Danjuma had retired from the civil service after thirty-two years, and his grandchildren liked to tease him that his phone had become his new office. He belonged to the family WhatsApp group, the church elders’ group, the estate residents’ association, two groups for retired colleagues, his old secondary school’s alumni group and several more. He was, as he put it, “a responsible man who keeps people informed.”
One Tuesday morning a message arrived in the estate group. It was written in urgent capital letters. Kidnappers in Kaduna, it said, had a new method. They were posing as sales promoters in supermarkets, offering free perfume samples, and the perfume contained a drug that made the victim drowsy and easy to lead away. Do not let anyone spray anything near you. Warn your wives and daughters. Forward this to everyone you love.
Danjuma read it twice. His granddaughter was at a university hostel. His wife did the shopping on Saturdays. The danger of kidnapping in the north was real; he knew families who had paid ransoms. He did not stop to think. He forwarded the message to every group he belonged to, fourteen in all, with a line of his own at the top: “Please take this seriously. God protect us.”
That evening his grandson Sadiq, home from Zaria for the weekend, saw the message on his grandfather’s phone and frowned. He searched for a few minutes, then held out the screen. The same warning, almost word for word, had been circulating for years in several countries. Police in different places had investigated it and found nothing. The story was a hoax.
“But Grandpa,” Sadiq said, “it doesn’t matter now. It’s everywhere.”
He was right. By the weekend, Danjuma’s wife came home from the supermarket and told him what she had seen. A young woman in a company uniform had been handing out samples of air freshener by the entrance. A man had shouted at her, accusing her of being one of the kidnappers. A small crowd had gathered. The security guard had to escort her out of the building while she cried.
Danjuma did not sleep well that night. He had meant well. He had wanted to protect people. But he had become a messenger for fear, and fear had found a victim.
A world that runs on fear
We live in a world that is saturated with alarm. Some of what alarms us is real. In Nigeria, insecurity is not imaginary; kidnapping, banditry and violent crime have devastated families. Prices rise faster than salaries. Elections bring tension. Disease outbreaks come and go. Across the world, wars and disasters fill the news. A believer who claims that none of this matters has not been paying attention.
But alongside the real dangers, there is an entire economy built on making us afraid. News outlets have learned that fear keeps people watching. Social media rewards whatever provokes the strongest reaction, and nothing provokes a stronger reaction than a threat. Advertisers sell security systems, insurance policies and supplements by first convincing us that we are in danger. Politicians gather support by telling us whom to fear. And sadly, some preachers have learned the same lesson, filling their sermons with ever darker warnings about enemies, curses and attacks, because frightened people come back, and frightened people give.
Jesus foresaw a time when there would be “upon the earth distress of nations, with perplexity,” and “Men’s hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth” (Luke 21:25-26). Notice that last phrase. Hearts fail not only because of what is happening, but because of looking after what is coming: the constant anxious scanning of the horizon for the next threat.
The danger for believers is not only that we feel afraid. It is that we absorb the fear of the culture around us so thoroughly that we begin to think, speak and act just like everyone else. We forward the same messages. We share the same suspicions. We lie awake over the same rumours. And we stop being people who carry anything different into the world.
Proverbs puts it bluntly: “The simple believeth every word: but the prudent man looketh well to his going” (Proverbs 14:15). The simple person absorbs whatever he is told. The prudent person stops and considers. In an age of forwarded messages, that verse could hardly be more relevant.
“Neither fear ye their fear”
PunchlineThere was a time in Israel’s history when fear swept through a whole nation, and God gave His prophet a very specific instruction about it.
In the days of King Ahaz, around 735 BC, the kings of Syria and the northern kingdom of Israel formed an alliance and marched against Judah. When the news reached Jerusalem, Isaiah tells us, “his heart was moved, and the heart of his people, as the trees of the wood are moved with the wind” (Isaiah 7:2). The whole city shook like a forest in a storm. Rumours flew. Ahaz, instead of trusting God, was secretly preparing to appeal to Assyria for help, a decision that would bring disaster on his nation.
In the middle of that panic, God spoke to Isaiah:
For the LORD spake thus to me with a strong hand, and instructed me that I should not walk in the way of this people, saying, Say ye not, A confederacy, to all them to whom this people shall say, A confederacy; neither fear ye their fear, nor be afraid. Sanctify the LORD of hosts himself; and let him be your fear, and let him be your dread. And he shall be for a sanctuary; but for a stone of stumbling and for a rock of offence to both the houses of Israel, for a gin and for a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem.
