Paralyzing fear

"I am most terribly afraid."

--Actor Gary Oldman, as British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, in "Darkest Hour" (2011).

"I've been in Vietnam and I was scared. I've been in Iraq twice and was scared on both deployments. But I am not afraid at Chautauqua."

--Rev. Paul Womack, military veteran and pastor, Hurlbut Church, Chautauqua, New York, on Aug. 14.

My wife and I have been coming together to 750-acre Chautauqua Institution, an arts and literary enclave located in western New York state, since 1981. Chautauqua is a quiet place, and we spend as much time as we can on its grounds.

On Aug. 12, as author Salman Rushdie was being introduced in Chautauqua's Amphitheatre, a young man rushed the stage and stabbed the famous writer at least 10 times, some accounts said 15 times. Rushdie, 75, is alive and recovering at the same hospital in which my wife, Lois, was born.

As it happens, we weren't present for the attack on that gruesome Friday morning. We had just left the grounds to visit the graves of my in-laws in nearby Pennsylvania.

When we returned later in the day, yellow police tape surrounded the 4,000-seat amphitheater. Virtually every program scheduled Aug. 12 and 13 had been canceled as Institution leadership grappled with how to respond.

New York Gov. Kathy Hochul made an unexpected appearance on the Sunday following the incident.

Rushdie has been living under a death sentence since the Ayatollah Khomeini ordered his killing after the publication of the India-born Muslim's 1988 novel, The Satanic Verses.

The irony is Rushdie, who was attacked while being introduced at Chautauqua, had come to speak about the literary freedom found in the United States.

The knife-wielding assailant, who had traveled by bus from New Jersey to carry out his evil deed, showed by his actions that freedom always comes at a cost.

Rushdie has remarked in the past that someone eventually would, as he put it, "get him," but the controversial writer said he was not prepared to live out his life in perpetual fear. Indeed, Rushdie traveled to Chautauqua, despite the Ayatollah's never-repealed fatwa, with no personal security in tow.

Fear is not stupid; it is often prudent.

To be paralyzed by fear is to be in a prison of one's own making, however.

Case in point.

We were warned, as a family, not to go to Israel in 2009.

It's dangerous, we were told. Buses get blown up on city streets there, we were advised. A rocket may get fired by Hamas into Jerusalem, we were reminded.

We went anyway.

My wife and our two then-teenaged daughters also came along.

We had a memorable time and never once felt in personal danger.

Of course, everything could have gone sideways in a moment if we had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You weigh the risks and make a decision.

I've tried on multiple occasions in the intervening 13 years to convince friends to join with me on a trip to the Holy Land.

No takers.

I get it.

Fear is not stupid; it is often prudent.

It can also be paralyzing and may become a prison of our own making if we give fear free reign.

Jesus, according to the New Testament, seemingly could walk into a crowd and smell the fear of those who had gathered.

"Let not your hearts be troubled and neither let them be afraid," the Master said. (John 14:27)