Bible is increasingly rejected in wider American society, since in even evangelical circles he is frequently reduced to a supporting actor in our life movie: a means to the end of our own health, wealth, and happiness. In ordinary conversations, even among Christians, we express fear of just about any threat to our well-being but meet stares or raised eyebrows if we mention fearing God.

Even in more conservative contexts, the reading of a “fear of God” passage is often followed up quickly with explanation, dying the death of a thousand qualifications. The upshot is that fear doesn’t really mean fear. It means something more like respect. But respect may be registered in no more than a polite gesture. No, fear means fear. It means that God alone is terrifying in his glory, righteous in his judgments, and merciful to all who call on his name. The right kind of fear, godly fear, “casts out fear” and leads to trust and love (1 John 4:18). The downgrading of the fear of God is misguided for at least two reasons.

1. Sanity requires that we live with the grain of reality and the sovereign God is more real than we are.

In fact, he is life and gives life — creaturely life — to us and to everything he has made. Like the visible sun, God exists and sends forth his rays of goodness regardless of whether we acknowledge him. Even when the clouds of his inscrutable providence obscure his presence, he is there, drawing our eyes to him.

Remember Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. Strolling on his palace rooftop, he marveled at “this great Babylon which I have built,” and God drove him into the desert, living like a wild animal. Happily, that wasn’t the end of the story. God used it to show the king that he was insane, not living in reality.

At the end of the days I, Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my eyes to heaven, and my reason returned to me, and I blessed the Most High, and praised and honored him who lives forever, for his dominion is an everlasting dominion, and his kingdom endures from generation to generation; all the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, and he does according to his will among the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand or say to him, “What have you done?” At the same time my reason returned to me, and for the glory of my kingdom, my majesty and splendor returned to me. (Daniel 4:34-36)

2. The good fear of God dispels the bad fear of anyone or anything else.

Downplaying the fear of God, we are not only failing to give God his due but are depriving ourselves and each other of the only antidote to the crippling fears that haunt us. Fearing God extinguishes paralyzing fear of anyone or anything else.

If we replace the atomic bomb with the coronavirus, C.S. Lewis’ counsel in 1948 hits home as yet another reminder of how differently the sanity of God’s Word shapes our discipleship in tough times:

In one way we think a great deal too much of the atomic bomb. ‘How are we to live in an atomic age?’ I am tempted to reply: ‘Why, as you would have lived in the sixteenth century when the plague visited London almost every year, or as you would have lived in a Viking age when raiders from Scandinavia might land and cut your throat any night; or indeed, as you are already living in an age of cancer, an age of syphilis, an age of paralysis, an age of air raids, an age of railway accidents, an age of motor accidents.

In other words, do not let us begin by exaggerating the novelty of our situation. Believe me, dear sir or madam, you and all whom you love were already sentenced to death before the atomic bomb was invented: and quite a high percentage of us are going to die in unpleasant ways. We had, indeed, one very great advantage over our ancestors–anesthetics; but we have that still. It is perfectly ridiculous to go about whimpering and drawing long faces because the scientists have added one more chance of painful and premature death to a world which already bristled with such chances and in which death itself was not a chance at all, but a certainty.

This is the first point to be made: and the first action to be taken is to pull ourselves together. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes to find us doing sensible and human things — praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts — not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.[1]

As Nebuchadnezzar discovered, we recover our sanity when we lift our eyes to heaven. We’re back in line with reality. We’re not in charge, and never have been. We can’t create or save ourselves. But we have been created and saved by God in Jesus Christ! Now we can see the needs all around us, our own and those of our neighbors and the creation, as opportunities rather than threats. We want to play our part in curbing the spread of the virus. We are called to defend the life of our neighbors, especially the most vulnerable: the unborn, our aging elders, the poor, orphans, widows and all victims of injustice. We are called to be good stewards of God’s creation. But this is because we fear God rather than anyone or anything else.

Not even death threatens us because it is the “last enemy” whose claim on believers in Christ has been rendered null and void (1 Corinthians 15:50-57). We care for this world not because it will be destroyed but because it will be restored (Rom 8:18-25). Our lives are now driven outward to our neighbors instead of being turned in on ourselves. We are fueled by freedom, not fear, “for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control” (2 Timothy 1:7). The real headline should be, “It’s Easter!” Indeed, each Lord’s Day we gather to celebrate Christ’s resurrection.

