There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.
1 John 4:18
The subject of fear was not my choice of topic. I wanted to write about something that felt safer and easier, but eventually I could not ignore the prods of the Spirit. This is a message that feels chaotic, unfinished, a small piece of the journey to live into God’s fullness.
The world seems full of reasons to be afraid these days. We are living in a time of climate disaster, political chaos in our own country, and now a devastating war in the Middle East. How do these affect me? What will be the impact on my family? I had been grappling with fears like these throughout the late summer and fall. I was aware that my fears were nothing compared to so many others, yet still sometimes I would wake up worrying for my family, for myself, for the world.
During this time, I have read two books that were testimonies to non-violent actions, a book about Gandhi and a small book, Victories Without Violence: True stories of ordinary people coming through dangerous situations without using physical force, compiled by A. Ruth Fry. Here were stories of people who had the strength and courage to react without violence, even when they were in grave danger. How did they do this?
Through a lot of worship, praying with the psalms, and reflections shared by others in various communities I worship with, I was finding ways to let God quiet my soul. I spent a lot of time with Psalm 131:
My heart is not proud Lord. My eyes are not haughty. I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. But I have quieted my soul, like a child quieted at its mother’s breast.
It took months, but eventually the message began to seep in. I was able to let go of a lot of fear. Every time I quoted the lines, I was reminded that I could not fix these “great matters,” but I could let my soul be quieted. Ironically, I found myself freed to do more, but with less judging and more centered loving. The change was but a small step on the path. I still have been picking up the yoke of worry and fear or turning away from love all too often.
Shortly after the attack on Israel by Hamas and the Israeli response, my husband received a communication from a rabbi and reached out to a couple of Jewish friends, none of whom had supported the hard line of the Israeli government. They all expressed tremendous fear. They believe Jews all over the world are in great danger and are at serious risk of extermination. I reflected to Michael that Palestinians had the same fear for themselves.
People, me included, often respond to fear by avoiding the situation, or by acting with aggression or violence. Avoidance usually leaves the fear untouched. Violence always seems to lead to more violence. Finding the place of love in the face of fear is not easy, and I cannot do it often or alone.
Faith—through whatever words or practices are used—and standing with others in a commitment to humble love feed the soil that nurtures a non-violent response. When I can connect to the burning oneness binding everything, it helps me to cast out fear and instead to touch perfect love.
I want to condemn all those who respond to fear with violence, even if it is just verbal violence, but do I stand enough in perfect love to judge? I am clear that I can stand with those in pain when the opportunity arises, and I can continue to try to grow in the love that casts out fear. I am grateful when my Quaker communities help me to reach for that love.