Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

I don’t usually like scary movies. On the rare occasion when I do watch one, just when the plot turns to terror and my heart starts to race, my mind speaks, “it is just a movie.” “Oh yeah,” my heart says and I make the boring intellectual decision not to be afraid.

I do like M. Night Shyamalan’s movies.  One reason is that I just like saying his last name, “Shymanahanalana. . . .,” I never get it right. But more than that, I like them because the end is often such a surprise. I mean who knew Bruce Willis was dead until the very end. Plus his movies aren’t just about blood and gore, and horror. They usually really make me think. One of my favorites is The Village. This movie is the story of a 18th century village in the middle of the American woods which is isolated from the rest of the world by a monster who lives beyond the boundaries of the village. The monster looks sort of like a cross between the big bad wolf and a porcupine with boney fingers and a red cape. He remains outside of the village as long as its residents behave and follow the rules. The plot thickens as one villager steps out of line and the monster enters the camp. Sorry to give a way the suspense, but in the end the monster turns out just to be a man dressed up to keep the villagers from wandering away and discovering the world.

As I think about the monster I am driven to one tragic fact about our humanity: we are afraid of each other.  Rarely do we fear physical harm, but we are terrified none the less. We are afraid of what others think and how they will react to us. Will they accept or reject us? What if they don’t value me? And this fear keeps us from leading better lives.

An example from my own life quickly comes to mind. A few days ago I had to call a Bulgarian man about keeping our dog for a few days. Understanding Bulgarian is hardest over the phone and I had been told that this man was particularly difficult to comprehend. So I dreaded calling him. I put it off for two whole days. In the end I survived the phone call and we communicated perfectly well. It was even pleasant.

The real question on my heart is “Why?” Why was I anxious about talking to this person? He had no real power over me. What was the worse thing that could have happened? Did it really matter if I didn’t get all the verb forms right? So what if I had to ask him to repeat himself more slowly? But I let my fear control my actions for two days.

I don’t think I am alone in my trepidation. As I look at those around me, my family, my friends, my students, I recognize how often we are shackled by the fear of rejection from others. Sometimes we are so self-centered that we act as if the sole reason for others’ existence is to judge us. And that terrifies us.

I was having a philosophical conversation a few days ago with my oldest son Luke. I asked him why he thought we humans were so afraid of what others thought of us. He answered, “Because we don’t see enough value in ourselves so we look to others to give us that sense of value. If we could constantly recognize our own self-worth then the opinion of others wouldn’t scare us.” Smart guy!

I challenge you to take Luke’s words and use them as a lens for your own heart. How does your own self-understanding impact how you see others? How does your fear keep you from being free? What if the terrifying monster you most fear is just a person dressed in a scary suit?