The trouble with preparing sermons in a series that lasts several weeks is that I am never quite sure whether I am the only one who knows where we are in that series. I am never quite sure whether you see just four sermons, or maybe you only attend two of the four weeks, or whether you sit with bated breath waiting for the next installment, or what. And so I keep on feeling constrained to try to bring you up to date with where we are; I can't assume, you know, that nothing else has entered your mind since last Sunday but my sermon. I had a seminary professor who would make that assumption; he seemed to think we didn't do anything else but attend church history class, and so he would start his lecture off with something like, "In the third place". Not one in ten of us had any idea what the first place and the second place were!
Well, anyhow, today, in the third place: two Sundays ago I asked you to affirm with me that you can't have fear and freedom at the same time – that the liberty, the freedom which God wants to give us He gives us by loving us completely, because, as our theme scripture puts it, "Perfect love casts out fear."
And then last week on the theme of fear and integrity I asked you to delve into your imaginations and to reflect on what was going on the minds of three Old Testament personalities, Abraham, Sarah, and King Abimilech, as we watched people who compromise their integrities out of fear dig deeper graves of fear for themselves. And again we saw, I hope, through the way Abimilech treated those who had lied to him, misled him, that perfect love casts out fear.
Now, in the third place, today, my theme is "Fearing Fear." And we use another absolutely fascinating Old Testament personality to help us look at this issue. I want us to think a bit about Job. Job the sufferer, Job the patient, he is sometimes called, though I am not sure how true that is. Job is described in this magnificent poem in terms of his fears, and I believe we can learn from him about fearing fear.
I have three texts to read; one of my preaching professors used to tell us that if we preached from two texts instead of one, we just doubled our troubles. He would likely turn over in his grave to learn that I have three. But so be it.
The first is from the first chapter of Job, in which the stage is set for the drama. God and the adversary, the Satan angel, have a kind of cosmic wager going. It has to do with whether Job can be trusted, whether Job can be counted on to be what he appears to be when all his rewards are taken away. It's a test, and you and I might think it a cruel test, but there it is – old Job and his disasters. The story of the disasters follows the text I am reading, and I'll not repeat it, but you know about it all the loss of family and servants and property and livestock, everything I guess except his proverbial turkey – you know, poor as Job's turkey – and three friends who make long and ponderous theological speeches at poor suffering Job.
The second text I am going to read is in the third chapter of the book, and it gives us a glimpse inside the state of mind of this poor suffering soul. Let me warn you ahead of time that it is not a pretty sight. This man is hurting. The boils on his legs and the sores in his scalp are nothing compared to the wounds in his spirit. So Job chapter 3 will tell you from the inside what me was feeling.
And then I will conclude with a line from the Psalms, it appears also in Proverbs and several other places, but in its quiet serenity it sums up what I want to say today.
So: three texts, three moods, three insights about fearing fear.
I heard it so often when I was a schoolboy that I think I could just about get the cadence and the accent right, I can still hear in mind President Franklin Delano Roosevelt telling the nation that "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." When he uttered that memorable line, during his first inaugural address, he was, of course, talking about our economic plight, telling us that if we would put some trust, some confidence in the new government and in the financial institutions of the country, we might stand a chance of recovering from the Great Depression. But if we allowed ourselves to get caught up in panic and fear and anxiety, well, no law, no president, no banking system would survive.
If that's true in the financial realm, I tell you it is profoundly true, doubly true, in the spiritual realm. Spiritually speaking, the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. And when I read the story of Job that great truth comes home to me with power.
The Scripture poses the contest, the wager, between God and Satan like this: Does Job fear God for naught? Does Job fear God for naught? Now it is sometimes argued, and I think fairly enough, that when the Bible uses the word fear – fear God – here it does not quite mean, "Be afraid of God" – it means respect God, stand in awe of God. All right, I see that. But I think you could also argue that it does mean fear, really does mean fear, in a healthy sense. Job had reason to fear God, to know that God is a God of wrath and of judgment; Job had reason, and so do we, to know· that in the immensity of God, in the limitless power of God there is terror. And so it may well be, you see, that Job's goodness, Job's morality, had started out being based on a fear of God.
