In the context of religion, faith is a natural consequence of professing to believe in God. If there’s a Creator, there must be some plan, and so the thinking goes, we should have faith in it.
Faith means the notion of confidence or trust in a person, thing, or concept; in this case, the Creator – אמונה / בטחון.
But how we talk about faith doesn’t always make sense.
People get afraid and worried about everyday life, like whether they can afford to pay their bills or if their loved one will recover from sickness. The root of every human fear is the notion that we are fundamentally powerless against the forces of the universe.
There can sometimes be a toxic Emunah culture that stifles, suffocates, and squashes real people with real feelings. That sounds like when people say things like don’t worry, God has a plan, or it’s for the best, trust God, and have faith that everything will work out. As the famous song goes, the main thing is to have no fear at all – והעיקר לא לפחד כלל.
Whether spoken or unspoken, or even in your own thoughts, there is an invalidation or judgment here; to the extent you feel doubts or fears, you really have to work on your faith, because if you had faith in God, you wouldn’t feel afraid – because faith and fear are incompatible and mutually exclusive.
But is that so true?
Firstly, there is a serious problem with the notion that there is something intrinsically wrong with fear. Although many fears are learned, the threshold capacity to fear is part of human nature, a subconscious instinct, which, like desire, does not lend itself to moral judgment; it’s simply an extricable component of the reality of our lived experience.
Fear is our response to a stimulus occurring in the present or in anticipation or expectation of a future threat perceived as a risk. The fear response arises from the perception of danger leading to a confrontation with or escape from or avoiding the threat, also known as the fight-or-flight response, which in extreme cases of horror and terror can be a freeze response or paralysis.
Fear is visceral and instinctual, hard coded into our DNA, predates human consciousness, and results from an external stimulus, not a character flaw. The survival instinct originates in the most primal parts of the brain – נפש בהמית.
This is a complete defense of feeling our fears.
But more powerfully, the greats experienced fear too, as testified to by the Torah and our prophets, which ought to demolish any misguided self-righteous attempts at invalidating fear.
Fear is not a negative emotion; it is not something we should avoid associating with our great ancestors. Fear is a human emotion, and our great ancestors felt fear and responded to those fears in ways we can learn from it.
When God promises Avraham a grand future, Avraham wonders what God is talking about, because as a childless older man, he naturally experiences doubt, fear and insecurity about the future – מַה־תִּתֶּן־לִי / בַּמָּה אֵדַע כִּי אִירָשֶׁנָּה. As beings bound by time, everyone worries about the future.
When Yakov and his family finally escape Lavan’s clutches, they are intercepted on the run by Esau with 400 warriors, and Yakov is afraid – וַיִּירָא יַעֲקֹב מְאֹד. He has good reason to be afraid – he can send gifts, give weapons to children, and send half the family a day ahead, but he understands the imminent reality that his family might get massacred – הַצִּילֵנִי נָא מִיַּד אָחִי מִיַּד עֵשָׂו כִּי־יָרֵא אָנֹכִי אֹתוֹ פֶּן־יָבוֹא וְהִכַּנִי אֵם עַל־בָּנִים.
When Yosef frames his brothers as part of his ruse to see if they regret his abduction and trafficking, they express fear when they begin to realize that they are entangled with a powerful person who poses a serious threat to them – וַיֵּצֵא לִבָּם וַיֶּחֶרְדוּ אִישׁ אֶל־אָחִיו.
When the young Moshe steps beyond the palace life of his childhood into the world of his people’s suffering, he steps in to save someone from an oppressive Egyptian officer, killing the Egyptian. Realizing that he has crossed the point of no return, siding himself against the extremely powerful Egyptian government with no support, Moshe feels afraid – וַיִּירָא מֹשֶׁה וַיֹּאמַר אָכֵן נוֹדַע הַדָּבָר.
When Mordechai sends word to Esther about the new legislation authorizing the genocide of the Jewish People, he tells Esther to intervene and go to the king. But Esther doesn’t go right away; she responds that going to the king without summons is a death sentence. She is afraid to risk her life, and Mordechai must persuade her to overcome those fears to save the Jewish People.
Let there be no doubt that we are talking about giants here, the greatest of greats, heroes of heroes. And they felt fears we can easily recognize as familiar.
There’s a story about a great scholar who went with his young family to visit his father, the sage of their generation. The scholar was up studying in the night by candlelight, and at three in the morning, the sage walks into the room holding his screaming grandson and asks the scholar what he thinks he’s been doing — studying, obviously! Said the sage to his scholarly son, don’t be so religious that you can no longer hear a crying child.
It is cruel, not to mention incredibly self-destructive, to idealize a lack of fear.
As one great writer had a child put ask his father, can a man still be brave if he’s afraid? With piercing clarity, the father tells his son that it is the only time a man can be brave.
Toxic masculinity is a cultural pressure that says men shouldn’t cry or get scared; our Torah says they do.
