The unaffordable cost of fear

Over the past few years, especially these past 12 months, fear has taken up too much space in our hearts.

For many Jews, it’s fear of antisemites. Fear of showing our Judaism too publicly. Fear of sickening political actors pandering to the haters in society. Fear of the future. Fear of simply being Jewish, or supporting Jews.

We all understand the causes and feelings that are leading to fear. Even those living under a rock are aware of the madness of our times. No-one in our community needs a reminder of what’s happening.

And yet, despite the magnetism and logic of fear, we cannot afford it. We can’t afford to give up more of our emotional real estate to fear. Fear is way too expensive for our health – the worst squatter ever.

Just think about how much fear we have encountered in recent years. Whether it was the COVID-19 pandemic and the tremendous fear that it brought – “Don’t visit gran; you might kill her.” The future of this country – “I’m telling you, rabbi, I used to be an optimist just like you, but now I’ve given up on this country. I’m telling you, it has three years left!”. Corruption. Potholes. Mental health. Leftism. And a million other legitimate reasons for fear. I’m done.

I need to generate a healthier, more value-based emotional response to life’s curveballs.

We have given this monster – fear – way too much power over us and our decision-making – how to live, where to live, who to live with, what to study, which jobs to pursue, and which investments to make. Fear often dictates the bottom line.

“Hide under your pillow and feel sorry for yourself and victimised”, says fear.

Honestly, I’m tired. I’m tired of living with so much hesitancy. I’m tired of being preached to by fear-addicts about how their way of life is more reasonable and justified. “See, the worst-case scenario can take place!” Yes, it does, unfortunately. Let’s be honest, it’s never what you expected. And fear does nothing to mitigate it, so why the fear?

I’m tired of the narrative that says that if life isn’t perfect, then it’s terrible – “I signed up for paradise, and I’ll take nothing less, therefore I’m scared of this life.” I’m tired of the fantasy that if we are fearful enough, we can protect ourselves from whatever destiny G-d has for us. I’m tired of over-protecting my kids. Yes, there’s a difference between protecting and over-protecting our children. It’s the difference between children who will blossom and children who will cower.

I want to live. I want my kids to live. I want to believe that the best days of our lives, community, and homeland are ahead of us. I want to believe that my kids will earn a good living no matter where they live, no matter how many distinctions they get in matric, and which university they get into – or not. I want to believe that G-d, who takes care of the smallest ant, can figure out a way to take care of and protect me and my children, my community, my nation, and decent people all over the world.

I want to live in a world where, no matter how much ugliness exists in the ignoble hearts of haters and losers, I’ll never hand over my worldview to the fear-based paradigm that so many people willingly adopt as their weltanschauung (view of life).

I want my kids to have a smile on their face, a jump in their step, and a twinkle in their eye. Yes, I don’t want them to be too naïve and gullible – the world has risks they must be aware of and try to protect themselves from – but I also want them to be happy, curious, hopeful, innocent, and pure. They don’t need to carry the burden of adults’ paranoia, fears, and shattered dreams. It’s not their burden to carry. And hopefully, they will never accept its unbearable burden.

I don’t want sugar or fear in their diet. They need to fly, and achieve the purpose G-d created them for. Let my fears and worries not hinder and stilt their growth spurt.

That’s one of the reasons that believing in Hashem is so transformative. If you wholeheartedly believe that there’s a master of the world who runs this world and who you can speak to directly, then why fear? Yes, we talk to G-d directly, multiple times a day – “Baruch atah Hashem” (Blessed are you, dear G-d) talking directly with the Creator with every cup of water I drink and every time I use the bathroom.

King David writes in Tehillim 23, “Even when I walk in the valley of the deepest darkness, I will fear no harm. for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.” What’s the point of believing in G-d if you don’t derive one of its blessed benefits of living with serenity? What a waste of faith! Faith breeds serenity.

Think about it, a child feels safe in their parents’ hands. Even when the parent must do something the child doesn’t like, like take them for an injection, admonish them, or even send them to bed for the 18th time that evening, the child will still love their parent. Even if they scream, “I hate you, dad!” How much more so with Hashem! I’m safe in His hands. Even when I’m being admonished or challenged by Him. I’m safe because “You are with me”.

I must do my part to be safe, cautious, and responsible, and then I’ll leave the rest to Him. That’s the trade-off of believing in G-d. I take on the responsibility of faith and observance, and in return, I get serenity, contentment, and joy.

No, this isn’t about denying the events of 7 October and the nonstop news cycle of the past year. The pain is real. The loss is real. Even the fear is real. The terror is devastating. But they won’t win. Never!

After the critical journey of validating, holding, and releasing our emotions, we are challenged to become the guides of our emotions and put our minds and values back in the driver’s seat. We do so by achieving mental clarity, articulating our morals, values, and perspectives, and recalibrating our emotions so that our feelings about life align with our values.

The more a person matures in their mind, the more their emotions realign. That’s why adults should have more control of their emotions than children. Their minds have evolved, and they have clarified their values.

Like any emotion, fear has its uses. But we have overused it, and it’s hurting us and our families. Can we try a different approach? Can we overcome the gravity of fear, and choose to uplift ourselves with faith?

To a sweet year that we will face with fortitude and faith.

• Rabbi Levi Avtzon is the rabbi of Linksfield Shul.