How the "Fear of Man" Holds Us Back
Breaking Free from People Pleasing and Approval Addiction
Introducing the Fear of Man
As a recovering people-pleaser myself, I can vouch for the proverb that says,
Fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is kept safe.
Proverbs 29:25
We've all felt it, haven't we? That subtle, often unconscious pressure to blend in, to keep parts of ourselves tucked away
Especially when we fear judgement.
I don’t know exactly when this developed in me, but this quiet struggle—to be seen in the correct light or sometimes not to be seen at all—is very real. In my infancy, I would entertain the family with silly walks and funny comments. I look back on a child who was free to be himself, familiar with affirmation.
That feeling evolved from a childhood delight in making people laugh into a more complex dance with what the Bible calls the "fear of man." Was even that laughter-seeking an early sign of needing a "hit" of positive feedback? Maybe.
As I grew, I began to use humour to defuse situations or gain acceptance in school. Perhaps what started off as innocent entertaining got twisted out of shape somewhere during adolescence. Perhaps.
Bushel Boy
By high school, at just eleven, my heart was deeply committed to Christ. Yet, openly sharing my faith? That was firmly off the table. My agenda was clear: stay under the radar.
The Bible talks about not hiding your light under a bowl (bushel) or a bed, about dimming the light of faith that we are supposed to display to the world.
Matthew 5:14-15 states:
"You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl (bushel). Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house."
First, let’s clear up any misuse of verse 15. ‘Hiding your light under a bushel (bowl)’ has, at least in my experience, been used as an idiom referring to someone who has an ability they keep hidden, perhaps through shyness or excessive humility. However, these verses, as you read them in context within the Sermon on the Mount, use the metaphor to illustrate that Christians should not hide their faith or their good works. Rather, they should let them be visible and impactful, like a lamp illuminating a room.
I knew these verses full well in my teens, understanding that Christians have a responsibility to shine their light for the benefit of others, to live out their faith openly and actively, allowing their life to be a testament to their beliefs and ultimately a source of inspiration for others.
Looking back, I’d give myself in this stage of my life the nickname, "Bushel Boy."
I was desperately trying to fit in with the crowd. I knew I was in the minority as a Christian and was fearful of being ridiculed, singled out or asked questions I felt uncomfortable answering.
So, despite being a known church-goer, I painstakingly tried to prove that Christians were "normal." This meant going along with the crowd up until a point where I knew I shouldn’t cross the line—e.g., swearing, smoking, underage drinking, rude jokes…
I had fallen into the trap, or ‘snare’ as the Bible calls it, known as ‘fear of man’.
What is the "Fear of Man"?
As we have seen, Proverbs 29:25 states,
"Fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is kept safe."
Fear of man is essentially an unhealthy desire to please others. It involves altering ourselves in order to gain acceptance.
Human approval can be a trap, a very real snare that keeps us from living authentically and safely in God's will. Let me illustrate further from my own life.
You got religion?
The struggle even seeped into my church friendships. I vividly remember a Christian conference where three of us were in a games room, chatting around a table tennis table. Two of us were newly acquainted and getting along OK, although I was a little intimidated as I was the youngest of the three.
This new friend, mimicking a fake American accent, asked,
"You got religion, man?"
Meaning,
"Are you into this faith stuff like our parents?"
My instantaneous "No" felt awful, even though my brain, operating in survival mode, quickly rationalised it: "I don't 'got' religion, because I'm not religious; I'm a Christian, and that's a relationship, it’s not religion!"
I'd been correctly taught that as followers of Christ, we aren’t called to be traditionally ‘religious’ but to pursue a genuine personal relationship with the living Lord Jesus.
So I found my cool compromise.
I kept favour with my new friend, and I didn't technically deny my faith. So why did it gnaw at me? Perhaps Romans 1:16 was already tugging at my heartL
"I am not ashamed of the gospel..."
Fast-forward through the years, and you'd find me in various guises, still trying to fit in, still attempting to appear "normal" just in case people found out I was a Christian.
I mean, I didn’t really mind people knowing about my faith; it was just the misconceptions, the incorrect assumptions, the judgements people made when they found out I went to church.
Here's what still goes on in my mind when people learn I’m a Christian / go to church.
I assume one or more of the following:
They will ask me awkward questions that I may struggle to answer.
They now think I believe outdated myths.
They will patronisingly think how nice it is for me to have something to believe in.
They think of church as a cold, boring building on Sundays – why would anyone be involved in that?
They think that I believe because I was brought up as a Christian.
They think I’m not normal. (No comment.)
Because of all the above, I end up feeling like it would be better if I don’t get too involved with people, so I can avoid the awkwardness that happens when we come to a ‘red line’ that I don’t want to cross, like going out for multiple drinks or unethical practices at work, or that other awkwardness of difficult questions that make me feel vulnerable.
Even now, on a Monday morning, when someone asks about my weekend, my first thought is,
"How can I avoid mentioning church?"
It’s that lingering desire to escape being seen as some weird believer in an outdated, non-scientific, irrational system. Or more often, at the front of my mind, to avoid too many questions if they become interested. I know – I’m supposed to welcome questions so we can have dialogue and help people on their spiritual journey!
Please don’t judge me!
Perhaps you’ve also felt the weight of wanting to be accepted, leading you to dim your own light. This subtle pressure is truly a snare, keeping us from the freedom of who we are.
The Beast with Six Faces
This snare is cunning, and it captures us by manifesting in various deceptive forms.
Imagine a beast that constantly morphs its appearance to match our vulnerabilities, drawing us into its grip. This morphing beast of has six primary faces, each designed to ensnare us through a different form of human approval.
These are six ways in which I have observed, both in myself and others, the fear of man:
The Achiever: Seeks validation through accomplishments and striving for perfection, driven by the fear of being seen as inadequate.
The Accommodator: Gains approval by constantly catering to others and avoiding conflict, rooted in the fear of rejection or disapproval.
The Chameleon: Adapts personality and opinions to blend into any social setting, fuelled by the fear of not belonging or standing out.
The Peacemaker: Obsessed with maintaining harmony, often at the expense of truth, stemming from the fear of conflict or making others uncomfortable.
The Rescuer: Finds worth in solving others' problems and being indispensable, driven by the fear of not being needed or valued.
The Attention Seeker: Craves constant notice and validation from others to feel significant, born from the fear of insignificance or being ignored.
By understanding each of these insidious forms, we can begin to dismantle the snare they set in our lives.
Next time, I will begin to unmask these six faces in more detail, hoping that we can face the beast in its various forms and dismantle its subtle influence on our lives.
In the meantime, which of these "faces" resonates most with your own experiences, and how has it influenced your interactions with others?