Years ago a manager coached me on how to work with employees who were expressing strong emotions. His advice was that strong emotions are most often rooted in fear. “You have to find out what’s driving the fear to resolve the issue, otherwise whatever action you take will simply be temporary.” That resonated. But then he added, “the challenge is, they often won’t know what the root of that fear is.”
This scene plays out in my backyard on many mornings. I uncrate Sage, our loveable Chessie/lab/shepherd mix, and open the back door to let her out to go to the bathroom. As I let her out, I give her the “be quiet” command and then she tears out the door barking for all she’s worth. There’s a word that explains why, it's fear.
Dogs instinctively feel vulnerable when they relieve themselves. Meek, mild, timid Sage, in her gruffest of voices, has to let everything she can’t see outside her fenced in yard know that she is tough and not to mess with her as she pees and poops. She has no idea what it is she is afraid of, she just needs to emote that fear, and loudly.
The challenge, of course, is that other dogs hear Sage’s alarm and faint barking sounds can be heard emitting from within the walls of neighboring homes. They are now parroting the alarm, shouting fearfully of that which they know not. The second challenge, of course, is that I’m an early riser. Sage’s unfounded alarm often happens around 5 a.m. and most neighbors seriously wish that I might sleep in a bit longer, or at least learn to say no to Sage’s request to exit her crate.
The problem is less intense near the summer equinox when daylight arises even earlier than I do. Sage goes out, sees all is well, and quietly goes about her business. The light has come and she simply now can see that there is no basis for fear. Her silence enables more silence throughout the crates and kennels within the range of her bark, and the referring bark network.
We can laugh at such dog behavior until we stumble upon a mirror. If there is one thing humans are profoundly accomplished at, it is “borrowing trouble,” being fearful of things we have no reason to fear, at least not yet. In close second place is to inherit trouble from others when we hear our neighboring “Sage” spout fear, and join in as part of “Sage’s choir” of automatic heralders. No need to actually know why we have our borrowed or inherited fear, no need to look up facts, no need to pause. Just a profound need to bark. Think you’re innocent? Pick a topic. Politics. Theology. Parenting. Relationships. Stupid mirror.
Perhaps it is because of this human condition that God decided to begin Jesus’ earthly journey with a message to the human race:
Fear Not.
Fear not because what has come is something of great joy. Fear not even though what has happened this night will disrupt everything the world has ever known. Fear not even though this is foreign and unknown to you and will change everything about you should you opt to run toward it. Fear not for this is not a threat but rather the propagation of fear by the prince of darkness being replaced by the light of the Prince of Peace.
Fear not and run to this gathering, this mass - this Christmas - to welcome the christos … this King that is so “fearful” that you’ll find him wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth, Peace.
The Light of the World has arrived.
Fear Not.