Cliff’s day began with a kathisophobia flare-up. As he stood awkwardly in the kitchen, sipping his coffee, trying to work up the nerve to sit down, he wondered why he had been struck with such an uncommon fear. Unsurprisingly, he had this flare-up—fears tend to come in bunches. Cliff was scheduled to give an important presentation at work. Glossophobia, the fear of public speaking, is a common fear. But his sesquipdealophobia and hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia (fear of long words and fear of very long words) had him in a panic.
Unable to sit in his car, Cliff took the long trek to work. He had to avoid the skate park—his ephebiphobia wouldn’t let him near teenagers. Perhaps that would have been the better option for him, though. When he turned the corner, he saw a large dog and froze, his cynophobia momentarily paralyzing him. To avoid the dog, he attempted to go down a dark alley but had to dart back once his nyctophobia got the better of him.
Cliff finally arrived in time for a morning snack. Only a few hours before the presentation. Why did he pack a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on a day like this? He should have known that his arachibutyrophobia would be at its peak today. He gagged as he imagined peanut butter clinging to the roof of his mouth. He’d need to forgo the meal and head to the presentation.
With all these fears swirling around, Cliff thought maybe he’d sit down—but once again, his kathisophobia kept him standing, unable to rest.
While to some, Cliff’s story is outright ridiculous, others can perhaps identify with at least a few of these fears. Fear is a normal part of life outside of Eden. It can be helpful—a child crossing a busy street should have a healthy fear of passing cars. But we all know that fear can get outside of its banks and become unhealthy, or in Cliff’s case, crippling.
Fear is an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain or a threat. As evidenced in Cliff’s situation, there are a number of fears. While we might not be introduced to something like Zemmiphobia (fear of the Great Mole Rat) in the Bible, there are a few prominent fears. Often, there is a battle between fearing man and fearing God.
Two main Hebrew words are translated as fear. I wish I could tell you that one meant reverential fear or awe, and the other was a knocking in your knees because you just saw a snake. Unfortunately, these words have a wide semantic range and are often synonymous. But we do have a little help.
The most common word group is yirah. This is a word with a wide semantic range. It can mean reverential fear and anxiety, dread, terror, etc. It’s a little like the word “run”. You can run for president, run the copy machine, run in a marathon, run the company, get a run in your pantyhose, and, as a result, have tears run down your face. Yirah is similar. You can have a yirah of God that is more like awe, and you can have a yirah of God because you are a scoundrel in His presence.
The second word group, pachad, has less semantic range. It is always dread and terror. It’s not a word that you would use for awe. It’s like the word you’d use to describe Cliff’s fears. While you could say that you have a yirah of snakes, pachad is the word you would likely reach for when you encounter one.
Regarding the New Testament, there is only one word, and it is familiar: phobos. This is where we get our word phobia. While you might think of it as an irrational fear, that is not what the word means in Greek. It, like yirah has a wide semantic range. People were terrified (phobos) of Jesus in Matthew 14:26 and in Acts 9:31 the early church lived “in the fear (phobos) of the Lord”.
This wide range of meaning is what gives us some perplexing issues. How can John say in 1 John 4:18 that perfect love casts out fear, and yet we see the same root word (phobeo) used as a command in 1 Peter 2:17?
Let’s go back to Cliff for a second and imagine the attire of everyone in the room when he gives his speech. (If he can muster up the courage). It’s a business environment, so you have suits, ties, dress pants, and what you’d expect. Except for one dude who is wearing a baseball jersey, has that Tim Tebow eye-black under his eyes, and is wearing a ball cap. Now, as Cliff walks in, he’s a little confused. But who is he confused by? He’ll likely be thrown by the guy looking like he’s about to play a baseball game. He doesn’t fit in the room.
1 John 4:18 is, in a sense, the guy wearing the baseball uniform. The Scriptures are filled with references to fearing God--both a reverential fear and the terror you’d expect to have when you’ve drawn the ire of the Creator of the sun. But then John comes in, wearing his baseball uni, and says there is no fear in love.
