The Difference Between Terror and Holy Awe
Can we just talk like we've known each other all our lives? If you are anything like me, you probably grew up hearing the phrase 'fear of the Lord' and immediately felt a knot tighten in your stomach. We are human; we are wired to avoid the things we fear. When we hear that word, our minds instantly conjure up images of a demanding, distant dictator in the sky, just waiting for us to make a mistake so He can drop the hammer. But if we are really being honest with ourselves, that anxious, cowering version of faith doesn't align with the Jesus who wept at a grave or washed the dirt off His friends' feet.
The truth is, the enemy loves to hijack our spiritual vocabulary. The sermon the devil is constantly preaching to us is, 'God is dangerous, so you better keep your distance.' But Proverbs 1:7 tells us that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge. How could running away in blind terror ever be the beginning of intimacy? It can't be. What we are actually talking about here is a profound, life-altering reverence for God. It is an awe so deep, so majestic, that it stops you dead in your tracks and recalibrates your entire soul.
Look at what happens in the upper room after the resurrection. The disciples are hiding, locked away in actual, paralyzing fear of the world outside. Then Jesus steps into the room. Their immediate reaction is terror—they think they are seeing a ghost. But watch what Christ does. He doesn't capitalize on their fright to assert His dominance. He immediately de-escalates their terror to invite them into holy awe. He wants them to stand in reverence, not cower in panic. He invites them to touch His scars.
And he said unto them, Why are ye troubled? and why do thoughts arise in your hearts? Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have.— Luke 24:38-39, KJV
Losing Control to Gain Your Life
One of the greatest barriers to true reverence for God is our obsession with our own control. We live in a culture that tells us to hustle, to protect ourselves, to build our own little kingdoms where we call the shots. But true reverence requires resignation. It demands that we step off the throne of our own hearts and acknowledge that He is God and we are entirely, wonderfully not. I was praying about this message, and I realized something: it's not that we doubt God is big. Like Moses, we believe He is powerful. We just struggle to trust Him enough to let go of our own grip.
Jesus addressed this illusion of control directly when He warned His followers about the days to come. He reminded them of Lot's wife—a woman who was so attached to her old life, so afraid of what she was losing, that she looked back and lost her future. When we lack the fear of the Lord, we end up fearing absolutely everything else. We fear the economy, the opinions of others, the unpredictable future, and our past mistakes. But when you truly revere God, that massive, holy awe swallows up all your lesser anxieties.
You cannot tightly clutch your own agenda and hold onto Christ at the same time. Reverence is the open-handed surrender of your life to the One who breathed it into existence. It is the terrifying, beautiful realization that you are not the author of your story, but the Author is undeniably good. When you finally stop trying to save yourself, you find the Savior waiting to preserve you.
Remember Lot’s wife. Whosoever shall seek to save his life shall lose it; and whosoever shall lose his life shall preserve it.— Luke 17:32-33, KJV
Dead Religion vs. True Reverence
There is a dangerous counterfeit to the fear of the Lord, and it is called dead religion. You can sit in a pew every Sunday, know all the right theological terms, follow all the cultural rules, and completely lack reverence for the Almighty. The Holy Spirit brought me to Mark chapter 3 to see exactly what this looks like. Jesus walks into a synagogue and sees a man with a withered hand. The religious leaders are watching Jesus closely, but they aren't watching Him out of awe. They are watching Him to trap Him. They had the rules down perfectly, but they had absolutely no reverence.
Think about the sheer tragedy of that moment. The Creator of the universe is standing in their midst, ready to restore a broken man, and their hearts are so calloused that they care more about a Sabbath technicality than the Savior's miracle. Jesus looked at them with anger, deeply grieved by the hardness of their hearts. This is what happens when we replace the fear of the Lord with the fear of losing our own religious status. We become critics of the move of God instead of participants in it.
True reverence for God melts a hard heart. It makes us hyper-aware of His grace and deeply compassionate toward His people. It realizes that the Lord of the Sabbath is standing in the room. When you have that kind of awe, you don't stand in the corner judging the withered hands around you; you fall to your knees because the Healer is in the house. You realize that standing in His presence is a holy privilege, not a platform for your own righteousness.
And he saith unto them, Is it lawful to do good on the sabbath days, or to do evil? to save life, or to kill? But they held their peace. And when he had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts, he saith unto the man, Stretch forth thine hand. And he stretched it out: and his hand was restored whole as the other.— Mark 3:4-5, KJV
The fear of the Lord is not a threat; it is a sanctuary. It is the breathtaking realization that the God who holds the galaxies together in the palm of His hand also knows the number of hairs on your head, and He loves you relentlessly. When you trade your earthly terror for heavenly reverence, you stop running from God and start running to Him. Let His majesty ruin your pride, let His grace wash away your anxiety, and step confidently into the awe of His holy presence today.