Making a More Meaningful Marinara
(A Recipe for Wisdom)
Step One: Cleaning Your Counters
(Or Getting Your Head on Right)
The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom.
Prov. 9:10
When I was young, I was often a little mystified of why in the world God, Who wanted us to love Him, also wanted us to fear Him. When I thought of it, I considered that it was the last thing in the world that I would want of a loved one. Of course, part of my error was categorical, that is to say I was placing myself in the same category as God. But God is not a person and the love He shares with we created beings is wholly different than my love for a fellow creature.
The other part of my error—the part we’ll be talking about today, in fact—was understanding (or in my case, my misunderstanding of) fear.
So, let’s take a good look at the fear of the Lord: the what, the how, and the why.
The What of Fear
Or, Beyond Terror: The True Meaning of Godly Fear
Usually, when we speak of fear, we are referring to the sort of terror or dread we feel when we are afraid. To put a finer point on it, this apprehension is almost always of enduring a hardship: discomfort, pain, death or dismemberment on a physical or emotional scale. When it comes to the fear of the Lord, however, that definition is only partially sufficient. True, there is an element of being afraid that comes with the fear of the Lord, He is GOD after all and all that entails (Matt. 10:28b). However, when it comes to God and our fear, this particular concern is only a portion of what we are talking about.
The word that is used in the original languages refers not only to a sort of natural apprehension or terror or dread, but also reverent regard, respect, wonderment. Perhaps a more clarifying word would be awe. For a good mental picture describing awe, I’ll let C.S. Lewis explain:
“Suppose you were told there was a tiger in the next room: you would know that you were in danger and would probably feel fear. But if you were told “There is a ghost in the next room”, and believed it, you would feel, indeed, what is often called fear, but of a different kind. It would not be based on the knowledge of danger, for no one is primarily afraid of what a ghost may do to him, but of the mere fact that it is a ghost. … Now suppose that you were told simply “There is a mighty spirit in the room”, and believed it. Your feelings would then be even less like the mere fear of danger: but the disturbance would be profound. You would feel wonder and a certain shrinking—a sense of inadequacy to cope with such a visitant and of prostration before it… This feeling may be described as awe…” (C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain)
The most fascinating thing about being awestruck is how it overwhelms. A person simply cannot be whelmed and awed at the same time. For the moment you encounter something that inspires true awe is the moment you find yourself at the end of yourself. You see something so great and grand that you are not only aware of its immensity, but your own lack. You are often beyond explanation or sense for the grandness that is before you. It is a glory, the understanding of which you cannot contain. In our modern, somewhat cynical age, awe is something I think we encounter too rarely. Moments that take our breath away and leave us bereft of speech, bewitched, bothered, and bewildered are not particularly common. In our lives, we may encounter true earthly awe maybe a dozen times.
And God tells us that we cannot even begin to be wise unless we make this sort of respectful, terrified awe of Him part of our lives. “Well,” you may say, “that’s all very well and good, but God does not call us to feel things; He calls us to do things. Feelings, after all, are mercurial, which is to say they shift constantly up and down, changing with even the slightest of differences in our circumstances: from an illness, a tragedy, to a bad night’s sleep. We are, in fact, told to act in spite of our feelings (Eph. 4:26 being a great example).”
You are quite correct, imaginary person I just made up to answer. God does not call us to the feelings, but to the doings. And, because God has told us that we are to fear Him, it must mean two things: 1) it is not entirely an emotion (though it may inspire an emotion); and 2) it must be possible to evoke this state of wonderment. Now, the question becomes how do we get to this awe/fear state?
The How of Fear
Or, Approaching Awe: Realizing Our Own Lack in Comparison to His Greatness
And if anyone thinks that he knows anything, he knows nothing yet as he ought to know.
- I Cor. 8:2
As the verse says, if anyone thinks he knows, he does not know, or, to put it another way, the beginning of really knowing something is realizing that you don’t know anything. Now before you accuse me of being cheeky, understand that I am not saying you do not technically know anything. I’m sure you know some things, but at the bottom, of everything, there is an ignorance.