Let me illustrate it this way. I well remember as a child how my sense of right and wrong worked. I well remember that I had had instilled in me such a powerful sense of the presence of God that I quite literally was afraid to do bad things because I thought I was being watched. As a child I did what was right, sometimes, not because I just wanted to do what was right; but because I was afraid to do what was wrong. The fear of God.
Now let me assure you that I did not live a perfect childhood. As if there were any doubt in your minds about that! I did my share and more of wrong things, and a part of what happened, I'm sure, is that the more I discovered that when you sin there are no lightning bolts from the sky, the easier it became to sin. I mean, you might foolishly test that electrical wire to see if it is hot by touching it with your wet hands; but if you don't get a shock then you are not afraid to grab it as often as you want to. My fear of God diminished, and because my fear of God lessened, it got easier to sin, easier to go my own way.
Do you remember that classic scene – I've described it for you before – do you remember that classic scene in Tom Sawyer? Tom and Huck Finn had been supposed to be dead, when all along they were just hiding in the cave outside of town. But when all hope was given up for them, the town held a funeral service in the little church, and Tom and Huck got great delight out of sneaking in to the church and hiding in the balcony listening to their own funerals. But in the window of the church there was pictured in stained glass a single huge, eye, the all-seeing eye of God, and the more those two boys sat there under that eye, the more it seemed to be staring at them, glowering at them, accusing them; and in the end the fear of God moved them to tell the truth and bring an abrupt end to the funeral service!
Well, then, Satan's question about Job may be a perfectly good question, right? "Does Job fear God for naught? " You say, God, that here is a man who fears you and is good and upright in the land. Well, no wonder. The truth is that he is afraid to do otherwise. He is afraid not to be good. And you have surrounded him with so many goodies that of course he serves you. Of course he obeys you and follows you. He's got all this wealth and prosperity, he's living high off the hog. Well, then, God, let me take away all his props and we'll see about Job. We'll see what his fear does to him.
Good question, isn't it? A good question, because I suspect that many of us also serve God with a touch of fear. Many of us are here at least in part because we don't want to rock the boat; we're doing well, we feel blessed and protested by God, and well, we don't want to take any chances. And if that is what you feel, all right. I think that's perfectly normal, that's to be expected. That's not the only reason we're here, but that's a part of it, and that's not all bad. So let's see what happens with Job when all the goodies are stripped away.
II
In the next scene, after a series of disasters takes away all that Job has, all that Job has worked for, all whom Job loves – in that next scene we see Job suffering the anguish of the condemned. No one in all the world's literature suffers with such exquisite eloquence as this man, sitting on top of an ash heap, scratching away at his sores. His desperation knows no bounds. Listen:
Why is light given to him that is in misery, And life to the bitter in soul, Who long for death, but it comes not.
Job, you see, literally wishes he could die, so miserable is he in his losses, his unspeakably enormous losses. And then he reveals something of paramount importance:
For the thing that I fear comes upon me, And what I dread befalls me. I am not at ease, Nor am I quiet; I have no rest, but trouble comes.
Get that first line again: "The thing that I fear comes upon me, and what I dread befalls me." Job feared something, and it happened. Job harbored a deep dread, a profound anxiety about something, and it happened. What is this?
Do you know the term, "self-fulfilling prophecy"? Self-fulfilling prophecy: it means that sometimes just because we think something is going to happen we actually set up the conditions that make it happen. If I enter a new job thinking that I probably cannot make a success of it, then the chances are I will fail, I will fail because I approach it with no self-confidence: a self-fulfilling prophecy. A couple gets married, but one marriage partner is afraid because his own parents got a divorce, and he knows that the children of divorce are often themselves unable to keep a marriage going, and because of his fear, because of his lack of self-confidence, pretty soon he botches it. Pretty soon he is victimized by his own fears. A self-fulfilling prophecy.
