Love and Fear

Wednesday after Epiphany

1 John 4:11-18; Mark 6:45-52

Many things John says get my attention, but today, one thing in particular stands out: perfect love drives out fear (1 John 4:18). He doesn’t say that love reduces or manages fear; it drives it out. When love becomes primary, it takes over. There is no room for fear.

It sounds wonderful, but how does that happen? Let me give you an example.

Laying by a pool one day, I noticed a commotion in the water. It was my son. Not only was he in trouble, he was drowning! Immediately, I jumped in. I saved him, but in doing so almost drowned myself. While I was then and still am terrified of drowning, in that moment love completely dominated. There was no time, no room, for fear. All that mattered was love.

That’s what John means. Perfect love doesn’t wait for fear to calm down or try to reason or compromise with it. No, it totally overrides it.

But then Mark adds an important dimension. Sometimes, fear becomes crippling or disabling. For example, the disciples in the boat were terrified, not just because of the storm, but also because of the “ghost” on the water. Fear blinded them; looking right at Jesus, they do not recognize him. And it’s not only them. Recently, while suffering with cancer, I was afraid many times. Despite my own prayers, the fear was so bad that I was tempted to give up.

But that’s where St. Mark’s story proves so helpful. It reminds us that love isn’t only what we give, it’s what we receive when we can no longer carry ourselves. For the disciples in the boat, it was the presence and the voice of Jesus saying, Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid. At that moment, fear lost hold; Christ, Love Himself, had arrived. For me, it was Christ working in ways known only to him and in one way he allowed me to feel: The prayers, the concern, the quiet fidelity of others. Their love was like a “shared” courage that cast out my fear. Together, the love of Christ and the love shared by others in imitation of him are more than enough to stand watch when our own strength falters.

Whether it’s the barque of the Church or the small, fragile boats of our own lives, there will always be dark nights and sudden storms, times when fear threatens to take over. At those moments — at every moment — we must remember that Christ is always here, always personally present to us in Word and Sacrament. He speaks into the storms of every human life, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” And he empowers us to stand watch for one another, to lend strength when strength is failing, and to share the courage that only the grace of God can give.

Fear is real. But as Christ has shown so perfectly, love — his love — is sovereign.

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