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The
Lightstand Magazine
1995
• March • Editorial
by Bro. Alistair Henderson
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Fear
is mostly an irrational emotion, though at times the cause
of it can be too real. One would understand someone feeling
fear who was utterly alone, deserted by his friends and supporters
and surrounded by enemies baying for his blood. But why should
anyone fear him? And yet, as we look at the events on the
day of the Lord Jesus Christ's crucifixion, that is the indelible
impression with which we are left. If we want to understand
the events, we have to try to think our way into the minds
of those who were there. The Lord was always the central figure
- even when he went up to the feast secretly, he was immediately
in the centre.
We can understand some kinds of fear easily enough. There
was the raw fear of the disciples fleeing from the priest-instigated
mob in Gethsemane. After all their heady talk, as the Lord
had warned them, they panicked and rushed off into the protecting
darkness. One or two crept back: Peter to the palace of the
High Priest, John in the end to the very foot of the Cross.
One can understand Peter's fear as the servant cross-questioned
him. In contrast, there were always the faithful women, putting
themselves at risk, watching from afar what would happen -
their fear would be perfectly explicable. For Pilate the situation
was quite straightforward: public peace was endangered, and
should there be trouble it would not do his reputation as
a governor any good. So he feared the troublemaker.
Even Pilate could recognize the envy of the priests (Mark
15:10). Envy is itself a form of fear - that the other person
will get the better of you. We read that the chief priests
stirred up the crowd against Jesus (v 11), asking for the
insurrectionist, Barabbas, to be released to them instead
of Jesus. This is the behaviour of frightened men - they were
just as much against extremists as the Romans were, and yet
Barabbas seemed to them preferable to Jesus. One was a known
murderer; the other had harmed no man - indeed had gone about
doing good. Their concern shows how much they felt their own
power threatened; how much they felt their comfortable status
quo was at risk. And yet the man had never come with a band
of violent men to threaten them, nor had he made overtures
to the Romans as the leader of an opposing political faction.
Thus this was an inordinate and irrational fear, quite out
of proportion to the "threat". It arose from two
sides: like Pharaoh of old their hearts were hardened in the
fullness of God's judgement upon a faithless generation; and
there was a second, simply human reason. Jesus' life made
theirs seem ugly in contrast, and they could not stand the
exposure of their greed and hypocrisy.
But what about the people? It was true that the priests had
stirred them up, and that a mob is always in the hands of
a clever demagogue, but the swing from their shouts of welcome
as he rode into Jerusalem to the hate-filled howls before
the governor's palace needs some reason. If one had asked
them, they probably could not have explained.
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Were
they disappointed because Jesus had not turned out to be the blood
and thunder messiah they had expected? No quick solution occurred,
no new and glorious Jewish state emerged. Instead, Jesus asked something
of them. What his life and teaching demanded would not have been
much of a threat if he had just been ordinary, but his power to
heal and his words that moved - such that they had never seen or
heard before - made him a force they could not ignore. He called
on each individual to face himself or herself; to accept God's right
over every life; to submit to His will; to live with full responsibility
for the state of the relationship with Him. In effect he demanded
the same sacrifice and suffering he was prepared to undergo. Such
a man is truly dangerous, shaking up the very basis of every selfish
life. Best get him out of the way, and then one need not bother.
Such fear runs deep indeed, and stirs the deepest hatred within.
One might be forced to change one's life utterly.
So one might go on to examine other fears:
the superstitious response of the pagan soldiers, for instance.
One person was not afraid, the Lord himself. He had in his humanity
faced fear in Gethsemane, in the full knowledge of what lay ahead.
But having submitted to God's will, he was able to be quiet and
rest in Him.
Once the crucifixion was all over, his followers began to take stock.
Joseph "boldly" went to Pilate about the body; the women
went to the tomb early in the morning determined to prepare the
body as custom prescribed, their fear now the practical one that
they would not be able to move the great stone seal. Gradually those
who had refused to believe
the report of the resurrection were challenged by the risen Christ,
and forced to take account of him once again. Once accepted, they
went out, utterly changed to take on, the world.
For us the choices and challenges are the same, the spread of people
is the same. What kind of fears do we have? Do we worry about what
our response would be to having to endure persecution for his sake?
Are we worried about how others see us if we openly acknowledge
our allegiance? Are we worried about the consequences to our comfortable
lives if once we let him in? Are we sure we want to be changed utterly?
Once we have heard of him, there can be no neutral position: we
are either for him or against him, and we must decide what we fear
most - the consequences of following him, or the censure of the
world and the loss of its advantages. It is fearful to fall into
the hands of the living God and of His Son: we fear the extent of
the demands on us. But that fear is irrational, lonely though it
may be to be the follower of that lonely man. Let us consider his
love, and that perfect love casts out fear. And consider the proof
of that love in the very sacrifice made on our behalf. In the last
verse of Mark's gospel we read, "Then the disciples went out
and preached everywhere, and the Lord worked with them ..."
It is our privilege in our way in a very different dispensation
to go out and do likewise, secure in the knowledge of the love of
God. We shall then be too busy to fear, or to hold back on what
it demands of us - instead we shall give gratefully what we have
received.
A.H.
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