Twelfth Sunday of Ordinary Time-B
One of the most universal emotions we encounter in life is fear. From both a psychological and theological standpoint, fear is the mind’s response to the looming threat of significant evil. This evil can manifest in various forms, from immediate danger to potential future peril. For instance, one might experience immediate fear when caught in the midst of a violent storm or when anticipating its arrival.
The main reason fear exists in the first place is an acknowledgment of some helplessness. Usually, a person becomes fearful when they receive a diagnosis of cancer. At that moment, the patient becomes afraid because he is aware that he has no power on his own to minimize the great evil of cancer. Fear is not only relegated to bodily harm because there are instances when a senior citizen may fear he hasn’t enough money saved to last throughout his life.
The disciples, too, feared being in a boat with Jesus when nature took its course. A violent squall arose, and the waves crashed over the boat, which was already filling with water. The crux of this biblical passage is central to our discussion about fear. Jesus was sleeping, and, in their fear, they woke him. “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” Their fear was not just a fear of the storm but their mortality, which resonates with many of us.
After he awoke, Jesus, demonstrating his awe-inspiring divine power, rebuked the wind and told the sea to be quiet and still. Immediately, the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. This divine intervention is critical to exploring the interplay between fear and faith. After calm was restored, Jesus asked his disciples why they were terrified. The question would be strange if not for the next question Jesus asked them about their lack of faith.
It’s crucial to recall that, at this time, the disciples were still grappling with the true identity of the man they were following. They were deeply perplexed, asking themselves the following question: “Who then is this whom even the wind and sea obey?” This uncertainty about Jesus’ identity is a pivotal part of our discussion on fear and faith. When Jesus questioned them about their faith, he couldn’t have been surprised by their initial reaction to the storm. They believed their fear should have been the same in the person of Jesus, and they were taken aback when they discovered otherwise.
This short story is an archetype of the relationship a human being encounters with evil, morally or physically, and the inclusion of the divine in the specific moment when we are afraid. It seems that the question is not whether Christians lack faith when presented with situations eliciting terror but whether faith is exhibited even if their fears are justified by bodily or psychological harm.
Consider the differences to make this statement more understandable. Countless stories have been told about people praying the Our Father or Hail Mary in a rote fashion when faced with trauma. There is a level of faith in invoking God in these instances. Once the emergency is over, people naturally return to the level of trust before the incident.
But what about the level of faith when the tragedy is not alleviated and the fear realized? It may be the cancer patient who does not receive a miraculous end or a person fearing poverty coming true. When the prayers through faith do not seem to have helped, Christians have two options: either question their faith insofar as God didn’t hear their prayers and did not save them from tragedy. The other reason is a person’s faith is consistent regardless of the outcome.
In the latter case, faith is not based upon the resolution of individual circumstances and outcomes but extends to a belief in the wholeness of life. When Jesus was about to die, his natural human reaction was to plead to his Father, asking him to take the cup of suffering away. Jesus’ prayer to his Father is similar to our prayer in the face of fear. But Jesus did not stop there; his mission was not that his life be spared, but through the greatest evil befalling a person, his death was part of a grander scheme when he said let his Father’s will be done.
Jesus knew his death would bring about the reconciliation of humanity with God. It was a plan of salvation in which the faith we have spoken about is anchored. Even though we have moments when righteous fear is present, a mature faith looks past those moments with a firm conviction that God’s providence in our life sometimes includes experiencing these tragedies while firmly holding that all will be all right in the end, especially noting our end is eternal life with God.
The mature faith just mentioned changes the way we approach our lives presently. It is not that we will not be fearful; instead, fear does not consume us because, in faith, we know the outcome. Jesus affirms that we will suffer just as he did, but remaining in communion with him results in our resurrection when fear will become obsolete human emotion.