As Fred Rogers taught, anything human is mentionable, and the mentionable can become more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they can become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary.
A core part of the Jewish mission is the pursuit of wholeness – תמימות / שלימות. It is an act of psychic violence to kill off the emotional parts of another, or in the case of yourself, self-mutilation. When you cut away the parts of the self capable of feeling a wide range of emotional responses, people wind up disconnected from themselves and the people around them. You get broken people, who are not emotionally in tune with themselves or their surroundings, and one of their most important tasks is to reconnect with and reunite the severed parts. By definition, wholeness must be compatible with the full spectrum of human emotion.
The life of our greatest heroes was an emotional life that was visited by fear and doubt. The difference between the best of us and the rest of us is what they did about it. The Torah’s stories reassure us that we’re not alone and that our feelings are natural and normal.
Fear and faith are compatible, and they exist along the same spectrum. Faith is not blind or mindless; the Torah testifies Avraham’s faith in the middle of his doubt and insecurity – וְהֶאֱמִן בַּה’ וַיַּחְשְׁבֶהָ לּוֹ צְדָקָה.
Fear is natural, and our greats experienced fear. Moreover, fear is one of the tools the Torah uses to obtain compliance from its readers – וְחָרָה אַף־ה’ בָּכֶם וְעָצַר אֶת־הַשָּׁמַיִם וְלֹא־יִהְיֶה מָטָר וְהָאֲדָמָה לֹא תִתֵּן אֶת־יְבוּלָהּ וַאֲבַדְתֶּם מְהֵרָה מֵעַל הָאָרֶץ הַטֹּבָה אֲשֶׁר ה’ נֹתֵן לָכֶם.
In fact, fear is arguably the reason many people practice religion at all; Pascal’s wager argues that a rational person should live as though God exists, because if God does not exist, a person only loses a little luxury or pleasure, whereas if God exists, a person stands to receive infinite pain or gain in Heaven and Hell.
But, as the Abarbanel teaches, there is no contradiction between fear and faith. Faith in God cannot make a person immune to the powerful natural emotional instinct of fear. Faith means that despite those fears, you act with your highest faculties, guided by Torah, reason, and knowledge, not by fear.
What makes our greats great is that while they sometimes felt afraid, they didn’t stay afraid; the difference between feeling afraid and being afraid. They didn’t live in fear or act from a place of fear. In the high-stress moments, they felt it, but it is never mentioned again; they choose to act with confidence, faith, security, and trust that there is a divine plan.
Controlling your emotions doesn’t mean avoiding complex or difficult emotions. It means doing things with your emotions as the passenger, not the driver. When anger, fear, or sadness comes, feel it, understand it, but don’t lose it.
Avraham was right to be anxious about the future Yakov was right to be scared his family would be massacred in the morning; Moshe was right that a single man can’t resist an empire alone; Esther was right that going to the king without an invitation was a death sentence.
In more recent memory, the Jewish world of today is built on foundations laid by Holocaust survivors. These people experienced horror and terror that is unimaginable and far beyond even those who are subject matter experts. It has been said that the greatest act of faith by the Jewish People was having children after the Holocaust, trusting God with Jewish children once more.
As the Torah draws to the conclusion of its great story, Moshe hands over the reins to Yehoshua, and encourages him in front of the Jewish People, to be brave and strong in the face of fear; God tells Yehoshua the exact same thing – ‘חִזְקוּ וְאִמְצוּ אַל־תִּירְאוּ וְאַל־תַּעַרְצוּ מִפְּנֵיהֶם כִּי ה אֱלֹקיךָ הוּא הַהֹלֵךְ עִמָּךְ לֹא יַרְפְּךָ וְלֹא יַעַזְבֶךָּ / לֹא תִירָא וְלֹא תֵחָת / וַיְצַו אֶת־יְהוֹשֻׁעַ בִּן־נוּן וַיֹּאמֶר חֲזַק וֶאֱמָץ כִּי אַתָּה תָּבִיא אֶת־בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶל־הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר־נִשְׁבַּעְתִּי לָהֶם וְאָנֹכִי אֶהְיֶה עִמָּךְ.
When you’re afraid, it means you take a threat seriously. It’s pointless to try to stop feeling nervous. Instead, like our heroes, recognize it for what it is, a call to harness all your faculties on the task at hand. Like pain, worry when you don’t feel it.
Judaism and the Torah are situated in the world of action. We bear the timeless and consistent legacy of people who faced their fears and acted with boldness and hope, who felt scared in their darkness yet persisted until the light.
Our great ancestors took action with the hope that things would work out, but not with any knowledge or certainty. As our sages point out, they are often afraid of their own sins and shortcomings. Their extraordinary acts of faith look like people who feel afraid but do their best to bring about a better outcome, which is well within our reach.
Courage is not the absence of fear but the triumph over it.