When we fear God, all other fears become not manageable by human pride but subdued by the God of promise and deliverance. Like Nebuchadnezzar, we sometimes need to learn it the hard way. But since we’re made for communion with God, the outcome justifies the hard providences. “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight” (Proverbs 9:10) and the wisdom of God is Christ (1 Corinthians 1:30).

The fear of God leads to trust and trust bears the fruit of the Spirit, for a harvest of blessings for ourselves and for others. If God uses difficult providences to cure us of our insanity and to bring us to rest in him, what outcome could be better? It’s not just “Keep Calm and Carry On,” but

Trust in the LORD with all your heart,

and do not lean on your own understanding.

In all your ways acknowledge him,

and he will make straight your paths.

Be not wise in your own eyes;

fear the LORD, and turn away from evil.

It will be healing to your flesh

and refreshment to your bones (Proverbs 3:5-8).

________

Notes

1. C. S. Lewis, “On Living in an Atomic Age,” in Present Concerns (Harvest Books, 2002), 78-80.

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Fear God and Do Not Fear: An Interview with Michael Horton, by Jonathan Petersen, June 28, 2022

How does cultivating a healthy fear of God liberate us from our fear of others, our fear of the future, and even our fear of death itself? What does the Bible mean when it says “fear God and do not be afraid”? How can we live with a fear of God that drives out the fear of everything else?

Bible Gateway interviewed Dr. Michael Horton about his book, Recovering Our Sanity: How the Fear of God Conquers the Fears that Divide Us (Zondervan, 2022).

What is the message you’re communicating with this book’s title?

Michael Horton: The church in America today — I mean, the ones that uphold Scripture as the written and inerrant Word of God — are projecting a profile of Christianity that is totally at odds with what we find there. I include myself. We’re afraid of so many things. Many of them are legitimate concerns. But they’re badly ranked. God should be our number one fear. He’s holy, we’re not, and that’s a problem. If that’s solved, we have a secure place from which to address our daily anxieties.

Why is fear more rampant today than say a generation ago?

Michael Horton: One survey I’ve found says that kids used to say their top fears were things under their bed at night. Now it’s fear of abuse, divorce, drug abuse, and so on. The climate is changing. That’s a fact. So is inflation. Even if people can find work, basic things — like gas — are ridiculously expensive. How do we talk to our kids when they’re on those stupid iPhones and digital “communities” seem more real for all of us today than actual relationships with people in our neighborhood who may be different from us? We’re scared of everything. Our neighbors — especially the ones who don’t actually live in our neighborhood — are threats to our security, happiness, and prosperity. That’s how we look at things. Then we’re afraid of persecution by an ideologically-driven educational system and media. The LGBTQ+ agenda has become incredibly powerful in a relatively short period. But what if some our own youth in the church are struggling with their sexuality? Do we treat them as “Them” or as “Us” who need our love and compassionate help? So many “threats.” We’re like deer caught in the headlights.

How is it possible that the Bible says to “fear God” and also to “fear not”?

Michael Horton: We fear God first not because of anything he can do to us but just because of who he is. He is not just true, good, and beautiful but the source of all Beauty, Truth, and Goodness. He is the Holy One of Israel. In his presence, Isaiah could say, “I am undone, for I am a man of unclean lips and dwell among a people of unclean lips, for I have seen the Holy One of Israel.” God is majestic in his holiness, which means he is not like anything or anyone you or I know. But then he’s also our judge. We fear him because he is righteous and we’re not. To know about all of this is called wisdom in the Bible. “The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10). Starting every day in a posture of prostration before God means that we’re living with the grain of reality. We are in God’s hands, for good or for ill. We need a Mediator, and only with the Good News that Christ has fully satisfied God’s justice on our behalf can our fear of God as judge be turned to a sort of fearful admiration or awe of his goodness, grace, gentleness, and mercy. That’s why the Psalmist can say, “But with you there is forgiveness; therefore, you are feared” (Psalm 130:4). We can follow him, worship him, bring our fears and anxieties to him because he has forgiven us our sins and accepts us in Christ as righteous.

