Jesus and the Problem of Fear in the Present Day World
[Lloyd Cline Sears served as the first academic dean and a professor of English for Harding College from 1934-1960. He is the author of The Eyes of Jehovah: Biography of James Alexander Harding (1970). The following article was delivered 1951 during The Harding College Lectures, Searcy, AR.]
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“Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32)
Fear is in no sense a modern problem. It is as old as the history of man. It is an instinctive emotion, ranging from vague uneasiness to shocks that may stop the heart and paralyze the power to act.
It is not an evil in itself. The capacity to fear is given for the purpose of self-preservation. It rolls the soldier into his foxhole when the artillery opens up and the bombs begin to scream. It keeps people from stepping in front of cars, trying to swim Niagara, or violating the rights of others.
Some things are rightfully to be feared. A man lives longer if he is afraid to drive too fast, to become a slave to drink, to do wrong. Fearing God in the right sense is the secret of a long and happy life.
But our problem with fear is not to let it conquer and enslave us. People often fear things needlessly, and from their own imaginations create terrors that never exist. “Cowards die many times before their deaths.” But even when fear has cause, a constant feeling of dread and insecurity gradually destroys one’s health and produces mental and spiritual depressions that break down nerves and fill our hospitals and asylums. But perhaps worst of all, fear of things actually to be feared may so overwhelm us as to prevent our doing the thing we know to be right, and make moral and spiritual cowards of us all.
In spite of the great progress of civilization we have not yet removed the causes of fear. War through the centuries has been a perpetual cause. Describing the terror which would fill the hearts of men at his second coming Jesus says there would be “in the earth distress of nations . . . men fainting for fear, and for expectation of the things which are coming on the world.”
Even now with the dark cloud of Russia covering a great portion of the earth men are already “fainting for fear.” Our late Secretary of Defense, who leaped to death from his hospital window, was depressed with a feeling of helplessness at conditions which he saw coming and which he could not prevent. A physicist who had helped to develop the atomic bomb and understood its powers of destruction took his own life rather than see the consequences it would bring upon the earth. Living so far from the experiences of war, Americans cannot visualize the terrors which new weapons of warfare will bring. The last war cost more than 15,000,000 lives. But asked the cost of a third world war, Einstein, who helped discover atomic power and who knows its possibilities, said, “In another war three-fourths the population of the earth will be destroyed.” If that figure is anywhere near correct, it means a billion and a half people will perish, and great areas of the earth be practically depopulated. In the face of such possibilities, many of the English people, who for seven hundred years have been the foremost champions of freedom, are ready to accept slavery in Siberian labor camps rather than suffer annihilation from a sudden rain of atomic bombs.
But an even more constant source of fear is the feeling of economic insecurity. A study costing thousands of dollars is now in progress to determine why so many promising young business men develop stomach ulcers and die of heart failure before their time. The cause is the strain and tension under which we live. In a world where men push and struggle to get ahead, we too often forget the rights of everyone except ourselves. Every man knows there is always another ready to take his place. Men no longer use the rough method of Joab when he was about to be supplanted by Amasa. He called him aside with a friendly greeting, “Is it well with thee, my brother?” and suddenly grabbed him by the beard, ripped his sword across him, and shed his bowls out upon the ground. A bloody way of removing rivalry! Instead, men toil harder, haunted by the fear they may not be able to deliver the goods expected, meet payrolls when they are due, keep up production, find markets and buyers, and a thousand other terrors that turn men gray. The world which God created and pronounced good, which he filled with an abundance of wealth for every need, we have turned into a torture chamber where men sweat out their lives for “things,” and break down nerve and brain in the terrific struggle to excel.
But what does Jesus have to say about the problem of fear? His answer is simple and makes complete sense: “Be not anxious . . . for your heavenly Father knoweth.” “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”
If God is our Father, what need is there of fear? As God, he has all wisdom. He knows the future and understands our needs. He has all power to do for us what should be done. As a Father, he has the love to be concerned about his children. “If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father who is in heaven give good things to them that ask him.” If it took the sacrifice of Jesus to give his “little flock” the kingdom, will he not, as the Apostle Paul says, “with him freely give us all things”?
