Mareh Makom · Fear ·
Fear: The price of a life without awe and a journey toward the courage to think
Why is the fear of thinking more dangerous than any other fear?
Source: When fear strips away the radiance of life
"Excessive fear strips away the radiance of life from humanity and from every sentient creature. There is no evil and cruel thing in the world comparable to it. It magnifies all evils incomparably beyond what they are. The source of all weakness and all physical, moral, and intellectual frailty is solely fear that oversteps its bounds; it threatens a person not to lift a finger to save himself, lest he be harmed, lest he bring upon himself an irreparable evil, until it renders him weak and full of frailty, until through laziness and inaction he falls into every evil.
The most harmful fear is intellectual fear, which false imagination casts upon the most delicate and glorious segment of humanity, those who stand as a banner, to be shining lights illuminating the paths of life for the entire collective. The greater a person's aptitude to understand and comprehend, the greater his imaginary fear of the workings of thought."
(Rabbi Abraham Isaac HaKohen Kook, 'Ikvei HaTzon', Third Essay - Fear)
Explanation: The hidden fear of leading and thinking
Among all kinds of fear, says Rav Kook, the fear of thinking is the most terrible of all. Our fears of self-criticism and external critique, of taking initiative, of learning and accepting responsibility, lead most people to prefer blissful ignorance, conformity (following the herd), and retreating into their shell (withdrawing inward)—all so they won't have to lead, make decisions, defy convention, and carry the weight of responsibility.
Perspective: From fear of heaven to fear of the banal
We live in the safest, most affluent era in history, and the more wealth and choice we have, the greater the fear of losing, of deciding. We traded cathedrals and synagogues—where we learned to face the fear of deciding alone—for Lexapro. When a society loses the ability to feel awe—toward history, truth, or God—it is left only with the fear of the banal. When the ego is the largest object in the universe, every scratch feels like ruin. Awe is not weakness, but perspective; it is the calming realization that a human being is not the world's center of gravity. Emotional wholeness requires looking less in the mirror and more at the horizon.
Going Deeper: The three faces of awe: From punishment to majesty
Jewish tradition divided fear into three categories: yirat ha-onesh (fear of punishment), yirat ha-chet (fear of sin), and yirat ha-romemut (awe of majesty). You could picture someone sitting in their car at a red light in the middle of the night. Maybe they are afraid of a traffic camera or a cop; maybe they are afraid of an accident; or maybe they respect the law. The first fear is obviously the basest—it is not substantive, thinking only of itself. The second fear stems from the concern that the transgression itself will harm you or someone else; this is an essential fear, vital for preserving life. But the highest value is yirat ha-romemut—an awe that is not fright but reverence, an awe that does not threaten, but empowers.
Culture: Nick Cave and the heretic's prayer: Awe in the guise of cynicism
Nick Cave's 1997 song "Into My Arms" opens with the ultimate atheist line: "I don't believe in an interventionist God." But a second later, he falls to his knees and prays. Why? Because when both love and fear are on the line, the intellect collapses.
This is the soundtrack of today's "Lonely Man of Faith": modern man may reject religion, yet remain drawn to awe. Cave shows that even the most cynical person cannot live without moments of surrender before the sublime. He isn't afraid of punishment; he is simply in awe of beauty. It is a moment of "rejoice with trembling"—joy mixed with trembling, fear wrapped in joy and love.