We know that love is the glue that holds it all together. Love is what caused God to give His only begotten Son. It is love that held Him there. Love which raised Him. And Love which reached us. Love, in the world of 1 John, is the blood flowing through the veins of a believer. You aren’t part of the family if you don't have love. In other words, love is a big deal.
Fear bows before love.
To use our illustration, John is telling us that on a certain point that needs to be made, the guy in the baseball uniform isn’t the weirdo—the suits and ties are. But the way we so often do Bible study, we want to make sure everybody is wearing the same stuff; we’re thrown by the guy decked out in baseball gear, and we try to make him change his clothes. But all the while, he is protesting. There is a reason why he is wearing what he is, and if we pause and listen to him, we might learn something.
I don’t know why the guy in our analogy is wearing his uniform to work. Maybe he has a company softball game right after the meeting. But I know why John wears sports attire when all the other verses are suits and ties. John is telling us something very specific, and it’s all about how we relate to God now that we are in Christ.
Picture a big circle, and in that circle is the action of love, which John has been talking about the whole time. John tells the believers in his audience that they have things in their lives that testify they are in that circle. In John’s time, people said, “If you want to be ‘in the circle of acceptance,’ then you need to do A-Z.” That’s fear talking. Do this, and you’ll be accepted. Don’t, and you’ll be zapped.
John is telling a different story. A gospel story that goes back to Adam and Eve. They were in that circle of love—it was the Garden. But they rebelled and stepped outside the circle. By doing this, all those awful things like guilt, shame, and fear poured over them. Notice what the fear does—it makes them try to cover themselves as if fear can somehow get you back into the circle.
They’ve moved outside the circle of love. And because of this, there is fear, fear, fear. It will never work, no matter what they pull down to cover themselves. There will always be this nagging sense—and it’s correct—that you aren’t covered enough because you aren’t. The emperor has no clothes.
And over this awful story of our demise, John says, “Perfect love casts out fear.” He is drawing a circle around us—putting us back in the Garden because of the gospel. And he’s saying in this circle, fear doesn’t belong anymore. If you want to keep words like reverential fear and awe, please do, but it’s not John’s point here.
When you realize you have access and the same standing that Jesus does…and that it is not because of anything you’ve done but it is all in Christ, because of Christ, and only because of Christ…well, you don’t have fear. When you stand before God on judgment day, He will not see your good deeds or record. He will see that of Jesus. Why would I fear if I’m covered by Christ?
Should we fear God? Absolutely. But we need to know, with John, that it isn’t fear which produces holiness. When we sin, we are—in a sense, placing ourselves outside the circle. And that’s why you’ll experience things like fear. (That’s not saying your standing has changed). Fear is prevalent outside the circle. But in Christ, it melts away. Love produces holiness and, oddly enough, leads to the right kind of fear.
The key to helping Cliff isn’t to focus on his fears. We might even acknowledge that while we are still awaiting redemption, he might have the occasional battle with fearing the neighbor’s harmless poodle. And we don’t chide him and try to stir up some other kind of fear—as if that would calm his fears and whip him into shape. No, we rehearse the gospel over and over and over again with Cliff.
Christ is present in the life of those who are crippled by an irrational fear of sitting down. That is the fundamental place to start in helping Cliff. It is for him to understand a proper fear. Yes, it is important to understand all of the gospel, such as the consequences of sin. However, the keynote of the gospel for someone like Cliff will be the sure and certain acceptance that comes through Christ. This is what drives out fear.
Cliff’s healing will come when his worship is greater than His fears. It will happen when we see Christ as He is. And that may not fully happen until the new heaven and earth. But it will. And that’s something Cliff, and you and I, can hang onto even if we’re trembling. And as those gospel roots go deeper, who knows, maybe this perfect love will succeed in the here and now at casting out these fears.
Photo Credit: ©GettyImages/AaronAmat
Mike Leake is husband to Nikki and father to Isaiah and Hannah. He is also the lead pastor at Calvary of Neosho, MO. Mike is the author of Torn to Heal and Jesus Is All You Need. His writing home is http://mikeleake.net and you can connect with him on Twitter @mikeleake. Mike has a new writing project at Proverbs4Today.