When is fear a gift?

For the Feast of Pentecost, a creative parish pastoral council once staged this gimmick: After Communion, as something of a dessert perhaps, little rolled pieces of paper not unlike those inside fortune cookies were distributed to the entire congregation. Your “fortune” was one of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. What you received was supposedly what you needed the most. I remember slowly unrolling what was handed to me and thinking, “Getting some knowledge, or wisdom, or understanding, or right counsel would be good. A bit of courage or piety would not hurt either.” But what I got was the gift I least expected – fear of the Lord.

Actually, I felt a bit insulted: “Ibig bang sabihin nito na wala akong takot sa Diyos?” What does fear of the Lord mean? Is it connected to the fact that we used to call the Holy Spirit the Holy Ghost?

The word for fear in the New Testament is phobos. This forms part of the roots of words like claustrophobia (the fear of being closed in), sociophobia (the fear of social situations), and even hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia (the fear of long words).

But in the New Testament, there are two kinds of fear: the deathly dread that saps faith and the jaw-dropping awe that increases it. It was the first kind of fear that gripped the disciples when they saw Jesus walking on water (Matthew 14:26: “They were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear”). It was also the first kind of fear that made the disciples cower and hide as they did in our Gospel today (John 20:19: “The doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews”).

The second type of fear moved those who witnessed the raising of the widow’s son at Nain a step closer to Jesus’ real identity (Luke 7:16: “Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, ‘A great prophet has risen among us’). The second type of fear also brought to the fold many believers “because many wonders and signs were being done” by the Spirit-empowered apostles who were once so afraid (Acts 2:43). This second type of fear can be better translated as amazement.

I guess I do need more of this second kind of fear. Many times, I am cynical. I take on a “been there, done that” attitude. With a yawn, I tell God, “Show me something new.” But many times, I have not even seen a fraction of what the “old” has to offer. Much is still there waiting to be discovered, to be relished, to be loved – sometimes again, more often for the first time.

I remember my first few Masses as a priest. My hands quivered as I lifted bread to God, and I stuttered as I asked him to turn it into His Body. When I later on broke His Body as I recited the Lamb of God, I could not stop my hands from shaking. This was God, and I was breaking Him! But He wanted to be broken so that He could be shared. Amazing! And as my fingers held him, I remember falling in love with Him again and again as I gave Him away to His people. Three years a priest and my hands don’t shake anymore.

I have helped prepare quite a number of children for Holy Communion. I remember the excitement and wonder in their faces as they lined up to receive the Lord for the very first time. Three Sundays after and those same kids are more excited to go back to their seats and resume texting their friends.

St. Paul urges the Philippians to approach their salvation “with fear and trembling” (Phil 2:12). You could probably translate trembling as “may panginginig.” I would hazard a different translation: “may kilig.” Three years a priest and where is the kilig? What about you? Does your heart beat faster when you line up for the Body of Christ? Do your palms get sweaty as you clasp your hands in prayer? Is there a lump in your throat as you prepare to receive under the roof of your mouth Him Whom we will never be worthy of? Kailan kayo huling kinilig sa Diyos?

I am not just looking for a shallow feeling here. Beyond the renewed titillation over an old crush, I am looking for deeper love. St. Thomas Aquinas describes the gift that is the fear of the Lord not as the fear of punishment but as the fear of being separated from Someone you love. I would add that it is also the fear of not being able to come closer to a God Who is always inviting us to commune with Him more deeply. Revelation warns, “You have lost the love you had at first… You are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth” (Rev. 2:4, 3:15-16). More than just a rejuvenated infatuation, we should seek rekindled passion.

I once heard the confession of a man who, by the sound of his voice, was quite advanced in years. He was also far advanced in knowledge, wisdom, understanding, right counsel, courage, piety, and fear of the Lord. I do not remember his sins anymore, but I will always remember the way he said the Act of Contrition. “I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell,” he uttered humbly, with voice cracking, and with great sorrow. Some would say that this was already the fear of the Lord at work. I would say that the gift was more evident in what came next: “But most of all because they offend you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love.” The sadness in his voice gave way to wonder, gratitude, and then great love. You could tell his heart skipped a beat as he said those words. And I imagined him lifting his gaze and saying, “For all my evil, you only have good. My sin abounds; your grace surmounts. How can you love me still? How can I not love you more after all this?” The man was not able to continue. Though unfinished, it was the most complete Act of Contrition I have ever heard.

This Pentecost, ask for the gift of fear of the Lord. Ask for unceasing wonder and awe and amazement. Ask for an increase in passion. Ask for ever greater love.