The fact that God is our Father, once we realize the fulness of its meaning, removes all need of fear. This applies to everything that might make us anxious, both great and small. It includes wars, persecutions, and world disasters. In describing the destruction to come upon Jerusalem and the terrible suffering it would bring, Jesus says, “And except those days had been shortened, no flesh would have been saved: but for the elect’s sake those days shall be shortened.” Jesus, looking thirty years ahead, understands God’s concern for his children. In the city which is to be destroyed, God has a “little flock” over which he is watching. Except for them the whole city would be destroyed, and no flesh left living. When the time actually came, Jerusalem was besieged for months; people were reduced to such hunger as to eat their own children, and many died from starvation and pestilence. When the walls were finally breached the remnant of the Jews were slaughtered without pity, or sold into slavery. But those who survived the siege and the slaughter did not realize that they owed their lives to God’s “little flock.” Yet except for this little group, over whom God was watching, all life would have perished.
But for the sake of his own, God can and does control armies and empires. Nebuchadnezzar learned from his own experience that “The Most High ruleth in the Kingdoms of men and giveth them to whomsoever he will.” When Abijah came to the throne of Judah, he suddenly found himself at war with Jeroboam, King of Israel. Jeroboam was a strong and capable leader. His tremendous personal force had been able to wrest ten of the twelve tribes from Solomon’s son, in spite of their love for David. When Abijah, with an army of 400,000 men, and with no military experience, found himself faced with 800,000 trained soldiers under Jeroboam, he did not want to fight. He pleaded with them to return to their own country and not oppose themselves against Jehovah and against his people, for, he said, “we keep the charge of Jehovah our God.”
But while Abijah was yet speaking, with the military genius of a Napoleon, Jeroboam had sent an ambushment around to his rear. When I first read the story, I knew immediately what would happen. Abijah’s faith in Jehovah was splendid. It revealed the goodness of his heart and the simplicity of his trust. But he was unaccustomed to the ruthless scheming of men like Jeroboam. The result could only mean disaster. But I was amazed at the outcome. When Abijah saw the battle joined on all sides of him, and his army trapped, he and his men cried to Jehovah, the priests blew the trumpets, and “God smote Jeroboam and all Israel before Abijah and Judah.” Israel fled with the loss of more than half their army, and Jeroboam was never able to regain his strength. But the writer explains that “the children of Judah prevailed because they relied upon Jehovah.”
I know we are living in perilous times, and no man can foretell the future. The power of Russia is growing larger and darker. But after all, no power can go farther than Jehovah will permit.
When Hitler’s might was growing in 1938-39, an American ambassador in Europe warned, “There is no power on earth that can stop him! He can do what he will!” I think the ambassador was right. At that time there was no power to stop him. But every Christian remembers the great truth Paul wrote to the Corinthians, that the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men, that he takes the base things of the world, and the things that are despised, “yea, and the things that are not” to bring to naught the things that are. This was true in Hitler’s case. The very power of the man blinded him with self-confidence until unnecessarily he made blunder after blunder, finally attacking Russia and creating a war on two sides—the very thing which he said doomed the Kaiser. His ruthlessness aroused the world, and suddenly from sources which had not existed unexpected powers sprang up to overwhelm and crush him. Out of his hate he even helped to create the forces which destroyed him. His scientists struggled frantically to develop the secret of atomic energy. Yet ironically his persecutions drove to America the very scientists like, Einstein, Lise Meitner, Bohr, and others, who could have given Germany this terrible new power which they actually helped to give America. So when his time was full, God spoke and Hitler’s power was scattered like dust. Out of things that were not, God called forth might, and set a bound and limit to his tyranny.
Today no one can know how far God may permit Russia to go. Jerusalem was destroyed. It may be that three-fourths the population of the earth will perish. But whatever may come, God will still keep watch over his own. The slaughter at Jerusalem was stayed “for the elect’s sake.” The mightiest force opposing the triumph of evil, the most powerful influence for peace in the world today, is the “little flock” who consecrate their hearts and lives to God. If the world is finally preserved from utter self-destruction it will be due to the consecration of these Christian hearts.
But with God watching over us there is no reason also to fear for daily needs. The Master taught Peter and the rest to pray for their “daily bread,” and this meant “daily.” These disciples were fishermen, earning a meager living day by day. They had no bank accounts, no life insurance, no old-age pensions, no price supports. They had their families, and food and clothes were cause for constant worry. Yet when Jesus called them to leave the business on which their lives depended, they went out with a simple faith in his promise. For he had said, “Your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.” And again, how full of meaning are his final words, “And lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.”