Consider: you are reading right now. You know that. But what does that mean? Do you know exactly how the light hits your eyes, translates that information to your brain, the neurons that fire across that organ inside of your skull at the volition of your will? Beyond that how does your soul consider that which is read and accept or reject ideas?
Our world, our very existence, though material, is stitched together with threads of infinity. The realm of spirit is both near and far and we do not understand even the slightest bit of what is actually going on around us at any given moment from the various micro-organisms to the spiritual battles being fought possibly before our very blind eyes. The world is a much grander place than we give it credit for and reality is substantially more dense than we could even dream. How much moreso the God Who created it all?
As stated before, what God is telling us to do when He calls on us to fear Him is not evoke feelings. What God is telling us to do, rather, is to have the correct mindset and understanding, to come to the particular realization of Who He is, as much as we are capable. He calls on us to gain proper perspective, because, in truth, if we are at all correctly thinking about God, we will shortly realize we have come to the edge of infinity.
And so, when you feel yourself being flippant or dismissive or even careless with God, that is the moment that you should stop, and change your mind. Consider the actual truth of this world: all that you do not know, your own smallness, His greatness. When your mind opens to understanding the infinite that you will never understand, is when you are at the cusp of this fear.
It is not just a feeling that God is calling you to, though feelings will come, it is a realization. He is calling you to realize what it really means when you call Him God, when you acknowledge that He is maker, ruler, provider of all. You needn’t be cowering in a heap, though sometimes your skin may shudder, but it is the mental bowing that is required. The acknowledgement of all that you proclaim of what you know and, more importantly, what you do not. This is how we can evoke the fear that is required, not by trying inspire feelings, but in actually thinking about God and all that He is, as He is, in all of the glory that your mind can comprehend, knowing that you’re still nowhere near capturing it.
So, why is it important that we have this trembling of soul, this quivering bafflement of spirit? Honestly, it sounds a little bit unsettling. And, in truth, it is. It is uncomfortable not to be self-assured that you know the answer in every situation. The knowledge that you might not know, that you may be incorrect and have to reassess, it’s not at all comforting. So why would God want that for us? Why would He place wisdom behind that particular door?
The Why of Fear
Or, A Cup’s Capacity: Making Room for God
You cannot fill a cup that is already full.
- Ryutan
There was an old master tea maker in a village. One day, a young scholar came to his tea house to seek knowledge on tea making. The young man had never had tea before, much less made any, but he had read extensively on the subject. The old tea maker set two cups of tea before them and the conversation began. The youth spent the better part of an hour expounding on the subject of tea making. The elder quietly sipped his tea and listened. Finally, he moved and the youth immediately became quiet and attentive. The old master picked up a teapot. “In here,” he said indicating the piping hot pot, “is all of the wisdom and knowledge on tea making I have to offer.” He moved the pot close as if to pour into the young man’s cup, which he had not touched during his monologue. “Ah, it is a shame,” he said sadly. “I cannot give it to you.” “Why?” asked the scholar, alarmed. The master replied simply, “Your cup is full.”
When we truly fear the Lord, we tend to feel, as Mr. Lewis put it in the earlier quotation regarding awe, a certain shrinking and inadequacy. We suddenly know and understand that we do not know everything. We are a little bit confused and humbled, knowing that not only do we not understand, but that we cannot understand.
And that, I think is the whole point. It is there, in that small state, that open wonderment that wisdom can pour into you. When you are humble enough to refrain from viewing the world through your thoughts and your ideas, but instead realizing that, for all you think you know, there is One Who knows more. The humility in asking, ‘What does God say?’ and acknowledging that, whatever He says is correct, because He is God. In this humble, quiet deference of your will, you can begin to learn.
And it is only then, when we know that we do not know that we can begin to know things. There, in that place, is the beginning of wisdom.