You see, in Job's case, I am saying that it may well be that Satan had his number, or just about. Satan suspected that Job feared God but that what Job feared most was the loss of his possessions, the loss of all his status symbols. And more than that, is it too much to suppose that Satan knew that Job was secretly building up enormous anxieties about what he might lose –what if the cattle got sick, what if my sons should rebel and leave me, what if the servants start stealing from me – on and on and on, riddled with fears, crippled by anxieties, paralyzed with all the what ifs.
What if all these things should happen to me. And so, make no mistake about it, the evil one knows us at our weakest points, he seeks out our weak points, and he penetrated Job's armor and saw that Job's fear might well do him in. Job's fear might well do him in.
Listen again: The thing that I fear comes upon me, and what I dread befalls me. I am not at east, nor am I quiet, I have no rest, but trouble comes. Self-fulfilling prophecy; and you and I will do well to see if there are some idolatries in our lives that present opportunities for Satan. What are we afraid of, really afraid of, that presents opportunities for Satan to challenge us?
III
Now of course the story is not finished with brother Job. What I like most about Job is that though his fears nearly did him in, still he would not succumb to the advice of his friends, all of whom in effect said, "Pack it in, Job, you're finished. You're washed up, Job, you messed up, you offended God, you're a sinner, you're no blessed good – forget it". But Job has the backbone to say no to all that, and in essence to stand up to God and to demand an explanation. You have to admire a man who can lose everything including most of his self-respect and most of his will to live, but who can still get up on his hind legs and shout to the heavens, "You owe me an explanation. Come on, God, you can do better than this, you owe me some answers." I say you have to admire someone who can do that.
You have to admire him because it means that in the end he is fearing fear. Watch now, watch what I am saying. Job, if you remember the rest of the story, cries out to high heaven for an explanation, he says that he believes he is due some answers And what he is doing when he makes those demands is fearing fear; he is recognizing that the single most damaging thing he could do to himself is to give in to his fears. He is saying that the one thing he really is afraid to be is a fearful person, because fears have a way of coming true, fears have a way of corroding you, eating you up, tearing at your vitals. Fears poison you. And so Job is saying, "I am afraid to be afraid, and so I will exercise my faith. I will do the most audaciously faithful thing a man can do: I will challenge God."
Are you with me? Do you hear this? The most audaciously faithful thing I can do is to challenge God. I can so trust in the goodness of God, the mercy of God, that I will stand in his face, and be myself, and ask my questions, and not be afraid that he will crush me. That's faith. That's fearing fear, that's knowing that the worst thing you can do is to let your fears take over your life, because they will destroy you, and that's exactly what Satan had in mind. That was to be the bottom line for Job; that is the bottom line for you and for me.
I'm wondering this morning whether for you there is some deep anxiety, whether there is something you continue to fear will happen to you, Then I must urge you: trust God; trust God to love you, trust him to be able to take your questions and even your anger … and then to help you get some peace.
I'm wondering whether there is someone this morning for whom life is a jangle of unresolved conflicts. No matter what happens, you seem to feel as though it's not good enough. You're always able, as the saying has it, to snatch a good defeat from the jaws of victory – you just think that life is never going to be on target for you. Then I urge you, fear those fears, stay away from those anxieties, and trust the God who in the face of Christ Jesus said it's all right to be human. It's good to be human. In Christ Jesus our God says to us, I'm coming to live where you live, I'm coming to experience every temptation, every fear, every difficulty you experience, but I'm going to show you that you can win that battle. I'm going to show you what living in fear will gain you nothing; live in faith, live in trust that a gracious God will bring you through.
When my daughter was very small, she was deathly afraid of falling off her bicycle. Dad had to run along behind and steady it, and, you know, dad is not as young as he used to be. Well, I couldn't always keep up with the bike, so I'd have to let go. And when she would turn and discover I was no longer there, she'd get so frightened of falling that she would fall – another self-fulfilling prophecy. But after a few tumbles and after many tear-filled screams at me, "Why don't you hang on to me?" … after a while she learned to trust that I did know when to let go, I did know how to guide her. And it wasn’t long before she could ride and turn and glide all on her own.
You are meant by the Father not to live in fear, but to ride and soar and glide on your own. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, yes, and trust in the Lord is wisdom in its maturity. Perfect love, the perfect love God has for you, casts out all your fear.