Why can’t we fight fear by seeking the absence of fear altogether?

Michael Horton: Fear is a natural reaction God designed in our makeup. “Fight or flight” is a natural instinct. If a semi-truck is hurtling toward us, we don’t deliberate. We just run. That’s a terrific gift. But our problem today is that, especially with 24-hour cable news and social media, we’re constantly being put on high alert — for everything. That means we’re not deliberating about anything. Complicated problems can’t be solved because we’re just reacting 24/7. And we’re basically regurgitating whatever our “Preferences” tell us we want to hear. It’s an echo-chamber, on the left and the right, of hostile, angry, resentful, and fearful people who make a pretty good living off of stoking our fears. This actually drowns out the good and proper fear we should have and makes us crazy. No thought, no deliberation, no conversations — just fight or flight.

What does it mean to fear God?

Michael Horton: What’s the #1 moral and spiritual problem in America today? Take a minute and think about it. If you’re like me, the top 10 get filled in pretty quickly — the sins of “the others” (or my own that I keep secret). Now, what’s the #1 sin in the whole of biblical history? “There is no fear of God before their eyes” (Genesis 20:11; Deuteronomy 25:18; Psalm 36:1; Romans 3:18, etc.). We try to domesticate it: “Fear doesn’t really mean fear; it means respect.” Well, it includes respect, but it’s being super scared — phobos in Greek, as in “phobia.” Why do we think that people shouldn’t be afraid of God? That’s where our problems begin.

So, inspired by Daniel 4, I began to think of how we’re all little Nebuchadnezzars prancing on the roof of our personal palace boasting in our heart, “Is this not the great Babylon I have built by my power and for my glory?” Humbled — actually, humiliated — by God, the king realized the hard way that God is sovereign not just in general but in particular, over him. “I raised my eyes to heaven,” he said, “and my sanity was restored.”

How should people confront their fears?

Michael Horton: What we need are thicker, richer communities. Houses of worship, neighborhoods, civic organizations, and clubs: these used to be the glue. At your kids’ football game, it didn’t matter to your neighbor beside you whether you were a Democrat or a Republican. It didn’t at church either. These thick communities are disintegrating especially as we imagine that this alternative reality called euphemistically “social media” can even come close to embodied, engaged, and embedded relationships with actual human beings.

One day in sixth grade a bunch of bullies were using me as a punching bag, taking my lunch. When my older football-player-brother showed up, they scattered. Paul calls Death “the last enemy.” How do I know that for sure? Because Jesus has been raised as the beginning of the resurrection of the dead. “Look at him — that’s what you’re going to be like!”, Paul explains. Same for my loved one who dies in the Lord.

I just watched two dear friends say goodbye — one, to an 8-month-pregnant daughter killed by a drunk driver and the other to her husband of 45 years. The anguish of the former was exacerbated by the fact that my friend isn’t a believer. He has a pretty impressive résumé, but he talks about suicide. The other friend lost a son to a drug-overdose suicide. He and his wife were beside themselves with grief. Months later, they still expect for a second to find him in his room before they realize he’s gone. But the strength they have is amazing and it’s coming from outside of themselves. It’s the strength of a Father who so loved them and their son that he gave his only-begotten Son so that all who trust in the Redeemer will never perish but have everlasting life. The pain will never go away, but neither will the promise.

Another dear sister lost her husband of 45 years two weeks ago. She still wakes up thinking he’s lying beside her and goes through highs and lows. But the constant is that she doesn’t have to wonder about his ultimate health or safety or whether her sorrow matters any more than an elephant herd mourning over a calf. “You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” (Psalm 56:8).

I’m a 56 year-old guy raising teens. I have fears, believe me. In no other period have social convictions about right and wrong changed dramatically in such a short period of time. But that includes insulting people’s dignity by “cancelling” them. That used to not be ok. But now many Christians think it’s fine because we’re good and they’re bad — really bad.

When we get to the place of cancelling, we’ve closed our hearts and turned off our minds. Now it’s just emotional blackmail, manipulation to get what we want. We sort of started this with boycotting Disney and then others back in the 1980s.

