The fear of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdom. ...The fear which is the first
step to wisdom is the fear of being untrue to God and to ourselves. It is the
fear that we have lied to ourselves, that we have thrown down our lives at the
feet of a false god.
Thomas Merton. Thoughts
in Solitude. (New York: Farrar, Strauss, Giroux): 73
Fear??? I understand a deep sense of awe that, if honored, paralyzes any impulse, on my part, to act unwisely. I understand the deepest of tragedies that emerges when we lie to ourselves--"when we have thrown down our lives at the feet of a false god."
Yet, I cannot reconcile fear with any motivation I might have to act in wisdom. I am not motivated to seek wisdom in the sense of fear that resides in the pit of my stomach.
Is my understanding of fear inconsistent with its common definition--with its derivation? Questions of word derivation lead me to the convenient knowledge the Online Etymology Dictionary affords me. Here is the entry given for fear:
Fear (v.) O.E. faeran "terrify, frighten," originally transitive (sense preserved in archaic I fear me). Meaning "feel fear" is 14 c. Cognate with O.S. faron "to lie in wait," M.Du. vaeren "to fear," O.H.G. faren "to plot against," O.N. faera "to taunt."
Awe, perhaps? Am I shirking moral responsibility, if I opt to live in awe in the stead of living in fear? The Online Etymology Dictionary offers the following offers the following derivation of awe.
c.1300, earlier aghe, c.1200 from a Scandinavian source, cf. O.N. agi "fright," from P.Gmc. *agiz (cf. O.E. ege "fear," O.H.G. agiso "fright, terror" Goth. agis "fear, anguish," from PIE *agh-es- (cf. Gk. akhos "pain, grief"), from base "agh-" "to be depressed, be afraid"...
The overlap between fear and awe surprises me. The sun setting in the northwest sky outside of my home is the best summation of awe that I know.
I have been blessed to touch--to feel--the texture of awe. There is a depth to pain, to grief, and to anguish that calls for growth. I do not seek out pain, grief, or anguish, for its own sake. Yet, when it comes knocking, I must come to the door. I must answer the call.
Yet, for now, I do not know any more than when I first read the passage from Thomas Merton. How do I advocate for my belief, if I cannot articulate it more clearly? I fear I do not know.