This is one of the most difficult promises for Christians to believe. Jesus understood how hard it was, and he emphasized it again and again in many different ways. God clothes the lilies of the field, who neither toil nor spin, and provides for the birds, who neither sow nor have store-houses and barns. How much more will he clothe and feed you, O ye of little faith?
The emphasis placed upon the freedom from toil of the lilies and birds is not intended to encourage the shiftless and lazy. The lilies with their beauty are fulfilling the function for which they are created. The birds live according to God’s law and are active in the purpose designed for them. Upon men is placed the responsibility of earning their bread by the sweat of their brows. While this is a penalty for sin, God expects us to live in harmony with his decree. The Apostle Paul in denouncing the shiftless in the early church said. “If any man will not work, neither let him eat.” That is still a wholesome doctrine, both religiously and economically, and is basic even to good health. But while Jesus expects his people to work and to set examples of industry and integrity, they are not to worry about the results or the income. This God takes care of. The Christian must be concerned only that he make God’s kingdom first in his heart and life. If a man can advance God’s kingdom best by preaching or by farming, by teaching or by merchandising, by remaining at home or by going to distant mission fields, let each one do the thing for which he is best fitted. God will provide his needs in food, clothes, shelter, and the other requirements of life.
But here comes one of the greatest difficulties. Most of us are not satisfied with necessary things. We want much more than we really need. The lilies and birds are content with the things God provides. But how much do we as Christians consider our necessities? Jesus, the Son of God, journeyed several times the hundred miles from Naphtali to Jerusalem. Though people of his day rode asses, horses, and chariots, so far as we are told he always went afoot, with the one exception of the few miles on his triumphal entry. Even then, though coming as a King, his humility is expressed in his choice of the ass instead of a chariot or a company of horses. Yet certainly the King of Heaven could have commanded any conveyance he desired. But his life was simple; his needs were few. “Things” made no appeal to him. We read of no adornments of silver or gold. He had one seamless robe, but apparently dressed with meager simplicity. He owned no house where he could lay his head. Since he is the Master, and it is sufficient, he says, that the disciple be as his Lord, how much of all the things you and I possess would he consider essential? In the light of his example can we justify as “needs” expensive cars when less expensive would serve as well? Expensive houses, clothes, vacations, hobbies, entertainment, habits, when his life was so simply lived?
But, you say, times have changed. The whole world lives on a different plane. True. Even in his day some disciples owned houses and fields, carried on their businesses, bought and sold. Many therefore possessed in “things” far more than the Master had. But Christ found no fault if they were things they really could use. The needs of men vary. But we ought honestly to examine ourselves to see if our “wants” are really “needs.” God has promised to supply our needs but never all our wants, and there is a great difference between the two. The terrific strain of life, the nervous tensions, fear, and breaking down of health come from an unbalanced craving to excel in the possession of things. Our wants reach everywhere and include everything—houses, lands, cars, paved highways, antiques, expensive clothes, vacations, sports, insurance, old-age pensions, and all the rest. Many of these make life easier and more comfortable, but each must be paid for by some one’s sweat and toil. It is possible that in our frenzy to possess we become slaves of the things we work for and wear out our lives in fruitless acquisition. But the point for Christians is not to worry. If the thing we want is not a need, toil for it if we will, but don’t blame God if we never get it. And don’t worry. If it is not a need, we can do without it. If it is a need, and we are faithful to the Lord, he will see that we have it.
The faithfulness of God to carry out his promises has been attested by those who have proved him through all times. David said, “I once was young and now I am old, but I have never seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.” Thousands could bear similar testimony.
When J. N. Armstrong was president of Western Bible and Literary College, the doctor told him, “You will have to give up your work and spend a year at least in a higher and drier climate. . . go to New Mexico or Arizona.” The sentence was a crushing blow. He and Mrs. Armstrong with their friends had hardly got the new college started. They had put into it everything they had. It was able to pay no salaries, and they had no savings. How they were even to reach New Mexico was a question, and how they were to live with no promise of support they did not know. But it was a matter of life and death.
