In the Hebrew Bible, yirah embodies a paradox: it can mean both "fear" and "awe." This linguistic duality reflects a timeless struggle within the human spirit. Throughout history, we have grappled with the tension between these two powerful emotions, and today, that struggle is playing out on our nation's political and spiritual stages.
Fear is the weapon of the oppressor. Awe is the birthright of the liberated.
In recent years, we have witnessed the rise of a political ideology rooted deeply in fear. This fear is not just an abstract anxiety; it is a deliberate, calculated effort to turn back the clock to a time when only a select few held power and privilege—namely, white men. To understand this fully, we must acknowledge the historical evolution of "whiteness" itself. In the United States, whiteness was originally reserved for men of British descent. Over time, other immigrant groups (that could) assimilated into this construct of whiteness, often at great cost to themselves—a loss of culture—and at the expense of those who could never be part of this exclusive club. This expansion of whiteness often involved climbing over others—sometimes through violence and murder—as a means to sustain an exclusionary power structure.
Today, we live in a more diverse and inclusive society than ever before. Voices once invisible and silenced now demand to be seen and heard. Yet, some perceive this progress as a threat. They cling to a zero-sum worldview, where one group's rise must mean another's decline. This fear of loss—of power, status, and cultural dominance—drives their politics and vision of the future.
This fear is not limited to the political arena; it has deep roots in certain strains of Christianity as well, particularly in the ideology of Christian nationalism. This type of Christianity often centers on the belief that the United States should be a Christian nation, where white Christians are the rightful rulers. In this framework, whiteness is closely tied to both religious and national identity, reinforcing the idea that "true" Americans are white Christians. This belief marginalizes non-white and non-Christian communities, portraying them as threats to the "traditional" American identity. For many, their religious experience is shaped by a fear of God—a fear that stepping out of line will result in divine retribution. This fear-based faith views life as a rigid set of rules designed to avoid punishment. It fosters a religion of scarcity, where the love and grace of God are distributed sparingly, reserved only for those who strictly conform, and where the power and control of a select few are maintained through the exclusion and marginalization of others. This intertwining of whiteness with Christian identity and national loyalty is used to justify exclusionary policies and maintain power, often by invoking fear of the "other" as a threat to the nation's core identity.
However, this narrative of fear is not the only path available to us. What if we shifted our focus from fear to awe? In the Hebrew Bible, awe is not about trembling in terror before a wrathful deity; it is about standing in wonder before the vastness and mystery of the Divine. Awe inspires us to see the sacredness in all people, to embrace diversity as a reflection of God's infinite creativity, and to work towards a society that honors the dignity of every human being.
Awe invites us to envision a future not rooted in the fear of what we might lose but in the awe of what we can create together. It calls us to move beyond the narrow confines of a past that excluded so many and to step into a future where all voices are heard, all rights are respected, and all people are valued.
As we stand at this crossroads, we must choose which path to follow. Will we allow fear to drive us back into a past of exclusion and division? Or will we embrace the awe that calls us forward into a future of inclusion, justice, and love? The choice is ours, and it will define not only our politics but our very souls.
Let us choose awe and, with it, commit ourselves to building a future that honors the dignity and humanity of all.
Childless Cat Lady, Dog Mom Blues
My new song that I first recorded on my back porch is a hit on Youtube and in a few days has already been seen by over 9k people on Youtube, I’ve never had a song reach that many people ever. Thank you. So, the other day I went to a music studio to record it and here it is. Thank you Benjy from Earth Tones Recording Studio.
This is a fun song that captures this current political moment. I hope you enjoy it. It’s available wherever you stream music. BTW, I have other music coming out soon, follow me on Spotify, Apple, Amazon etc to get notified when new music comes out.
Dear Rabbi Sandra, This might not be your intention but I just had to ask. In your view, did racism start in the so-called "New World colonies?" Or did racial hatred, othering, and discriminatory behaviors originate earlier in human history? This is a question I've asked myself for decades. Thanks for your leadership and guidance.