‘While he was still speaking, there came from the ruler’s house some who said, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?” But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.”’
Mark 5:35-36
If there was one phrase that, if remembered every day, every moment, and in every scenario, would completely transform your life, it would be this:
Do not fear, only believe.
When I was growing up, fear was a big part of my life. My friendship group at school had been complicated, with days of inclusion and friendship often being inexplicably flipped to whispers and side-eyes and exclusion. Some days I joined in with the other kids, and on other days, for reasons that maybe only now I’ve begun to understand, I’d wander the playground alone.
In all this, fear grew strong.
Fear of saying the wrong thing. Fear of doing the wrong thing. Fear of having the wrong shoes or the wrong coat or the wrong haircut. Fear of making the joke that wasn’t funny. Fear that a small mistake could be punished by a fortnight of isolation.
Playground stuff. But most of us know not to trivialise the challenges of the playground. The playground, as all environments are, is a formative environment.
A few decades on, fear still hangs around. It crops up in my life and ministry, with money or with pressures on time. It pops in when facing challenges or conflict or criticism, and it’s always a travelling companion to comparison.
Do not fear, only believe.
I cannot imagine the emotional state of Jairus and his wife in the moment Jesus says this. I have a twelve year old daughter. There is no scenario that I can imagine that would take me deeper into pain and despair than the situation these two parents are in.
Do not fear, only believe.
It’s almost impossible for us to imagine the social exclusion of this woman, with continual bleeding for twelve long years. Twelve years of physical fatigue, for sure, but, in a Jewish context where this meant ritual impurity, this also meant twelve years of nobody wanting to be even close to her. To speak with her. To touch her.
Do not fear, only believe.
What are Jesus’ words? Are they telling us something impossible? Are they emotional denial, flippant with the pain He’s walking amongst, and callous in their simplicity?
Is He asking them not to feel?
Look at what is required of these people.
For Jairus and his wife, I don’t get the impression that Jesus was asking them not to feel the feelings that they were undoubtedly so deeply in. But it was simply this: to let Jesus into their daughter’s bedroom. To keep on “troubling the teacher.” To let Him into the place of pain. To not act in accord with the fear, but to act in accord with belief.
For the woman who was bleeding, it wasn’t to stop feeling the anguish and grief and pain and fatigue. It was simply this; to get close enough to touch Him. To reach out to Him. To get in His way. To not act in accord with her fear, but to act in accord with belief.
My journey with fear and courage has learned this, time after time after time. That fear is not a feeling that requires our obedience. Rather, fear presents us with a choice: act in accord with the fear, or take courage, and believe. Run away or lean in. Shut up or speak up. Shut the door or keep on troubling the teacher. Meekly go home, or push through those crowds until you touch the hem of His garment.
Do not fear, only believe.
There is a greater way than your fear tells you to live in. You have a choice. And He invites you to the adventures that lie on the other side of fear. They are your birthright, they are your calling, and they are the place where His goodness and life establishes you in the healing and utter joy of being a child of God.
Today, children of God, let this then mark our every decision.
Do not fear, only believe.
Reflect:
Where do I feel fear?
What would it look like to act in accord with the fear?
What would it look like to act in accord with belief?
Pray:
Loving Father,
I’ve got these places where I feel fear.
I hold them here before you now.
When it feels overwhelming,
Lord,
Would you speak your words to me:
Do not fear, only believe.
Would you show me the way of courage and faith,
Giving me the strength to walk in it.
Would you teach me that your path for me
Always treads above fear,
Into the expansive world of your utter love.
Raise me up again,
Father God,
Into fearless walking,
And resilient belief,
In this day,
And all my days.
In Jesus’ Name
Amen
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
Judges 17-19 | Psalm 52