Narrator: Imagine a father watching his young sons become utterly captivated by a basketball superstar. They talk about his stats, his skills, his fame. To them, he is the pinnacle of greatness. One day, while on a trip to the coast, this father takes his boys to the edge of the Atlantic Ocean. The waves are powerful, crashing with a force that tosses the boys around like rag dolls. Later that evening, looking out at the immense, dark expanse of water from their hotel room, the father asks them a question. He points to the massive ocean and explains that the God who created everything can hold all the water from all the oceans in the palm of His hand. He can measure the entire, incomprehensibly vast universe with the span of his fingers. In that moment, the basketball player’s fame shrinks, put back into its proper perspective. The boys are no longer in awe of a man, but of God.

This story, from the life of author John Bevere, sits at the heart of his book, The Awe of God. It explores a concept that modern culture often misunderstands or dismisses entirely: the fear of God. Bevere argues that this isn't about being scared of a divine tyrant, but about cultivating a profound sense of awe and reverence that has the power to radically transform every aspect of a person's life.

Narrator: Society often views fear as an enemy. We're told, as President Franklin D. Roosevelt famously said, that "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself." This sentiment drives us to eliminate anxiety and build a life free from all fear. But in The Awe of God, John Bevere presents a challenging counter-narrative: not all fear is bad. He argues that we must distinguish between destructive fears and constructive ones.

Destructive fears, while seemingly sensible, can cripple us. The fear of loss can turn a person into a miser, hoarding wealth while their relationships and well-being decay. The fear of what others think can lead to a life of inauthenticity and compromise. These are the fears that shrink our lives.

Constructive fears, however, are essential for wisdom and protection. A healthy fear of falling keeps us from walking too close to a cliff's edge. A healthy fear of fire keeps us from touching a hot stove. Bevere’s central thesis is that the most important constructive fear is what the Bible calls "the fear of the Lord." He posits that this is not a cowering terror but a reverent awe, a deep respect for God's power, holiness, and majesty. This kind of fear doesn't paralyze; it liberates. It is, as the book of Proverbs states, "the beginning of wisdom," and it serves as the foundation for a life of purpose and freedom.

Narrator: If the fear of the Lord isn't about being scared, then what is it? Bevere defines it as being terrified of being away from God, not being scared of Him. It is an overwhelming sense of awe that draws a person closer to God, not one that pushes them away.

To illustrate this, the book points to the story of the Israelites at Mount Sinai. When God descended on the mountain with thunder, lightning, and smoke, the people were terrified. They told Moses to speak to God on their behalf because they were afraid they would die if God spoke to them directly. Theirs was a fear of God, and it made them want to keep their distance. Moses, in contrast, also feared God, but his reverent awe compelled him to draw nearer, to climb the mountain and enter the cloud of God's presence.

This awe, Bevere contends, is the very thing that attracts God's manifest presence. He recounts a powerful experience while ministering in Brazil. The atmosphere in the arena felt casual and irreverent, and he felt prompted to address it. He spoke about the need for reverence, and as the people repented, the atmosphere in the room dramatically shifted. A sound like a mighty wind filled the arena, and an overwhelming sense of God’s holy presence fell upon the crowd. People began to weep and tremble, not in fright, but in profound awe. The experience demonstrated that God’s presence is found in atmospheres where He is honored and revered.

Narrator: Just as awe invites God’s presence, a lack of it can have severe consequences. The book warns against the modern tendency to domesticate God, to reduce Him to a cosmic friend who makes no demands and overlooks our faults. This trivialized view of God breeds a dangerous lack of reverence.

The most chilling example of this in the book is the New Testament story of Ananias and Sapphira. This couple sold a piece of property and publicly gave a portion of the money to the early church, while pretending it was the full amount. When confronted by the apostle Peter, first Ananias and then Sapphira fell down dead. Bevere clarifies that their sin was not keeping some of the money for themselves; the money was theirs to do with as they pleased. Their sin was hypocrisy. They were more concerned with their projected image—their reputation for generosity—than with the reality of their hearts before a holy God. They lacked a healthy fear of the Lord, believing they could hide their motives from Him, and the consequence was swift and final.

This story serves as a stark warning against what Bevere calls "contagious hypocrisy." When our fear of what people think of us becomes greater than our reverence for God, our integrity begins to erode. Awe is the antidote, freeing us from the need for human approval by anchoring us in the reality of who God is.

Narrator: A common assumption is that fear and intimacy are opposites. We believe that to be close to someone, we must not be afraid of them. Bevere turns this idea on its head, arguing that for a relationship with God, holy fear is the very foundation of true intimacy. It’s impossible to be truly close to someone you don’t truly know, and you cannot know God without first grasping His holiness and majesty.

The book highlights Abraham as a key example. God called Abraham His "friend" and shared His secrets with him, such as His plan to judge Sodom and Gomorrah. This friendship wasn't based on a casual, buddy-buddy relationship. It was built on Abraham's deep reverence and unwavering obedience to God. This awe-filled respect is what qualified him for such a deep level of intimacy.

Without this foundation of awe, people risk creating a "different Jesus" in their own minds—one who is more comfortable and less challenging than the actual Jesus of the Bible. This leads to a superficial relationship, one where people might be active in religious service but don't truly know God because they don't obey Him from a place of reverence. True intimacy, Bevere argues, is reserved for those who fear Him.

Narrator: Ultimately, the fear of the Lord is not just a command to be followed but a "treasure" that yields profound, multi-generational benefits. It is the one fear that, according to Charles Spurgeon, "is the death of every other fear." It gives us the courage to live boldly and the wisdom to live well.

To demonstrate its long-term impact, Bevere presents the striking historical contrast between two American family lines. The first is that of Max Jukes, a 19th-century man described as an atheist who lived without regard for God. A study of over 1,200 of his descendants found a staggering legacy of dysfunction: hundreds were criminals, paupers, and prostitutes, costing the state of New York an immense fortune.

The second family line is that of Jonathan Edwards, a contemporary of Jukes and a devout theologian who lived in reverent awe of God. A similar study of his descendants found an entirely different legacy. The line produced hundreds of college presidents, professors, doctors, lawyers, authors, public servants, and even a U.S. Vice President. The contrast is a powerful illustration of the book's core message: a life lived in the awe of God creates a legacy of blessing that echoes for generations, while a life of irreverence leaves a legacy of brokenness.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from The Awe of God is that the fear of the Lord is not a destructive emotion to be suppressed, but a foundational virtue to be cultivated. It is a treasure that reorients our entire existence. This profound awe is what displaces all our lesser, crippling fears. It purifies our motives, protects us from hypocrisy, and paradoxically, opens the door to the deepest possible intimacy with God.

The book leaves readers with a powerful challenge to a culture that has often tried to make God more palatable and less majestic. It forces us to ask a difficult question: What if the key to overcoming our anxieties, finding our true purpose, and leaving a lasting impact isn't to eliminate fear, but to fear the right thing? What if embracing the awe of God is the one fear that truly sets us free from all the others?