Len Ballenger

I recently returned from taking my daughter to Arizona to visit the place where she was born. While we were there, the two of us went up for a day to the Grand Canyon. Pictures never do justice to the vastness and awe of this natural beauty. A person has no idea what thoughts and emotions can enter one’s heart until he experiences a stagger along the rim of the canyon in person. Beyond that, being there with a highly adventurous child who wants to skip and run as close as possible to the canyon’s edge evokes an even greater sense of vigilance and protective caution that remains constant with every step. Accordingly, as though there was a script written for every father to follow, I joined in a chorus of other parents barking metered orders and safety instructions upon every new bend in the trail. My verbal sway was met with a variety of responses from my daughter ranging from affirmative nods to quick retorts of assurance punctuated by rolled eyes. Without realizing it, I was experiencing the “fear of the Grand Canyon.” I loved its beauty and reverenced its vast scale, but I took every step and made every decision with caution because I could see the possibility of my demise and the demise of my child if we were to venture outside the boundaries of the trail. In truth, you can really never experience the ”fear of the Grand Canyon” until you’re standing on its rim looking over into its vast crevice. As I did my best to make my daughter aware of the “fear of the Grand Canyon” I was experiencing, I began to think about the fear of God.

We don’t teach our children to fear a “kind grandfather” or “Santa Claus.” Why then would we teach them to fear God? To begin with, a comparison of God with Santa Claus is degrading nearly to the point of heresy. As one man said, “The sentimental view of God we too often portray generates a deity with all the awesome holiness of a cuddly toy.” However, it is important to understand that fearing God is not exactly the same as being afraid of God. The person who fears God, in somewhat the same way as I feared the Grand Canyon, comes to recognize his humble smallness next to God’s vast glory, majesty, dominion, and power. This recognition then instinctively affects every decision, act, and step of that person’s life. The person who fears God recognizes that He is not only admirable and praiseworthy, a giver of all good things, and a lover of children, but, He is also the Lord of the Universe, the One who has the power to create, and the One who has the power to destroy. He is the One who rewards, and also the One who disciplines. A person who fears God has seen his majesty and awesome power in a proximity that affects every part of his being. Although God is gracious enough to make himself available to us in relationship, the fear of God, in other words, is the sobering recognition that He is not to be trifled with. In the same way, to walk outside of the fear of God is no less foolish than to walk blindfolded along the rim of the Grand Canyon.