“The LORD spake thus to me with a strong hand, and instructed me that I should not walk in the way of this people.” God was warning His prophet not to be swept along by the national mood. “Say ye not, A confederacy, to all them to whom this people shall say, A confederacy.” The word confederacy refers to a conspiracy or alliance. Everyone in Jerusalem was talking about plots and alliances. The air was thick with conspiracy talk. Isaiah was told not to join in.
Then comes the heart of it: “neither fear ye their fear, nor be afraid. Sanctify the LORD of hosts himself; and let him be your fear, and let him be your dread.” In other words, do not take on the fear of the crowd. Let your fear be directed to the one place it belongs. The fear of the LORD is not terror. It is reverent awe, the recognition that God is holy and sovereign and far greater than any threat. When the LORD is your fear, other fears shrink to their proper size.
And then the promise: “he shall be for a sanctuary.” The God you reverence becomes your refuge. The One you fear is the One in whom you shelter.
Notice what this does not say. It does not tell Isaiah to pretend the armies are not coming. It does not forbid him to take sensible action. It tells him not to let the crowd’s fear become his fear. There is a difference between seeing a danger clearly and being governed by the panic around it.
Peter’s word to a frightened church
Seven centuries later, the apostle Peter wrote to believers scattered across Asia Minor who were facing suspicion, slander and the threat of persecution. And he reached back to exactly this passage in Isaiah:
And who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good? But and if ye suffer for righteousness’ sake, happy are ye : and be not afraid of their terror, neither be troubled; But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.
“Be not afraid of their terror, neither be troubled.” That is Peter’s paraphrase of Isaiah 8:12. “But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts.” That is Isaiah 8:13. Peter takes the instruction God gave Isaiah during a national panic and applies it to every Christian living in a hostile, frightening environment.
Look at what he says comes next. When you have set apart the Lord in your heart, you are to “be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.” Peter expects that believers who refuse the fear of the crowd will stand out. People will notice. They will want to know why you are not panicking with everyone else. Your hope will provoke questions.
That is a remarkable picture of the church in a fearful world. We are not called to deny that the world is dangerous. We are called to carry a different spirit into it, a hope that is visible enough for people to ask about. And when they ask, we are to answer gently and respectfully, “with meekness and fear,” without arrogance and without contempt for those who are afraid.
How many people around you are drowning in fear right now? Your colleagues, your neighbours, the people in your family groups? They do not need another believer forwarding the same alarm. They need someone who knows the Lord of hosts as a sanctuary, and who can tell them why.
You are called to see danger clearly without taking on the fear of the crowd. Set apart Christ as Lord in your heart, and your hope will be visible enough for others to ask about.
Not afraid of evil tidings
One of the psalms describes the kind of person who lives this way:
Surely he shall not be moved for ever: the righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance. He shall not be afraid of evil tidings: his heart is fixed, trusting in the LORD . His heart is established, he shall not be afraid, until he see his desire upon his enemies.
“He shall not be afraid of evil tidings: his heart is fixed, trusting in the LORD.” Evil tidings are bad news. The psalmist does not say the righteous man never receives bad news. He receives it like everyone else. But it does not knock him over, because his heart is fixed. The Hebrew word carries the sense of being firm, established, made ready. His heart has been anchored somewhere the news cannot reach.
Think about how much of our emotional life is now governed by tidings. We wake up and check the news before we pray. We scroll through alarming headlines while we eat. We go to bed with the last frightening video still playing in our minds. Our hearts are not fixed; they are blown about by whatever the latest report says.
The psalm describes a different order. The heart is fixed first, by trusting in the LORD, and then the tidings come. When the order is right, bad news can be received, absorbed, prayed over and acted upon without becoming the master of the soul.
This is not indifference. The person whose heart is fixed may grieve deeply over the news. He may weep for the victims of an attack, give generously to a family that has lost everything, or take serious precautions for his household. Jesus Himself wept. But the news does not define reality for him. God does.
The fear beneath all fears
Why are people so easily driven by fear? The writer to the Hebrews identifies the deepest root of it:
Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; And deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.
“Them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.” Underneath the fear of kidnappers, disease, poverty and violence lies a deeper fear: the fear of death, of loss, of being finally undone. That fear, Hebrews says, holds human beings in lifelong bondage. It is the fear that every other fear draws its power from. It is why rumours spread so fast, why we cling so hard to control, why a frightening message can make sensible people abandon their judgement.
