I’ve had a song stuck in my head since November 3. It wasn’t until I read Laura de Jong’s lovely collection of poems in her post this week that it occurred to me.

Based on the words of one of the poems Laura shared, the song is a Taize chant that we sing in a group spiritual direction cohort I’m participating in called the School of Prayer. At the end of our time of listening, sharing, and learning together, we stand in a (socially distant) circle in the parking lot and sing together: 

Let nothing trouble you or frighten you

For the one who has God lacks nothing

Let nothing trouble you or frighten you

God alone, God alone, God alone is enough

It leapt into my head as I watched the election results start to come in, and it’s been on repeat in my mind ever since. And, truth be told, it’s been making me really mad.

There is so much to be troubled by, so much that frightens me right now. If you’re living in the U.S., and you’re not afraid during this peak-COVID, post-election moment, I’d like to suggest that you are not paying attention. This fear is not insane and it is not faithless. It is what happens when there is uncertainty literally everywhere.

Why does the Bible insist, over and over again, that we must not be afraid?

I have only ever received this “Do not be afraid” commandment as a kind of scolding. Fear is a faithless response. Fear is a denial of God. Fear is wrong, bad, weak. “God alone is enough,” quit your whimpering.

I felt vindicated by listening to a podcast hosted by Kate Bowler in which psychologist Hillary McBride says, “Trying to get rid of fear is like trying to get rid of swallowing or digestion. It’s hardwired into our neurobiology.” THANK YOU, Hillary. (Take that, angel Gabriel.) The podcast encourages us to become more curious about our fear — what memories root it, where it’s felt in our body, whether it has offered something useful and should spark our gratitude. And also how to let it pass.

I’ve come to discover, in my own fear-filled defense, that the disciples were afraid a lot. This is a lifeline for me. One of my favorite stories in Mark’s gospel is when Jesus calms the storm. When it’s done, the disciples “fear a really big fear,” according to the Greek. It makes me laugh every time. This story is a Platitude Greatest Hit (“Jesus is the one who calms my every storm”) and yet the ones in the actual boat that day did not feel comforted, nor calm. They stood in that suddenly glassy sea and miraculously still boat, and they feared themselves a nice, big fear. This I deeply understand.

The disciples were deeply loved by Jesus.

My preaching professor in seminary gave his students this charge: help folks hold two seemingly opposing truths, one in each hand. We cannot be unafraid; we need not be afraid. The storm is real; Jesus is here. This is hard work, holding them both. 

Let nothing trouble you or frighten you; we live in terrifying times.

For the one who has God lacks nothing; we long for a peace, fellowship, unity we do not have.

God alone, God alone, God alone is enough.

May it be so.

Photo by Aarón Blanco Tejedor on Unsplash