Are You Living by Fear or Faith?

“Blessed are they that have not seen, but yet have believed.” (Jn. 20:29 ESV)

Have you noticed lately how many people are living in fear? Fear is so pervasive, we can forget it’s there. Fear is the fan in the background: “Oh, that hum? That’s just the atmosphere of fear.” It’s white noise for everyone, wafting around with varying puffs of hesitation and panic, whether or not you’re Christian.

I’ve even noticed a lot of Christians living in fear. It’s like some Christians see folks standing in front of the fan and walk over to catch the breeze too. I was one of them early in the pandemic when we knew very little about the virus that causes COVID-19. I have a kiddo who spent a month on a ventilator and another eighteen months on oxygen, plus a husband whose workplace is in such close quarters that the idea of social distancing is laughable. With these two in mind, we stayed away from church for a long time during the early months of the pandemic.

As an exhausted mother in the pews, I was ready for a break. I was wrestling three kiddos who always seemed to pinch or push over pew space. I’d take one flailing kid out of worship to calm her down, only to need to take another out ten minutes later. It was a constant battle. Forget actually listening to a sermon; I was getting a workout. During prayers, my eyes were discretely on my kids, not closed in worshipful communion with the Father.

So we stayed home and did church-on-TV. And for a while, it was fine. I could sit in my sweats, coffee in hand, and follow along with what was happening in the sanctuary. But then that stopped working, too. Turns out, kids will fight during YouTube church louder than they’ll fight in the pews.

So we went back to church in person, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

I am part of an aging and shrinking denomination, so it was no surprise that the pews weren’t full when we came back. They haven’t been full for years. While part of me wants to say, “Well, that’s the way of things. There will always be a remnant of the faithful,” I know that doesn’t quite get to the heart of the issue.

The heart issue is that a lot of Christian hearts are pumping fear at a tachycardiac 100 bpm. We’re living in fear, but I remember Paul saying, “If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit” (Gal. 5: 25 ESV). This kind of sustained, fearful living among Christians can’t possibly be what it means to keep in step with the Spirit.

While I want to be patient, and I honestly believe that everyone needs to come to things in their own time, I also want to offer this gentle rebuke if you are living in fear: “Perfect love casts out fear.” Let it.

“What is the world to me?” 17^th-century hymn writer Georg Michael Pfefferkorn asked. Indeed. If the Father’s perfect love for us and Christ’s sacrifice earned us a place in paradise, what could possibly convince us to cling so desperately to this life full of pandemics, and fighting kids in pews, and homelessness, and joblessness, and political wars, and real wars?

We are afraid because we haven’t reckoned with death. And trusting God more than we currently do is always a stretch. I’ll be the first to admit dying scares me. Death sounds terrible. But then, dying after living my life in fear sounds like terror plus regret.

The pandemic has been, for many churches, a heartbreaking lost opportunity to tell the hopeless about the hope we have and pass the peace that passes all understanding to a peaceless culture. Pastors the world over are cursing in their offices as parishioners die “with the beeps of machines in [their] ears instead of God’s Word.” What of those who don’t even have the Word written on their hearts?

I happen to live in one of the least Christian states in the U.S., and I can tell you, the fear is still rampant here. There is some hope due to the vaccines, but there is not a whole lot of hope due to faith in Christ. Not many people besides pastors on Sunday mornings are talking about it, anyway. We ought to change that by first remembering that we have a hope that’s far more powerful and long-lasting than any immunity conferred by a vaccine. We have a hope in Christ that will outlast any government lockdown or hospital stay.

It was a revelation to reread the passage wherein Jesus heals a boy of a particularly nasty demon. The disciples, some of whom had literally just seen Jesus transfigured, weren’t able to heal the boy. Exasperated, Jesus said, “O faithless and twisted generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him here to me” (Matt. 17:17 ESV). And then he explained that if the disciples would only have faith the size of a mustard seed, they could merely speak words and whole mountains would move.

Phew, thank God that even tiny faith is saving faith. My faith is microscopic, and my fear often feels like the air I breathe.

Lord, grow our faith and shrink our fears. We may not need to move mountains, but Lord, move hearts toward you. Give us faith that will remember what we know deep down: that when our death day comes, it will be a joyous homecoming and a welcome rest.

Rhiannon Kutzer is a homeschooling mom of five and proud Navy wife. She works hard to be what Chesterton called a “Jill-of-all-trades,” chronically trying new projects for the sheer joy of exploration. She’s addicted to coffee, enjoys dark beer, and loves to be in the mountains. You can find her on Instagram @rhikutzer.