Fear Not

אַל־תִּירָא

This phrase is made up of two Hebrew words, the first pronounced "al" and the second "tirah," and together they have usually been translated as "fear not." It's slightly different than what you would say if you wanted to say "do not be afraid," and it's not exactly a command (if it were, it would be "lo tirah"); it inspires comfort. These words are spoken to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, each of the prophets, and I'm told that the phrasing is even preserved in the Greek "fear not" spoken to Mary at the annunciation.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately as I deal with anxiety that causes me to start hyperventilating in department stores. I think about the fear of Abraham, leaving home, of Moses speaking to Pharaoh, of Joshua, who takes over the leadership of all Israel (and is told to "fear not" four times in his first encounter with God). These all seem like occasions in which fear is a very valid reaction. My fear seems petty and useless by comparison. But I take comfort by association, knowing that whenever God or any heavenly being is present, the first words to a human are "fear not." It reassures me to realize that God knows that fear is one of the most pervasive and universal feelings, and that we humans have a hard time dealing with it. When God has shown up, fear has been present, and conversely, when fear is present, God is also with us.

This morning, on my self-imposed Sabbath, I opened the book of psalms and flipped through it without looking until I felt like opening my eyes, and I stopped on Psalm 91. 

You who live in the shelter of the Most High, 
who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,
will say to the LORD, "My refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust."
For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler 
and from the deadly pestilence; 
he will cover you with his pinions, 
and under his wings you will find refuge; 
his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
You will not fear the terror of the night, 
or the arrow that flies by day, 
or the pestilence that stalks in darkness, 
or the destruction that wastes at noonday.

Well, alright then! As I was reading this, I immediately felt safer, even though I'm having trouble with this concept of God's protection lately (a post for another day!). As I read, slowly, out loud, I calmed down. Something about mouthing each word made me slow my breath. Later in the day, I was reading Harold Kushner's book about conquering fear, and he referenced the same psalm and says something along the lines of "notice how all of these scary things still exist." We're not told that bad things won't happen, but it's the paralyzing and self-centered nature of fear that keep us from happiness and goodness, and when we have faith, that fear is mitigated, sometimes slightly and sometimes altogether.

Today, I was only able to calm down for about two hours before the next scary thing set me off, but it was enough. Remembering these words is enough for now.