Not
long ago my wife was cleaning out the closet and came upon my grandfather's old
army helmet, given to me when I was a young boy. For many years I thought it
was just an old enlisted man's helmet – "standard issue"—and nothing
more. Then I learned a bit of its history from my mother and my grandmother. It
turns out my grandfather had volunteered for service in WWII, had been sent to Europe with the 2nd Infantry "Indianhead" division, had
landed at Normandy, had fought in the Battle of the Bulge,
had somewhere along the way been promoted to Captain, and had won a Purple
Heart. One other detail they mentioned: My grandfather had left for the war
with very dark, almost black hair, and had returned with white hair. That last
part intrigued me. Here was a man of great courage, and yet a man who clearly
had experienced the deepest horrors of war.
Reading the Apostle Paul's second epistle to Timothy the other day I was reminded again of my grandfather. Famously, Paul encouraged Timothy to "stir up the gift of God," and explained why Timothy did not have to shrink from that calling: "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind" (2 Tim. 1:7). For most of my life as a Christian I, like most Christians, took that verse to mean this: "Don't allow fear a place in your heart, Timothy, because fear is not of God." During times when fear gripped my heart I would read that verse and find not encouragement but condemnation. Try as might, I simply could not make the feeling of fear go away at such times, not even by commanding it to flee in the name of Jesus. Why can't I shake these anxieties and fears? What's wrong with me?, I would ask myself. Then reflecting on my grandfather's indisputable bravery on the battlefield I realized something: The experience of fear is not a sin. Indeed, Paul knew that as well as anyone.
Why do I say this? Well for starters, Paul openly confessed that he was occasionally fearful: "I was with you in weakness, and fear, and much trembling" (1 Cor. 2:3). In Second Corinthians Paul points out that the hardships he endured in Asia were so intense that he "despaired even of life" (2 Cor. 1:8). In Macedonia, he continues in Chapter 7, "we were troubled on every side. Outside were conflicts, inside were fears" (v. 5). Clearly, Paul experienced fear. Furthermore he mentions this fact not in the context of confessing his sins, but of defending his apostleship. To say that feeling anxious or fearful is a sin amounts to saying that soldiers like my grandfather, who visibly tremble and quake as bullets scream past their heads, are actually more guilty of cowardice than the average civilian enjoying an evening at home with his family. But that doesn't really make sense.
Here's what I believe Paul is saying: "You may be experiencing fear, Timothy, but that's not from God himself -- not what God desires for you, and not who God made you." The difference is subtle, but important. Fear is something God allows us to feel and experience, but not something at the heart of God's will. That doesn't make it sinful, but simply undesirable. In much the same way, it is not God's will for my house to get robbed, but I certainly have not sinned if my house gets robbed nonetheless. My job is to manage and respond to each situation – whether having my house robbed or having feelings of fear rise up within me –the best I can in obedience to God. So Paul continues in verse 8 of 2 Timothy, "Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but share with me in the sufferings for the gospel according to the power of God." In other words, fear cannot be allowed to compromise our testimony of obedience to Christ. All this suggests that the power, love and sound-mindedness of God enable us to carry out our responsibilities even in the face of present fears.
Now it should be obvious that if believing that God has given us a spirit of power, love and a sound mind results in a state of perfect peace, then there would be no suffering. Suffering by definition involves a lack of peace. But Paul connects the assurance of one with the assurance of the other. The suffering to which Paul invites Timothy to share includes often, or at least sometimes, a measure of fear itself – the very sorts of fears my grandfather faced on the battlefield. But as Paul argues, a Christian obeys God despite those fears. "You therefore must endure hardship as a good soldier of Jesus Christ" (2 Tim. 2:3).
Reading the Apostle Paul's second epistle to Timothy the other day I was reminded again of my grandfather. Famously, Paul encouraged Timothy to "stir up the gift of God," and explained why Timothy did not have to shrink from that calling: "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind" (2 Tim. 1:7). For most of my life as a Christian I, like most Christians, took that verse to mean this: "Don't allow fear a place in your heart, Timothy, because fear is not of God." During times when fear gripped my heart I would read that verse and find not encouragement but condemnation. Try as might, I simply could not make the feeling of fear go away at such times, not even by commanding it to flee in the name of Jesus. Why can't I shake these anxieties and fears? What's wrong with me?, I would ask myself. Then reflecting on my grandfather's indisputable bravery on the battlefield I realized something: The experience of fear is not a sin. Indeed, Paul knew that as well as anyone.
Why do I say this? Well for starters, Paul openly confessed that he was occasionally fearful: "I was with you in weakness, and fear, and much trembling" (1 Cor. 2:3). In Second Corinthians Paul points out that the hardships he endured in Asia were so intense that he "despaired even of life" (2 Cor. 1:8). In Macedonia, he continues in Chapter 7, "we were troubled on every side. Outside were conflicts, inside were fears" (v. 5). Clearly, Paul experienced fear. Furthermore he mentions this fact not in the context of confessing his sins, but of defending his apostleship. To say that feeling anxious or fearful is a sin amounts to saying that soldiers like my grandfather, who visibly tremble and quake as bullets scream past their heads, are actually more guilty of cowardice than the average civilian enjoying an evening at home with his family. But that doesn't really make sense.
Here's what I believe Paul is saying: "You may be experiencing fear, Timothy, but that's not from God himself -- not what God desires for you, and not who God made you." The difference is subtle, but important. Fear is something God allows us to feel and experience, but not something at the heart of God's will. That doesn't make it sinful, but simply undesirable. In much the same way, it is not God's will for my house to get robbed, but I certainly have not sinned if my house gets robbed nonetheless. My job is to manage and respond to each situation – whether having my house robbed or having feelings of fear rise up within me –the best I can in obedience to God. So Paul continues in verse 8 of 2 Timothy, "Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but share with me in the sufferings for the gospel according to the power of God." In other words, fear cannot be allowed to compromise our testimony of obedience to Christ. All this suggests that the power, love and sound-mindedness of God enable us to carry out our responsibilities even in the face of present fears.
Now it should be obvious that if believing that God has given us a spirit of power, love and a sound mind results in a state of perfect peace, then there would be no suffering. Suffering by definition involves a lack of peace. But Paul connects the assurance of one with the assurance of the other. The suffering to which Paul invites Timothy to share includes often, or at least sometimes, a measure of fear itself – the very sorts of fears my grandfather faced on the battlefield. But as Paul argues, a Christian obeys God despite those fears. "You therefore must endure hardship as a good soldier of Jesus Christ" (2 Tim. 2:3).
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