And here is the gospel. Christ took on flesh and blood, “that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; And deliver them.” Jesus entered death and came out the other side. He broke its power. For those who belong to Him, death is no longer the final word. It is a defeated enemy.
That does not mean believers will never face danger, or that we should be careless with our lives. It means that the deepest fear has lost its grip. A person who knows that even death cannot separate him from the love of God can face lesser dangers with a steadiness the world does not have. That is why the early Christians stayed behind to nurse the sick during plagues in the Roman Empire when others fled. Their courage did not come from ignorance of the danger. It came from a hope that went beyond the grave.
The psalmist could say, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed” (Psalm 46:1-2). That is not the confidence of a man who thinks nothing bad can happen. It is the confidence of a man who knows where his refuge is when the worst does happen. And it ends with God’s own voice: “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).
What fear does to the way we treat people
NuggetFear does not stay inside us. It shapes how we treat other people, and very often it makes us harsh.
When people are afraid, they look for someone to blame. Rumours turn into suspicion of particular tribes, religions or groups. A frightened community can turn on a stranger, a migrant or a young woman handing out samples in a supermarket. Fear makes us see people as threats instead of neighbours. It hardens our generalisations and shrinks our compassion.
Paul’s instructions to the church in Rome speak directly to this:
Bless them which persecute you: bless, and curse not. Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep. Be of the same mind one toward another. Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate. Be not wise in your own conceits. Recompense to no man evil for evil. Provide things honest in the sight of all men. If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.
“Bless them which persecute you.” “Weep with them that weep.” “Recompense to no man evil for evil.” “If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.” These are instructions for people living in a hostile world, and they call us to a completely different way of responding to fear. Instead of suspicion, honour. Instead of blame, blessing. Instead of spreading alarm, seeking peace.
Scripture also takes our words very seriously. The law of Moses said, “Thou shalt not raise a false report” (Exodus 23:1). Proverbs warns that “The words of a talebearer are as wounds” (Proverbs 18:8). A believer who forwards an unverified rumour may not intend to bear false witness, but the effect can be exactly the same. Danjuma did not intend any harm. But his message helped to make a frightened crowd see a kidnapper in an innocent girl.
So before you pass something on, ask a few questions. Is it true? How do I know? Who first said it? Will passing it on help anyone act wisely, or will it only spread fear? If you cannot answer those questions, do not forward it. Silence is not irresponsibility. Sometimes it is love.
And if you discover that you have passed on something false, correct it. Send the correction to the same groups you sent the original to. That small act of humility can undo more harm than you might think, and it shows the people around you that truth matters more to you than looking well informed.
The One asleep in the boat
There is a scene in the Gospels that every fearful believer should keep close. Jesus had spent a long day teaching by the Sea of Galilee, and in the evening He said to His disciples, “Let us pass over unto the other side” (Mark 4:35). They set out in the boat, and a great storm of wind arose. The waves beat into the boat until it was filling with water. Several of these men were experienced fishermen. They knew that lake. They knew exactly how dangerous this was.
And Jesus was in the back of the boat, asleep on a pillow.
They woke Him with a question that tells us everything about how fear thinks: “Master, carest thou not that we perish?” (Mark 4:38). Fear always reaches for that conclusion. If He cared, this would not be happening. If He cared, He would be as frantic as we are.
And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. And he said unto them, Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith? And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another, What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?
Notice the order. Jesus rebuked the wind first, then He questioned the disciples. He did not leave them in the storm to teach them a lesson. But once the sea was calm, He asked them, “Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith?” The storm had been real. The water in the boat had been real. What Jesus questioned was the conclusion they had drawn from it, that He did not care, and that the One who had said “let us pass over unto the other side” was about to let them drown halfway across.
The world we live in is a boat in a storm, and the wind is loud. Many voices are shouting that we are about to perish. A believer does not have to pretend the waves are not there. But he can remember who is in the boat with him, and what He said before the journey began. The peace of Jesus asleep on that pillow was not ignorance of the danger. It was perfect confidence in His Father. That is the peace He offers to share with us.
A sober mind in a noisy age
Peter gives us a final word for living in a fear-driven world:
But the end of all things is at hand: be ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer. And above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins. Use hospitality one to another without grudging. As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.
“Be ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer.” To be sober here means to be clear-minded, self-controlled, not intoxicated. Fear can intoxicate us as surely as alcohol. It distorts our judgement, makes us react instead of think, and keeps us from praying clearly. Peter calls believers to keep their heads.
