The Dangers of Fear

One topic that has captivated me recently is the connection between safety and fear. Safety is good, and fear can be a productive tool in keeping us safe. But when safety becomes ultimate, fear becomes a tool to wield against any potential threat no matter whose safety is lost in the crossfire. 

Much more than safety inspired the lynchings that dominated the Jim Crow Era, but safety was one of racism's main sources of justification. It wasn't racism; no, it was protecting our wives, our families, our community. It didn't matter if "I felt unsafe" was a lie or not; it served its purpose. And safety didn't merely justify self-defense; it allowed people to hunt down black bodies, torture them, and kill them. Emmett Till, a fourteen year old boy and one of the most famous lynching victims, was brutally killed for whistling at a white woman. Just for whistling. And that was enough for the jury to acquit his murderers. A white woman was afraid, and so he had to pay. 

His story was not unique except for the fact that it was brought to trial. But a white woman's perceived fear--whether it was genuine and born out of prejudice or solely a lie--was enough justification for an innocent black boy's murder.

The defense never needed to prove danger; only fear.

And that raises the question, if we feel unsafe, does it matter if we actually are?

Self-defense is a protection of the law, but how often has it been wielded to exonerate someone from hurting another human being? How can it manipulate guilt? How even do we respond if someone mistakenly kills another person because they genuinely felt unsafe even though they never were?

I would hate to be in that position, but so often we are culpable. Maybe not of intent but of the fear we cultivated or received that twisted innocence into aggression. 

And the pain inflicted is not always immediate. I've seen a consistent push in the last few years to criminalize the homeless in legislation as a way of driving them out of our cities. Recently, I've even seen discussions on criminalizing certain aid to the homeless. What's the justification? Safety. Our citizens feel unsafe. 

What I know about generalizing an entire people group is that more suffer than are held to account. Whether it's people of color, people in poverty, people of a certain religion, labeling an entire group as unsafe allows us to take action against that group to protect our own safety. And in taking that action, we create suffering for the innocent lives that dominate those "unsafe groups." How many children grew up in internment camps because we decided everyone of Japanese heritage was a threat? 

Fear protects us from perceived threats, but it only results in safety when that threat is real. When that threat is nothing but a false presupposition, our fears, our determination to protect our own safety, result in unsafe conditions for those from which we are "protecting" ourselves. 

Fear isn't only dangerous, however, when the threat is false. Even when the threat is real, our pursuit of safety still can't be ultimate. 

I won't fault anyone for pursuing safety--safety is, in fact, one of my favorite things--but when do we allow real risk to prevent us from doing real good? 

Doing God's will doesn't guarantee earthly protection, and sometimes we will experience real ramifications to taking that risk. 

The Ten Boom family, who hid Jewish people from the Nazis during WWII, is a perfect example. They saved many lives, and yet most of the family lost theirs. Corrie was the only one to survive after being imprisoned in a concentration camp. 

Their earthly suffering was very real no matter the eternal implications, but it was still the right thing to do.

Fear is only good when it is not in opposition to goodness. But fear does not make a distinction between real or perceived threats. Fear does not distinguish between the active or passive harm that flows out of it. Fear clouds what is right. Fear centers me and my own protection over the protection of anyone (or even everyone) else. Fear manipulates us and allows us to be manipulated. Fear justifies our selfishness, even convincing us that our self-protection is actually a desire to protect others (if it could happen to me, it could happen to them; thereby acting in fear is selfless).

Safety isn't bad, but safety will betray us to our fears if we're not vigilant. Even in small things I've chosen what feels safe over what is right, and small choices always pave the way for something bigger whether by the ripples of their results or by the way they train our hearts.

We must take our eyes off our fears and onto what is right. And I know that sometimes "right" is hard to determine. In small steps and in big. But even if it's not easy to find, the truth is there. We can ask ourselves questions, we can measure our fear against our actions and against those we hurt, to help us uncover the lies piece by piece. We may not find the whole truth all at once, but we can pursue each part of it boldly. It's hard and sometimes confusing work, and it requires determination. 

But the truth will always be the same whether or not our fears are fantasy or reality. 

And remember, our very lives depend on the choice to sacrifice safety.

Was it safe for Jesus to leave the security and glory of heaven to become human? Was it safe to teach the message He knew would kill Him? He prayed for another way, but He never veered from his path of suffering to pursue safety. He even healed one of the soldiers coming to harm Him.

The cross wasn't safe. The cross wasn't easy. If there was ever a time for fear, that was it. Yet Jesus chose us. He chose to protect us and redeem us no matter what it meant for Him.

He saw us as more valuable than His own life.

And it's because of that provision that the chains of fear are broken. Christians have eternal safety and security, which gives us the freedom to pursue righteousness over earthly safety. 

He chose to protect us, and we can do the same. 

We can choose the right thing. We can combat both the weaponized fear that seeks to control us and the fear born out of our desire for control. 

The idol of safety is rarely discussed, but it's pervasive. And that is what allows fear to control us. That's what makes fear such a powerful tool for manipulation. Fear can create a threat born out of a lie and wield it into probable cause. It hardens us to those who are hurting and justifies our self-protection and our comfort. Fear takes away our ability to discourse and extend grace. Fear corrupts, and fear is a tool for corruption to gain a deeper, more pervasive hold.

Fear doesn't merely affect the lives of those it controls, and it's time to open our eyes, to recognize the fear being grown in our hearts and in our culture, and to see the legacy being built around us. 

Fear steals and destroys, and it's time that we open our hearts and choose a better way.

"When people stop being afraid, they rediscover their compassion." 

~Amazing Grace

Let us be a compassionate people. Let us acknowledge what fear can do. Let us chase after goodness.