Peter tells us, “But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord.” That’s well-placed fear. Next sentence: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” It’s been said that a quarrel kills a good argument. If I can’t listen and formulate a good argument, I’ll just toss verbal grenades and slogans at people. “Well, you’re just a homophobe” or “You’re a Social Justice Warrior.” We throw out epithets like “Critical Race Theory” (or just “CRT”) or “Christian Nationalist” as if the person we’re talking to can be dismissed with a label. And there’s one more sentence in 1 Peter 3:15: “But do this with gentleness and respect.” I can do that when I fear God instead of my neighbor.

The Bible gives us a story in which the stories of the daily news can be interpreted properly. Instead, we often interpret the Bible in light of the daily news. The church reflects the same worldly divisions. There are “FOX” churches and “CNN” churches. We’re certainly not getting the fear of God from those outlets. They’re just stoking our other fears — and making a lot of money in the process.

Jesus is the “right side of history.” He went to the cross but was raised on the third day and is glorified at the right hand of the Father, interceding for sinners, until he returns to establish final justice, righteousness, peace, and life. We’re called to care about the common good of our neighbors in this life — indeed, more than expecting the world to treat us well. But we’re longing ultimately for their salvation and incorporation into Christ’s body. When we see our neighbors through his eyes, through the lens of his love and mercy, we begin to honor them as created in his image and in need of Christ just like us. We don’t cancel fellow image-bearers of God.

What the world needs to see are not fearful, angry, and proud Christians making the same stand that Republicans and Democrats make. The world doesn’t need the church to make a statement by wearing or not wearing masks. The world needs to hear good news, good arguments, and see Christians (on their knees with the tax-collector instead of in the peanut gallery with the Pharisee, confessing their sins and being forgiven. Because, let’s face it, Christians have done some pretty bad stuff in Jesus’ name. “You who boast in the law dishonor God by breaking the law,” Paul indicts. “For, as it is written, ‘The name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles because of you.” (Romans 2:23-24).

Precisely because we live in Jesus’ story, we take justice and righteousness seriously but know that it won’t ever be established perfectly and finally until Jesus does it in person. Not just “Others” but “We” will be praying, “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” until Jesus returns.

As I said, actual institutions mediating between the state and the individual are disintegrating. This is where the kingdom of Christ really stands out — or should, at least. When Jesus said, “I will build my church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it,” he wasn’t talking about a Platonic idea. He meant concrete, local, embodied branches of himself as the Vine.

In a world of soundbites and surrogates, we go to church to actually encounter the God who made and redeemed us. We’re not just hearing the story again but being re-casted by the Holy Spirit from the dead-end stories of this fading age into the greatest story ever told: reality. Here, God makes a real promise with real words from the lips of another sinner, uses real water to seal that promise, and keeps pledging with real wine and bread. It’s where we hear, sing, and pray God’s word together, confess our sins together, and confess our common faith in the Triune God, hear God’s absolution. We become what the word says. CNN and FOX won’t be covering that, but it’s the “breaking news.” And we’re no longer afraid.

Concluding Thoughts

Michael Horton: As Christians we say we believe in “the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.” But often we live as if death and its symptoms — loneliness, job-loss, moral decay and injustice, climate change, health and politics — are in charge. That’s what I mean by “we worship what we fear.” If I’m most afraid of losing my job, then I’m finding my security in someone or something other than Christ. If I’m afraid of not being happy, I’ll make my wife and kids bear the burden of ultimate satisfaction — and maybe ditch them or ignore them when they don’t. If I’m afraid of all the social, political, economic, and moral changes, I’ll blame “Them” — whoever they are — for my unhappiness.

When we imagine we’re in charge, that we can transform ourselves or our world, or that the government or entertainment or a political figure can do this for us, it’s literally insane. It’s living against the grain of reality. But when we raise our eyes to heaven like Nebuchadnezzar, our sanity is restored. That’s just living with the grain of reality.

He also that received seed among the thorns is he that heareth the word; and the care of this world … choke the word, and he becometh unfruitful. — Matthew 13:22.

