Fear Nothing

Psalm 46

God is our refuge and our strength,

who from of old has helped us in our distress.

Therefore we fear nothing--

even if the earth should open up in front of us

and mountains plunge into the depths of the sea,

even if the earth’s waters rage and foam

and the mountains tumble with its heaving.

There’s a river whose streams 

gladden the city of God,

the holy dwelling of the Most High.

God is in its midst, it will never fall--

God will help it at daybreak.

Though nations are in turmoil and empires crumble,

God’s voice resounds, and it melts the earth.

YHWH Sabaoth is with us--

our stronghold is the God of Israel!

Come, see what YHWH has done--

God makes the earth bounteous!

God has put an end to war,

from one end of the earth to the other,

breaking bows, splintering spears,

and setting chariots on fire.

“Be still, and know that I am God!

I will be exalted among the nations;

I will be exalted upon the earth.”

YHWH Sabaoth is with us--

our stronghold is the God of Israel!

The Inclusive Bible

Something in this psalm makes my heart stop.  There is a breathtaking power in the truth conveyed, a potency in the words themselves.  A God who from of old has helped us in our distress.  Therefore we fear nothing.  We. Fear. Nothing.  

I have a great faith in God.  I believe in miracles.  I believe God still heals and raises people from the dead.  I believe a lot of things to be true about God.  I believe, in the very depths of my heart, that God loves me, and I really do believe there is nothing so awful I can do that will change that.    But these psalmist’s words convict me, because in reality I fear a lot of things.  I fear being misunderstood.  I fear people thinking I’m stupid.  I fear riding my bike to church a couple towns over because there is a particularly unsafe stretch of road between here and there, and so I don’t go, because I can’t afford the bus.  I fear that I will not serve the children I work with to the best of their ability and I will end up with a missed opportunity that has no do-over option.  In essence, I fear the lack of perfection and guarantees.  

And yet, even if the earth should open up in front of us and mountains plunge into the depths of the sea, we fear nothing.  Even if the earth’s waters rage and foam and the mountains tumble with its heaving, we fear nothing.  I look into my fears and then I look at this psalm.  I place these two side by side and I see my fears withering into an insignificant dust.  I suppose this is the power of scripture.  In the city of God, the dwelling of the Most High, through which a river flows, God is in its midst, it will never fall--God will help it at daybreak.  The New Revised Standard reads, “God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved,” recalling, for me, Maya Angelou’s words in “Our Grandmothers,” where the black women of old declare, “We shall not, we shall not be moved.” Though nations are in turmoil and empires crumble, God’s voice resounds, and it melts the earth. Infused with the Holy Spirit, scripture contains great power.  I’m not sure how I forget that sometimes.

There are a lot of things I know about God, but there are fewer things I understand--not cognitively, but understand in the depths of my soul where it soaks into the roots of my faith and carries me into a deeper kind of knowledge and a richer day.  That kind of understanding.  Fear is a strange thing.  Not the great fears which we ought to be wary of, but that nagging worry that can take the joy from everyday moments.  I am not a fear ridden person, but my desire to not fail others can on occasion be paralyzing, those times when I seem to forget there is a God whose voice melts the earth, because of whom I need have no fear.  But in those moments when I remember to be still and know that God is God, I see my fears for what they really are: lies.  And weak lies at that. 

We live in a culture that tells us to conquer our fears, to let them go, to free ourselves of them.  The church tends to be no different.  But fear has a way of creeping up on you when your defenses are down.  I may think I’ve set it down, but it follows me anyway, sometimes because I think I’ve conquered them.  And yet, when I hold it up to the truth of scripture, it disintegrates.  Its weak foundation and lack of roots is exposed.  Up against this psalm, fear is as threatening as a mouse to a wildcat, and so I’m thinking what if this week, instead of trying to put down my fear, to leave it somewhere else, I take the scripture with me.  I will hold it in my heart, and I will be still.  In the light of the Holy Spirit, fear is powerless.  In a context that has outlived us all, a truth that has proven more real and constant than the air we breathe, fear has no home.  Fear can try it’s hardest, but we shall not, we shall not be moved.