You can tell a lot about a culture by observing its biggest fears. In contemporary secular culture, no fear is more animating than the fear of death. But the way that fear shapes our lives can look different.
In his book Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity, Peter Attia captures two seemingly competing fears that stem from the fear of death:
My obsession with longevity was really about my fear of dying. And something about having children was making my obsession with longevity ever more frenetic. I was running away from dying as fast as I could. Yet at the same time, ironically, I was also avoiding actually living.
Attia’s paradox is about coexisting fears: the fear of living poorly versus living shortly. How do you manage that tension? How do you decide if you’re managing it well?
Two Approaches
Attia’s tension is representative of two general approaches to life that dominate our secular culture. We might call these the FOMO School and the Attia School. The FOMO (fear of missing out) School represents being controlled by the fear of not living; the Attia School represents being controlled by the fear of death.
The FOMO School says, “I’m here for a good time, not for a long time.” The goal is to make the most of every moment and rarely say no to pleasure. In the Bible, this school finds expression in Ecclesiastes:
Go, eat your bread with joy, and drink your wine with a merry heart, for God has already approved what you do. . . . Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life that he has given you under the sun. . . . Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might (Eccl. 9:7, 9–10).
We’re dying soon and quickly, so thankful enjoyment is the way. Those in this school are characterized by feasting.
The Attia School sees emptiness in this approach. Hangovers aren’t fun, feeling terrible after eating a whole pizza isn’t life at its best, and missing out on disease sounds better than missing out on dessert. Those in this school are characterized by fasting, along with other practices Christians will recognize like sobriety and asceticism.
Along these lines, the Westminster Larger Catechism asks, What are the duties required in the sixth commandment? The explicit command in Exodus 20:13 is “you shall not murder,” but the reformers’ answer includes avoiding the unnecessary killing of ourselves via unhealthy habits: “The duties required in the Sixth Commandment are, all careful studies, and lawful endeavors, to preserve the life of ourselves . . . a sober use of meat, drink, physical, sleep, labour, and recreations.”
We’re made in God’s image, so self-destructive lifestyle choices are sinful.
Nature of Fear
Fear is self-protective by nature. It’s what happens to your mind and body when you or something you love is in danger or perceived to be in danger.
The easiest way to not be afraid of anything is to be ignorant: don’t know about car crashes, don’t learn about how cancer develops, and don’t find out what contributes to cardiovascular disease. The second easiest way to not be afraid of anything is to not love anything: have nothing to lose, maintain no attachments, and extinguish all your desires.
These are sub-Christian options. While the Bible regularly commands us to fear not, it also commands us to fear God. The aim isn’t total fearlessness but healthy fear. In Scripture, the fears of God’s people often lead them into sin, but sometimes their fears lead them to turn to the Lord for help and wisdom. Fear can become either healthy or harmful for us in the way we process it and prioritize certain fears over others.
Reframe Fear of Death
The fears of living poorly and living shortly are connected.
The aim isn’t total fearlessness but healthy fear.
Through his death, Jesus delivered “all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery” (Heb. 2:14–15). Slavery to pleasurable pursuits is downstream from the fear of dying. Because life is short and nothing happens when you die, it follows that I have to squeeze in as much dopamine as possible. Nihilism begets hedonism.
Both fears prompt us toward pleasure maximization. They’re attempting to answer the same question: How do I get the most out of life in this life?
The death of death in the death of Christ frees us from this narrow, immanent frame and invites us into the broad place (Ps. 18:19). Materialism’s scarcity mentality gives way to the abundance mentality of the abundant life (John 10:10) brought about by resurrection. Life after death causes us to do our pleasure math differently. And in this eternal, transcendent frame, the equation can begin to balance.
Rightly Ordered Fears
The Christian tradition has long had a place for making sense of rightly ordering our loves; here I propose we need the category of rightly ordering our fears.
We don’t have to choose between fear of death and fear of missing out; we can subordinate both to the fear of the Lord. When a wise fear of God is our highest-ranking fear, the others that shape our lives will be put in perspective and given a healthier expression.
We don’t have to choose between fear of death and fear of missing out; we can subordinate both to the fear of the Lord.
Rather than making healthy choices because we’re afraid of dying, for example, we can make healthy choices because we understand ourselves as made in God’s image, full of dignity and value. Reverent fear of the Creator leads us, as his creatures, to take the stewardship of our bodies seriously, knowing we’re not our own. We fast not out of fear of death, but out of devoted love of God.
Rather than celebrating and feasting because we’re afraid of missing out on a good time, we can eat and drink because Christ has conquered death and is ruling over history. Reverent fear of an infinitely sovereign, bountiful God leads us to gratitude-driven rest and enjoyment of his good gifts. We feast not because time is short, but because death is defeated and eternal life awaits.
Walking in fear of the Lord, we can fast and feast.