This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.
“There is no fear in love.”
This simple line from today’s first reading at first seems like a nice, pious thought–but then, we realize it sets before us an apparently unachievable goal. One of today’s most common names for fear is anxiety–and which of us does not feel anxiety? Must we somehow immunize ourselves against what can often be a daily, involuntary emotion in order to achieve love?
What if we were in a small boat on violent waves, like the disciples in today’s gospel? Could anyone blame us for feeling a bit panicky? Yet, Jesus says, “Take courage, it is I, do not be afraid!”
Two considerations may be helpful here. First of all, there is a chasm of difference between the sensation and emotion of anxiety, and living by anxiety. True, for those of us habituated to allowing anxiety to lead us as a rule, they can be one and the same. But if we look at the lives of the saints, we see that sometimes they feel fear, but they do not allow it to direct their judgement and their decisions. And neither should we, since we have given our lives to God and trust in His Providence to rule and guide us.
Our Lady is our best example, next to Christ Himself, of how to handle the sentiment of anxiety. When the angel Gabriel came to visit her at the Annunciation, she felt deeply troubled. She could not immediately understand the implications of what the angel was asking of her, even though she tried–and this left her disconcerted. From the description in the Gospel, it is safe to say that she was experiencing anxiety.
But Mary did not allow this sentiment to rule her–rather, she based her judgement and decisions on faith and trust in God. She explicitly went back to the root of her identity in the midst of her disorientation, stating, “I am the handmaid of the Lord.” And as such she was able to fulfill the will of the Father: “May it be done unto me according to your word.”
Contrast this mode of reacting to Gabriel’s message with that of Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, in Lk. 1:5-25–narrated in the Gospel immediately before Mary’s encounter with the angel. Zechariah essentially says, “Why should I believe you?” His anxiety leads him to seek a sure footing before he is willing to accept God’s message in faith. At this moment, Zechariah was a man who let himself be led by his anxiety. Gabriel didn’t seem to take kindly to it: “I am Gabriel, who stand before God. I was sent to speak to you and to announce to you this good news. But now you will be speechless and unable to talk until the day these things take place, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled at their proper time.”
The second consideration: When we habitually form our judgement independently from our feelings of anxiety (and sometimes this means waiting until a strong feeling of anxiety subsides), very gradually, over a long period of time, the feelings themselves lessen in strength, no longer rushing in so aggressively. They are almost like a bully who, realizing he is not getting any fun out of a particular victim, begins to leave the victim alone.
Feelings of anxiety never fully leave us. Consider even Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane: Sweating blood, so overwrought was He by the stress caused by the burden of our sin loaded upon Him, and the prospect of His impending death. But again, like Mary, He decided independently of that anxiety: “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.”
When it comes to our judgements and our decisions, what St. John tells us stands: “There is no fear in love.”
Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to help you remain in control of the impulses of your passions and emotions. Ask Him for the supernatural gift of trust, whereby your certainty of His loving, providential care governs all your decisions.
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