God’s grace is like a mighty ocean; the fish swimming in it never fear of perishing of thirst. Spurgeon once suggested that a mouse in Joseph’s granaries in Egypt would have more reason to doubt its next meal in a full granary than the believer has to doubt the all-sufficiency of Christ ! He said, “My grace is sufficient for thee” (2 Cor. 12:9). Never worry, trusting one, the well of His infinite love, grace and power will never run dry!

It is not the work, but the worry, that makes the world grow old;

That numbers the years of its children, ere half their story is told;

That weakens their faith in Heaven, and the wisdom of God’s great plan;

‘Tis not the work, but the worry that breaks the heart of man.

The dark night of the soul. This phenomenon describes a malady that the greatest of Christians have suffered from time to time. It was the malady that provoked David to soak his pillow with tears. It was the malady that earned for Jeremiah the sobriquet, “The Weeping Prophet.” It was the malady that so afflicted Martin Luther that his melancholy threatened to destroy him. This is no ordinary fit of depression, but it is a depression that is linked to a crisis of faith, a crisis that comes when one senses the absence of God or gives rise to a feeling of abandonment by Him.

Spiritual depression is real and can be acute. We ask how a person of faith could experience such spiritual lows, but whatever provokes it does not take away from its reality. Our faith is not a constant action. It is mobile. It vacillates. We move from faith to faith, and in between we may have periods of doubt when we cry, “Lord, I believe, help Thou my unbelief.”

We may also think that the dark night of the soul is something completely incompatible with the fruit of the Spirit, not only that of faith but also that of joy. Once the Holy Spirit has flooded our hearts with a joy unspeakable, how can there be room in that chamber for such darkness? It is important for us to make a distinction between the spiritual fruit of joy and the cultural concept of happiness. A Christian can have joy in his heart while there is still spiritual depression in his head. The joy that we have sustains us through these dark nights and is not quenched by spiritual depression. The joy of the Christian is one that survives all downturns in life.

In writing to the Corinthians in his second letter, Paul commends to his readers the importance of preaching and of communicating the Gospel to people. But in the midst of that, he reminds the church that the treasure we have from God is a treasure that is contained not in vessels of gold and silver but in what the apostle calls “jars of clay.” For this reason he says, “that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” Immediately after this reminder, the apostle adds, “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies” (2 Cor. 4:7–10).

This passage indicates the limits of depression that we experience. The depression may be profound, but it is not permanent, nor is it fatal. Notice that the apostle Paul describes our condition in a variety of ways. He says that we are “afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, and struck down.” These are powerful images that describe the conflict that Christians must endure, but in every place that he describes this phenomenon, he describes at the same time its limits. Afflicted, but not crushed. Perplexed, but not in despair. Persecuted, but not forsaken. Struck down, but not destroyed.

So we have this pressure to bear, but the pressure, though it is severe, does not crush us. We may be confused and perplexed, but that low point to which perplexity brings us does not result in complete and total despair. Even in persecution, as serious as it may be, we are still not forsaken, and we may be overwhelmed and struck down as Jeremiah spoke of, yet we have room for joy. We think of the prophet Habakkuk, who in his misery remained confident that despite the setbacks he endured, God would give him feet like hind’s feet, feet that would enable him to walk in high places.

Elsewhere, the apostle Paul in writing to the Philippians gives them the admonition to be “anxious for nothing,” telling them that the cure for anxiety is found on one’s knees, that it is the peace of God that calms our spirit and dissipates anxiety. Again, we can be anxious and nervous and worried without finally submitting to ultimate despair.

This coexistence of faith and spiritual depression is paralleled in other biblical statements of emotive conditions. We are told that it is perfectly legitimate for believers to suffer grief. Our Lord Himself was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Though grief may reach to the roots of our souls, it must not result in bitterness. Grief is a legitimate emotion, at times even a virtue, but there must be no place in the soul for bitterness. In like manner, we see that it is a good thing to go to the house of mourning, but even in mourning, that low feeling must not give way to hatred. The presence of faith gives no guarantee of the absence of spiritual depression; however, the dark night of the soul always gives way to the brightness of the noonday light of the presence of God.

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First published in Tabletalk Magazine, an outreach of Ligonier.