I'm Scared - Cultivating Hope in an Anxious Time
“I’ve lost about 15 pounds this past month,” Bryan said. “Just figured you should know.” Bryan’s anxiety and stress that started after losing a family member to COVID-19, compounded when he watched the video of George Floyd’s death. “I didn’t expect it to impact me that much,” Bryan said, “this isn’t the first time, or even the first time in a while, that I’ve seen a video where someone who looks like me is hurt or killed…” his voice trailing off. A minister, Bryan has been caring skillfully for others for the last few months, but something’s changed recently. He’s lost his appetite and is showing signs of stress.
Earlier that day, I’d had a conversation with a friend whose anxiety about his relationship with his teenage son has kept him up most nights this week. “I don’t know what’s happening in him,” he said, “I just know he’s angry and in pain.” This friend’s fear about his relationship with his son filled the space between us with a heavy weight.
These conversations forced me to take a more honest look at myself. I’ve lost about 14 pounds since March too. This week I’ve bolted upright in the middle of the night perhaps for reasons other than the nightly barrage of fireworks between 11 and 4 am. Perhaps it’s past time to name and address the fear and anxiety so prevalent in this moment.
Naming Fears
The fears that we’re feeling in this moment are not irrational. A deadly disease has moved through our country and communities. It not hard to remember how, each week in April, the illness got closer and closer to people we knew and loved. This illness that was ‘out there’, became one that had infected friends of friends. Then friends got sick. Then close friends. Then we started to grieve the loss of loved ones. The economic impact started to come home as unemployment skyrocketed. Walking past closed small businesses or listening to friends lament the loss of opportunity or income was a sobering reminder that a deep recession was already upon us. And then, the loss of Amhaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd caused a simmering discontent about violence against black people to boil over into the streets.
None of these conditions has changed. Infection rates are shrinking in some places and accelerating in others. Economic recovery is slow. And, our capacity to work past racial trauma into a shared, connected, and healthy public conversation around racism is low.
We carry fears in our bodies. Is it safe for me to go out and re-engage in my community? Will we be able to make ends meet? What’s going to happen in my workplace or industry? How is my racial assignment and ethnic identity being perceived by others? Am I safe? Am I connected? Am I seen? Known? Valued?
Choosing Faith
Fear is such a primal experience for us that the Bible is full of exhortations to not be afraid. In Mark 4:40 Jesus asks his disciples a pointed question, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” At first glance, Jesus’ question seems a little unfair. He and his disciples had just been in a storm at sea. The boat had been taking on water. And his disciples, many of whom were experienced fishermen and, presumably, competent seamen, were afraid. The disciples’ faith seems beside the point. They’d been in the midst of a crisis at the mercy of forces they couldn’t control. Their boat was taking on water. Being afraid seemed like an appropriate response under the circumstances.
And yet, Jesus’ questions linger. This story in Mark 4:35-41 is a hinge from a series of Jesus’ parables in which he describes the kingdom of God as something to be received and recognized, to a section where Jesus will demonstrate the kingdom of God in deeds of power. These questions hover at the intersection of belief and behavior. Mark is taking his readers on a journey from parable to practice, from abstract concepts to concrete application.
Curiously, Jesus’ questions are present tense. They do not ask, “why were you afraid,” but “why are you afraid?” This suggests that the fear is not merely circumstantial. It may be appropriate for fishermen who have an appropriate understanding of storms at sea to experience fear as the boat takes on water. Jesus’ questions probe for present fear. Why are you afraid?
In the midst of global crises about health, finance, and racial justice we may do well to appreciate the power of the storms and the limits of our ability to control them. We may also do well to probe beneath the circumstances to fear that plagues us beneath the wind and waves. When I fear for my health or the health of my family, am I really assessing the risks in the environment or am I confronting the fear of abandonment, powerlessness, and death I’ve been avoiding. Are my fears about our economy displaced anxiety about not being a good provider or dad, or fear that I might be the professional failure I dread? Does the conversation about race and justice unearth anxieties about my connection to various communities that matter to me? Seen in this light, my fears, like the disciples’ fears, are stirred up in the storm but have a deeper root.
Jesus’ questions summon his followers to faith. Faith is not the denial of danger or an attempt to be impassive and impervious to pain. Faith, in Mark’s context, is what happens when we receive Jesus’ words and hold them close. To hold Jesus’ words close in the context of Mark 4 would mean; asking for understanding and insight into Jesus’ teaching (Mark 4:10), attending carefully to what we understand of Jesus’ teaching (Mark 4:24), accepting that our spiritual growth is something outside of our control (Mark 4:28), and actively anticipating that small acts of faithfulness will produce much larger transformation (Mark 4:30-32).
For Jesus’ disciples, faith would not have meant ignoring the storm, it would have meant asking different questions. Instead of worrying whether Jesus cared about their fate (Mark 4:38), his disciples might have asked, “how can we be faithful to God, to you, and to one another in a time like this?”
Living Hope
What would it look like for us to choose faith in a season of storms? The challenges around us aren’t going away. Many will only intensify as we move into a presidential election and a rapidly changing cultural landscape. Here are four things we can do to move from fear to faith so that we live in hope.
1. Take Sabbath – Taking Sabbath is a radical action in the midst of crisis. The more anxious we are, the more likely we are to give ourselves to activity or distraction. The frenetic energy we put into work, or to finding the next distraction, is simply a way of avoiding our fears and allowing them to control us. Taking a 24-hour period every week to disengage from work, to rest, to relate, to delight, and to restore our soul through worship, is an embodied way of saying these crises don’t define me.
When was the last time you took a 24-hour period to take sabbath in the way above? How might taking this space every week help you be less afraid?
2. Hold Jesus’ Words – Like the disciples in the passage above, we default to fear and anxiety when we’re not holding onto the words of Jesus. Jesus’ words are good news. They speak of justice and mercy, of forgiveness and holiness, of compassion and wisdom. Meditating on the words and work of Jesus has the ability to reshape our perspective, increase our hope, and inspire joy.
How are you holding onto Jesus’ word during this season? What might change if you took a few minutes every morning, mid-day, and evening to reflect and meditate on Jesus’ words in Mark 4 this week?
3. Pray Daily – Prayer is to the spiritual life what breathing is to our physical life. The less we pray the more anxious we become. This leads to frenetic activity and distraction. The simple practice of praying in the morning and evening can interrupt the patterns of anxiety and reorient us away from fear and towards faith. If prayer is difficult for you, and it is for many of us, try simply repeating a scripture like, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!” (Matthew 8:25)
What are your prayer habits during this season? How might the practice of praying, even briefly, morning and evening reduce your anxiety and fear?
4. Pursue Justice – Fear turns us inward. We fear there won’t be enough, so we hold ourselves back from others materially, relationally, and socially. This makes fear worse by further isolating us. Pursuing justice turns us outward, forcing us to consider not only our own wellbeing, but the interest and wellbeing of others. Pursuing justice can start by knowing the people whose livelihoods are most intertwined with our own, seeking to understand their concerns and perspectives. It can lead us to budget in ways that serve people well. It can also lead us to participate in meaningful social or political work, though it’s usually healthiest if it doesn’t start there.
What are the ways you’ve been pursuing justice this season? How might taking one step into greater awareness or engagement help you become less afraid?
It’s past time to name and address the fear and anxiety so prevalent in this moment. Practicing these spiritual disciplines will help us become more aware of the fears and anxieties that are undermining our health, relationships, and social engagement. They will give us perspective, invite us to faith, and reshape our hope.
Share below your best spiritual practices for overcoming fear and anxiety.