More Than Just Being Scared
Let’s be honest. The phrase 'fear of the Lord' can land on the modern ear with a thud. For someone walking through a valley of pain, anxiety, or loneliness, the idea of adding fear of God to the list feels like the last thing you need. We associate fear with what we run from, not what we run to. But the Bible declares, 'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge: but fools despise wisdom and instruction' (Proverbs 1:7). If this fear is the very starting line for wisdom, then it must be something entirely different from the cowering terror we imagine. It’s not the fear of a slave for a cruel master; it’s the breathtaking awe of a child standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon for the first time. It is the overwhelming sense of smallness in the face of infinite majesty, holiness, and love.
This is the kind of reverence that silences the other voices. It’s a holy hush that falls over the soul when you truly perceive who God is. We see a stunning picture of this in the home of Simon the leper. As Jesus sat at the table, a woman came in with an alabaster box of precious ointment. She broke it and poured it on His head. The room immediately filled with indignation. Voices of logic and practicality started murmuring, 'Why was this waste of the ointment made? For it might have been sold… and have been given to the poor.' They saw a financial miscalculation. She saw the Son of God. Her reverence for God gave her a clarity the others lacked. Her 'fear of the Lord' wasn't paralysis; it was the very thing that propelled her into an act of extravagant, costly worship.
She didn’t ask for permission. She didn’t conduct a cost-benefit analysis. Her reverence for the One in her presence overrode every other consideration—social status, financial sense, and the judgment of others. And Jesus, the object of her worship, defended her. He saw her heart. He understood that her act wasn't about the ointment; it was about her recognition of His worth. This is the beginning of wisdom: seeing Jesus for who He truly is and responding with everything you are and everything you have. It's the moment your priorities are radically reordered by His presence.
And Jesus said, Let her alone; why trouble ye her? she hath wrought a good work on me. ... She hath done what she could: she is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying. Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, this also that she hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her.— Mark 14:6, 8-9, KJV
The Posture of a Surrendered Heart
This reverence for God is not a fleeting emotion that strikes like lightning and then disappears. It is a cultivated posture of the heart. It’s a way of orienting your entire life toward Him. Think of Simeon and Anna in the temple. They didn't just stumble upon the infant Jesus; their whole lives had been a preparation for that single, holy moment. Anna 'departed not from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers night and day.' Her life was a constant, steady gaze toward God, waiting with reverent expectation. When Joseph and Mary brought the baby Jesus into the temple, Simeon and Anna didn't see just a child. They saw salvation. They saw 'a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.' Their reverence, nurtured over decades of devotion, allowed them to recognize God when He showed up in the most unexpected package.
Now, contrast that with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus after the crucifixion. They were walking and talking *with the resurrected Jesus*, yet 'their eyes were holden that they should not know him.' Their hearts were so clouded by their own grief, their own expectations of what the Messiah should have been, that they were blind to the miracle right in front of them. They could recount the facts—'Jesus of Nazareth, which was a prophet mighty in deed and word'—but they had lost the awe. Their disappointment had eclipsed their reverence. This is a warning for us. We can know all the right things about God, but if we lose that heart-posture of reverence, we can walk right beside Him and never truly see Him. The fear of the Lord keeps our spiritual eyes open, allowing us to perceive His presence even in the midst of our confusion and sorrow.
And Simeon blessed them, and said unto Mary his mother, Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against; (Yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also,) that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.— Luke 2:34-35, KJV
The Beginning of Everything
So why is this reverence the 'beginning' of all knowledge and wisdom? Because until we get our view of God right, we will get everything else wrong. Our perspective on our problems, our purpose, our relationships, and our own identity is fundamentally skewed until God is in His rightful place. Jesus confronted this very issue with the religious leaders of His day. They were so confident in their own knowledge and righteousness that they were completely blind to the God standing before them. He told them plainly, 'Ye are from beneath; I am from above: ye are of this world; I am not of this world.'
Their lack of reverence wasn't an intellectual problem; it was a spiritual one. They couldn't 'fear' Him properly because they refused to see Him properly. And Jesus reveals the eternal weight of this choice: 'I said therefore unto you, that ye shall die in your sins: for if ye believe not that I am he, ye shall die in your sins.' This isn't a threat spoken in anger. This is the most loving diagnosis from the Great Physician. He is telling them, and us, that a right view of Him—a reverent belief in His divine identity—is the only antidote to the terminal disease of sin. The fear of the Lord is understanding the stakes. It's recognizing that He is not one of many options; He is the only way.
This is where reverence becomes liberation. When you truly grasp the holiness, power, and authority of God, the other fears in your life begin to shrink. The fear of what people think, the fear of failure, the fear of the future, the fear of death—all of it is put in its proper perspective. A holy reverence for God doesn't add to your burdens; it lifts them. It anchors your soul to the one constant in the universe, the One who holds all things together. It is the beginning of wisdom because it is the end of trying to be your own god. It is the start of a life built not on the shifting sand of your own understanding, but on the solid rock of who He is.
Then said Jesus unto them, When ye have lifted up the Son of man, then shall ye know that I am he, and that I do nothing of myself; but as my Father hath taught me, I speak these things. And he that sent me is with me: the Father hath not left me alone; for I do always those things that please him.— John 8:28-29, KJV
The fear of the Lord is not a cowering dread that pushes you away from God, but a beautiful, awe-filled surrender that draws you near. It is the posture of the woman anointing His feet, the watchfulness of Anna in the temple, and the moment of belief when you finally understand who Jesus is. It is the quiet confidence that the God of the universe is not only in control, but He is also for you. This reverence is not something to run from; it is the very foundation that allows you to stand firm, the very light that gives you wisdom, and the very love that calls you home.