Have you heard it said that the phrases, “do not be afraid” or “fear not,” appears throughout the Bible more than 80 times? Of course, that number varies depending on who you ask and which translation you read. But the sheer repetition drives home an undeniable truth: Scripture relentlessly emphasizes fear and our need to view it correctly — biblically. If this is woven so deeply into the text of God’s word, does that not signal severe significance?
Let’s unpack what fear does to us. Psychologically, it hijacks our brains, thrusting us into “fight-or-flight” mode. As our minds scramble to assess the threat, our bodies react with pounding hearts and quickening breath. For some, fear acts like a paralyzing fog, dulling our senses until we can barely hear, see, feel, or think straight. Science has exhaustively mapped these mental and physical tolls. But there’s a deeper layer we must confront: What happens to us spiritually when fear takes hold?
Well, just as fear cripples us physically and mentally, it devastates our spiritual vitality. It blinds us to God’s presence, as if a veil covers our eyes. It deafens us to His voice, muffling the whispers of comfort and guidance. Hope slips from our grasp like a fading sensation. Our thoughts? They drift far from our Savior, lost in the chaos of our own panic. Fear doesn’t just cause us to stumble — it wounds us, cutting deeper than we often dare to admit.
Sometimes, fear creeps in quietly. Other times, it storms the gates of our souls with unrelenting fury. No matter its method, fear’s hold is most firm when we take our eyes off God and fix them on lesser things. It thrives most viciously when we consider our sovereign Lord least. When our gaze is captured by the clamoring woes and suffocating worries of this fallen world, we will inevitably end up in a distracted, vulnerable state. Consequently, this flings open the door to the enemy’s lies that God’s promises falter and that His grip is capable of weakening. The fear of man, for instance, has a way of paralyzing us with the opinions of dust, thus clouding our vision of the decrees of the Eternal.
An outward glance at the chaos around us — raging nations, crumbling systems, fleeting pleasures — or an inward glare at our own frail hearts — riddled with sin, doubt, and inadequacy — offers no armor for the fight. These are not the battlements of victory, but the quicksand of despair. Without the unshakable truth of God, we’re defenseless against the relentless assault of sin, the gnawing teeth of doubt, and the dark abyss of hopelessness. Fear itself starts to look victorious.
Perhaps it’s clear why we as Christians can’t allow ourselves to trip in fear. Rather, it is pivotal to remember, at all times, that we are ultimately held by God’s grace — unearned, undeserved, unbreakable. Our fears may seem big, but our God is infinitely bigger.
You see, when fear appears to have conquered, it’s crucial to recall we are “more than conquerors through Him who loved us” (Romans 8:37). When fear seems unyielding, we remember that “perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18a). When the weight of our fear begins to feel like too much to bear, we turn to Christ and cast them on Him, just as Scripture calls us to do (1 Peter 5:7). The Bible couldn’t be clearer where our hope, rest, and security are found: “When the cares of my heart are many, Your consolations cheer my soul” (Psalm 94:19). “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9). “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4). “The Lord is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me?” (Psalm 118:6).
The 17th century theologian John Owen once said, “The steadfastness of God’s love is the ground of our assurance.” It’s true, isn’t it? When we know, and genuinely believe, that our trials cannot sever us from God’s grip, fear loses its power. And this is exactly the message of Romans 8:38-39: “For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
And history and Scripture alike testify that God’s people can defy fear when they cling to His promises. Jack Phillips, the Colorado cake artist, faced a brutal political onslaught for refusing to bake a wedding cake for a same-sex couple — legal battles, public scorn, unrelenting pressure. Yet his faith in God didn’t waver; it burned fierce. His hope surged, rooted in Christ, proving fear crumbles when faith stands firm.
Consider Andrew Brunson, special advisor for Religious Freedom at Family Research Council. After over two decades of ministry in Turkey, he found himself suddenly imprisoned for two grueling years because of his faith. Speak with him, and he’ll be the first to tell you that he was scared. For all he knew, he could have died in that prison — never seeing his wife, family, friends, or freedom again on this side of the grave. However, he’ll also tell you that it was one promise he recalled time and again until he was eventually released, and it was that God is faithful. That alone was enough to get him through.
But just imagine a world in which all the members of Congress, ministries, missionaries, and Christians worldwide who have stood firm in their faith instead caved into fear and crumbled under pressure. Envision a nightmare where believers lie flattened, trampled into silence by a ruthless opposition, and we — cowering in the shadows — let it happen without a fight. Imagine if, at the faintest glimmer of trouble, those entrusted with the Good News didn’t charge into the fray but shrank back. If we’re being honest, many of us are tempted to cower; to throw in the towel; to believe we aren’t capable of persevering.
But herein lies the glory: it is not our strength, but God’s, that allows us to prevail.
Fear holds no genuine power over those in Christ, and it’s not because of what we have done, what we can do, or who we are. Rather, fear lies vanquished at the feet of Christ Himself. We can be courageous, because Christ is our shield, and He said no weapon fashioned against us will prosper (Isaiah 54:17). We have no reason to give up, because Christ has secured for us an eternal hope through His death and resurrection. We can persevere, because it’s God Himself who grips us fast, vowing with divine certainty to never leave or forsake us.
The beauty lies in the truth that no matter how fierce fear seems, it pales in comparison to the majesty, sovereignty, and magnitude of our loving, caring, gracious, merciful Father, Friend, and Fortress. In Him, we walk boldly. Not because we’re fearless in ourselves, but because the God who holds us is greater than all our fears. And even if we do stumble from time to time, because we’re not immune to fear, we rest in the fact that Christ journeys with us at every turn. He picks us up, guides us through the floods and the fires, and forges us anew along the way.
“[D]id you ever walk out upon that lonely desert island upon which you were wrecked and say, ‘I am alone — alone — ALONE — nobody was ever here before me’?” asked the late pastor C.H. Spurgeon. “And did you suddenly pull up short as you noticed, in the sand, the footprints of a man?” He continued:
“I remember right well passing through that experience — and when I looked, lo, it was not merely the footprints of a man that I saw, but I thought I knew whose feet had left those imprints. They were the marks of One who had been crucified, for there was the print of the nails. So I thought to myself, ‘If He has been here, it is no longer a desert island. As His blessed feet once trod this wilderness-way, it blossoms now like the rose and it becomes to my troubled spirit as a very garden of the Lord!’”
Fear may rage, but Your God reigns. So stand firm, believer, and fix your eyes on Christ. Let fear tremble before the One who has already overcome. Grace holds you, and it will never let you go.
Sarah Holliday is a reporter at The Washington Stand.