And notice what he puts alongside that sober mind: fervent love, hospitality without grumbling, and using whatever gift you have received to serve others. A clear mind and practical love go together. Fear turns us inward. Hope turns us outward.
What might that look like in practice?
PunchlineChoose your sources carefully. Find a small number of reliable sources of news and use them deliberately. You do not need to know everything the moment it happens.
Set limits on your exposure. If you notice that reading the news leaves you anxious and adds nothing you can act on, give yourself boundaries. Check once or twice a day instead of constantly. Do not let the last thing you see before sleep be a frightening video.
Put prayer before reaction. When an alarming message arrives, pause before you respond. Take it to the Father. Pray for the people affected. Then decide what, if anything, you need to do.
Turn concern into action within your reach. You cannot fix the nation’s security crisis tonight. But you can check on an elderly neighbour, help a family that has been affected, support a credible relief effort or make a sensible plan for your own household. Precautions are wise. Securing your home, varying your routes, keeping emergency numbers handy: none of that is unbelief. Fear becomes ruling when precautions grow into an attempt to remove every uncertainty or justify suspicion of everyone around you.
Be especially careful with children. Children absorb the fear of the adults around them. They hear the conversations and see the videos. Talk to them honestly about real dangers at a level they can understand, and let them see in you a steadiness that comes from trusting God.
And if events have left you with distress that you cannot manage, nightmares, panic or constant fear that disrupts your daily life, please seek help. Many Nigerians have lived through truly traumatic experiences. Pastoral care, trusted companionship and qualified professional help are all gifts God uses. There is no virtue in suffering alone.
Danjuma did not stay in his discouragement for long. The day after his wife told him about the young woman in the supermarket, he sat down with his phone and wrote a message. He sent it to every one of the fourteen groups. “Brothers and sisters, I forwarded a warning on Tuesday about kidnappers and perfume. I have since learned that it is false and has circulated for years in other countries. I am sorry. An innocent young woman was harassed this week because of messages like mine. Please do not forward it further.” A few people thanked him. One or two were annoyed. Several quietly deleted the original.
Then he made himself a new rule, and he taped it to the back of his phone case. Check. Pray. Then act. When the next alarming message arrived a few weeks later, he did not forward it. He checked it. It turned out to be partly true, a real incident on a highway, exaggerated in the retelling. He prayed for the people affected. Then he did something he had not done in months. He called Mama Kanyin, the widow who lived alone three houses down, and asked whether she needed anything from the market, because he knew she would have seen the same message and would be frightened to go out.
She did need some things. He went to the market for her that afternoon. He said afterwards that it was the first time in a long while that a frightening message had made him do something useful.
You cannot control what fills the air around you. The world will keep producing alarms, some true, some false, many somewhere in between. But you can decide whose fear you will carry. You can set apart Christ as Lord in your heart. You can let your heart be fixed before the tidings come. And you can become, in a fearful world, the kind of person whose steadiness makes others ask about the hope that is in you.
Teaching Companion
For Reflection
- What sources of fear have the strongest influence on your thoughts at the moment: news, social media, conversations, sermons, your own imagination?
- Have you ever passed on a message or rumour that turned out to be false? What did you learn from it?
- What would it look like for you to “sanctify the Lord God” in your heart when frightening news arrives?
- How has fear affected the way you see or treat people from other groups, tribes or backgrounds?
- Who in your life is especially frightened right now, and what practical act of love could you offer them this week?
This Week
For the next seven days, adopt Danjuma’s rule: Check. Pray. Then act. Do not forward any alarming message until you have verified it from a reliable source. Before you respond to frightening news, pause and pray for the people involved. Limit your news intake to two set times a day, and do not look at news in the last hour before you sleep. Read Isaiah 8:11-14 and Psalm 112:6-8 each morning. Then choose one person who is likely to be anxious, and contact them with practical help or a word of genuine hope.
A Prayer
Lord Jesus, You have destroyed the power of death and delivered me from the bondage of fear. Forgive me for the times I have taken on the fear of the crowd, spread rumours I had not checked, and let bad news rule my heart. Today I set You apart as Lord in my heart. Be my sanctuary. Fix my heart in trust, so that I am not afraid of evil tidings. Give me a sober mind, a praying spirit and a loving heart. Make me a truthful voice in a noisy world, a steady presence among frightened people, and always ready to give a reason for the hope that is in me. Amen.
Truth received brings freedom. Truth believed establishes the heart.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version. · Illustrations using first names only are composites unless stated otherwise.