When friends learned of it Brother Barker wrote from Las Vegas, New Mexico, offering them a house to live in. The little church, just struggling to keep going, offered what support it could, but far less than the bare necessities for a family of five. Occasionally Brother Barker brought in milk from his ranch, and Brother Turner meat from his shop. But food ran low. Hearing Brother Turner complain that he could not get workers to harvest his beans, Brother Armstrong asked if he might help. As a result, he returned with a two-bushel sack of Mexican beans. The rest of the winter they ate beans daily. But by Christmas they had reached the last of their resources. There was wood for one more day and, except for the beans, food for only another meal or two. In spite of the New Mexico sunshine it was looking like a dark Christmas, when Brother Turner drove up and invited them to his home in the country. It was a wonderful visit. Christmas eve with the table filled with everything a ranch home could furnish. Christmas day, a tree decorated with stick candy and oranges, and a dinner of fresh venison with all the trimmings. But the journey back to town in the afternoon was filled with dread.
The Armstrongs had talked about the crisis they apparently were facing. But they agreed they could mention it to no one else. They felt that God knew, and he surely would provide. But when they thought of the cold house, the few sticks of wood, and the beans, a weight settled on their hearts.
As they drove in, however, they noticed tracks through the snow leading up to the house and away again. When they entered they found a letter some one had pushed beneath the door. It was from the church at Little River, Kentucky, where Brother Armstrong had preached as a boy. It explained that the church had learned of his going to New Mexico. They had been thinking of him near the Christmas season, and they wanted to send him a present. They enclosed a check for fifty dollars! The next day the wood was replenished, some other items were added to the beans, and the New Mexico sunshine was bright again.
It is experiences like that, multiplied in the lives of millions of people, that have added confirmation to their faith that Jesus meant what he said, “Your Father knoweth . . . and these things shall be added unto you.” What need therefore for fear? The Christian can let trust and peace take the place of fear in his life.
But finally, the greatest danger of fear is that it will make us moral cowards and prevent our doing the things we know we ought to do.
Jesus recognized this problem with his disciples and he warned them of the dangers they would face. He was sending them out as sheep in the midst of wolves. They would be persecuted and brought before councils for his name’s sake. For brother would deliver up brother, the father his child, and children their parents, and they would be hated of all men. They were to be wise therefore as serpents and harmless as doves. But they were not to be “anxious.” “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them shall fall to the ground without your father: but the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore: ye are of much more value than many sparrows.” Men probably love themselves as much as anything in the world. But with all our self-devotion, I have never known any man who had numbered the hairs on his head, no matter how much concerned he was about them. It would be an endless task, for the number tomorrow would differ from the number today. But Jesus uses this strong expression to indicate how much God is concerned about even the least things in our lives, even more concerned than we ourselves. With such concern from one who is able to protect, why should we fear to do the thing we ought to do?
But again, thinking of the persecutions that might make them forsake the right through fear of men, he says, “And be not afraid of them that kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.” The fear of death, as the Apostle Paul says, has held men in slavery through the centuries. It has made untold thousands forsake the Lord and his principles of truth and right. Save one, it is the ultimate terror. But there
is one thing more terrible yet—the fear of doing wrong, of failing to meet the responsibilities we recognize in our own hearts. For such failure leads to eternal death.
As Jesus knelt in the garden his body shrank with fear from the suffering ahead. Great drops as of blood fell from his brow. But he had come to do his Father’s will. From this, nothing could terrify him, not even the cross with its slow hours of pain, cutting like knives through every nerve of his body. For not to do his Father’s will was unthinkable, even in the face of suffering.
In the spirit of the Master thousands of his followers through the centuries have feared doing wrong even worse than death. The Apostle Paul on his way to Jerusalem knew that bonds and afflictions awaited him. No physical force compelled him to go. But he had a charge to meet, and faithfulness to that charge drove him forward even in the face of death. For the ultimate terror is not physical death but the failure to do right.
The Master’s teaching on the problem of fear may be quickly summarized. His children are to fear only one thing —doing the devil’s will, “him who has the power to destroy both body and soul in hell.” If we do the will of our Father, make his kingdom first in our lives, we are not to be anxious about the things we need, and even in times of danger and death we should fear no evil for he is with us “even unto the end of the world.”
L. C. Sears (1895-1986)
Christ and Present Day Problems
The Harding College Lectures 1951
(pp. 20-30)