A Third Sort of Fear of God

When I am told not to be terrified of God, but rather reverence Him, I just chuckle and shake my head.  Clearly those who say such things have never really met God face to face.  To do so is to need to change ones pants.  But until today, I had only considered those two options.  Today, I have discovered a third sort of fear of God.  It's not an earth-shattering discovery, it was there all along, and some might consider it in one of the two categories of either reverence or terror.  I discovered it in Mark 10:32.  After Jesus has kicked out another prop of their assumptions by claiming it was tough for the rich to get into His Kingdom, He leads them on the road to Jerusalem, and the ones who witnessed this are amazed, and the ones following Him are afraid.

This third fear is one that comes as the realization strikes home that Jesus is not Who I assumed He was.  He has refused to fit my assumptions, my paradigm, my desires for Who He should be, my underlying interpretive grid through which I filter Scripture and life events, basically everything that is of me and my ability to reason Him into a manageable box or framework (like this whole Trinity thing).  This fear is the result of the fracturing and collapse of all that rotten wood, bailing wire, and duct tape I had been using as a container for the Maker of the universe.  When I state it that way, the stupidity of the thing is really obvious, but in the process of constructing the facade, it seemed reasonable to have some "handles" to grasp in understanding this God loving me and calling me into a relationship with Him.  It made the relationship a bit safer to accept and walk into.

And then, with a shutter and crash, the facade came down, and out stepped this Person for whom I was not ready.  Scripture painted a word picture of some Person, and as the line began to form, my paradigm began to crumble.  The Shining One of Bronze robed in white, the One seated on a throne of crystal, The One surrounded by terrifying winged creatures with tongs and burning coals, was hard enough to accept.  But then He pours out wrath on His people and destroys Jerusalem with pagans, who raze it for 40 days committing atrocities against the inhabitants.  Yet this is after over 400 years of warning, so even in the abundance of wrath is patience.  This One kills, destroys, punishes, and liberates.  Yet in the liberation He does not restore the former glory, but keeps those contained in a small, off-the-beaten-path city-state of Judah.  And then, after strife with invaders once again, after self-rule, and then the invitation to the Romans to throw off the native rule, in the midst of the frustration and chafing with that choice, this same God then breaks into the history of His human creatures, entering time and space to live, act, and, eventually, die.  To do so is weird, but to do so to make it possible for those creatures to relate to Him is weirder.  What problem does the slaying of Your One and Only Son fix?

I thought it paid the debt for my sin, which, in part, it did.  I thought it appeased the wrath of God stacked against me, which, in part, it did.  I thought that, with the suffering and death of Jesus, I could now relate to God, which, in part, is true.  But even combining all these truths together does not exactly get the whole picture of what happened, what Jesus was heading into on that road to Jerusalem.  Why were these guys afraid.  He had just challenged a rich guy to give it all up and follow Him (which was an offer He did not make very often), and that rocked their world view, and then He heads to Jerusalem, the home of those trying to kill Him.  He is getting rid of those who would help and be influential in a conflict instead of gathering them together.  He is heads off to Jerusalem as if He is anxious and in a hurry to get into that conflict they know is coming.  What is up with this guy?  Is He crazy?  Is He going to get us killed?  So, they follow, but with fear and some reservations.  This is the third fear.

This fear may not last long, only until the false props and facade are completely gone; just in time for Him to begin work on another set of props and facade.  I read four accounts of His death, and when I get to number four, the questions from the other three are answered in ways that crumble my own props and facade.  He goes to His captors, and even though they fall over He gets everyone up and moving; He has a date with a destiny no one understands but Him, and He will not be late.  He goes, leading those who are to lead Him away.  He goes willingly, even anxiously, in a hurry to get into it.  I read of the One in the garden Who prays to have the cup pass from Him, but not His will, but the Father's.  I read this and wonder what that was about, what was going on in Him, hearing sermons stating one thing or another, making it only crystal clear that no one really understands that.  And then, in John, He goes out to them, He faces them, and they fall back, to the ground.  These are not the actions of One who is afraid or unsure.  What was happening there in the garden before that day of His torture and execution?  I am afraid, because what I mean when I say those words, please let this cup pass from me, are not what He means.  I am afraid because this One does not fit my understanding of how things work, what my Master wants, nor Who my Master even is.  I am afraid because He heads into the most horrific experience I can imagine as if He is looking forward to it.

What is the wrath of God poured out on me?  Isn't it eternal separation from Him in the fires of Hell?  Is it the flames or the separation that make up the real punishment?  Is it the distance from that which has been permeated by the Maker of the Universe which truly constitutes Hell?  If so, then what was Jesus running headlong into?  Was it fire or something much more devastating?  Could it have been something the likes of which I cannot wrap my mind around?  Did this quality of God which is impossible to explain change on the cross of the execution of God?  Did something happen that cannot be accepted by my paradigms, props, and facades around God?  The person I fear suffered my well-earned wrath so I wouldn't have to.  And that wrath which was suffered separated the One who was the One and Only Son of God, Part 2 of the Trinity, the Agent of Creation, the Bright and Morning Star, Prince of Peace, King of Kings from His Father.  The earth shook, the ground split open, graves gave up their dead, and the separating veil in the temple was torn in two.  But while all that was pretty impressive, what really happened was not seen, nor felt by anyone but the Master of the universe, Maker of stars and galaxies.  He alone felt and suffered the effects of that wrathful event.

Yeah, I fear, and my assumptions about God are a shambles.  I had a comfortable set of handles to understand my Master, and He shattered them.  He refuses to do what I expect.  I fear because I know that I truly do not, nor cannot know Him.  He will never fit my frame-work.  He will never conform to my level of  understanding.  I know that intellectually, but discovering it experientially is shocking and terrifying.  It is the third fear, somewhere between reverence and terror.  This third fear lies low, and simmers in the depths of my mind, just out of reach of conscious reason, the necessary pieces for understanding are too few.  And so I just endure the problem of this fear until He finishes removing the debris of my former understanding.  This is not what I had expected while waiting, it's an odd form of worship, and it's not comfortable to walk about before One Whom I fear without understanding.