How to Overcome Fear and Anxiety Through Faith: Jewish Wisdom for Uncertain Times

The chaos of today's world can cause us to feel a constant sense of fear and dread. As believers, the children of believers, how are we expected to view this reality?

There’s a well-known story about the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn (known as the Rebbe Rayatz), who was arrested by the KGB. As was their custom, the authorities tried to force him to reveal the names of Torah observant Jews involved in what they considered “religious activity,” a serious offense at the time. Throughout the entire interrogation, the Rebbe remained silent and didn’t divulge a single name.

The interrogator toyed with a gun in his hand and at one point said, “Do you see this weapon? It has made many people talk.” The Rebbe responded, “That weapon can only frighten someone who believes in one world and many gods, but not someone who believes in two worlds and one G-d.”

This story teaches us that deep faith and trust in G-d reduce fear. The greater the trust, the smaller the fear. In his classic work Mesillat Yesharim (The Path of the Just), Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto (the Ramchal) explains that G-d often brings frightening situations into our lives to help us realize how dependent we are on Him. As the sages said, “Thunder was created only to straighten out the crookedness in the heart.” When a person is walking alone in an open field and suddenly a storm breaks out with thunder and lightning, they instinctively feel humbled before the Creator of the universe.

The Talmud also states: “G-d made it so people would fear Him”—referring even to bad dreams. The underlying message is that fear, when channeled properly, leads us to look upward, to place our trust in something greater than ourselves.

The Chazon Ish, one of the great Torah scholars of the last century, once said that while we may pray for illnesses like cancer to disappear from the world, we should understand that if those fears vanish, they’ll be replaced by something else. This is because a certain level of awe—of divine consequence—is necessary in the world.

Different forms of fear exist to shake us up, to get us to recognize how fragile we are and how much we rely on G-d alone. The Pele Yoetz, a classic ethical work, addresses this directly in the entry on “Fear”: “In the Book of Job, it says: ‘What I feared has come upon me’. Living in fear of a specific outcome can actually draw that very thing into your life. On the other hand, King David said in Psalms: ‘His heart is steadfast, trusting in G-d…He will not fear.’ Fear can invite misfortune, but trust in G-d invites kindness.”

Similarly, the Talmud (Berachot 60) recounts how Rav Hamnuna told a man who sighed in distress: “Why are you bringing suffering upon yourself? Didn’t Job say, ‘What I feared has come upon me’?”

The Pele Yoetz continues: “It’s true—no one can control the wind, and telling someone ‘don’t be afraid’ won’t magically take the fear away. But one can work to calm their fear by redirecting the mind. Instead of focusing on what might go wrong, reflect on a higher fear: awe of G-d’s greatness and majesty. Shift your thoughts to something else entirely. The heart can’t hold two thoughts at once.”

What’s the use of fear? If a person is destined to face a hardship, it will come, and fear won't stop it. If it’s not decreed, then the fear is completely unnecessary. Worse yet, sometimes fear itself can invite suffering that wasn’t meant to be. We must therefore strengthen ourselves to be like a lion, trusting in G-d that no harm will come. Even if something was decreed, “Everything G-d does is ultimately for the good.”

Not fearing doesn’t mean ignoring the reality. One must act responsibly, pray before the crisis hits, give charity (which the sages say can annul harsh decrees), and then let G-d do what He sees fit. These are the words of the Pele Yoetz—a powerful and practical roadmap for uncertain times.

The Hidden Power in Moments of Fear

Let’s look at how a Torah giant faced fear in the most terrifying of circumstances. This story, recorded in the book Moach V'Lev (Heart and Mind), tells of Rabbi Chaim Shmuelevitz, a renowned spiritual leader, during his time in Japan in the early 1940s. At the time, he was under constant threat from the Japanese secret police. Even the smallest misstep could land someone in front of a firing squad, or in a prison cell deliberately infected with deadly bacteria.

Seven Jews imprisoned during that period died together in those cells. Simply hearing the word “gendarmerie” (the secret police) sent shivers down spines and made knees tremble. Before being summoned to an interrogation, Rabbi Chaim would say viduy (a personal confession of sins) and offer a heartfelt prayer that he not falter physically or verbally. “A moment of danger,” Rabbi Chaim would later say, “is a moment primed for prayer.”

In one particular instance, it seemed the authorities had truly found incriminating evidence. Rabbi Chaim was summoned by the Japanese police in Shanghai. He understood exactly what they wanted to know: How are 350 yeshiva students surviving without working? Everyone knew the grim reality—no one comes back alive from the third floor. Climbing those stairs, he was gripped with mortal fear. And yet, even then, he turned to G-d in prayer: “Master of the Universe,” he whispered, “if You choose me now as a sacrifice, I accept it with joy. But if You allow me to return alive, I ask You for three things: First, please release me from the crushing financial burden I’m under. Second, please help me merit marrying off my daughters to Torah scholars. And third, let me raise sons who become Torah scholars themselves.”

Those were the words Rabbi Chaim poured out in the face of death—a personal and direct conversation with his Creator.

These stories aren’t just legends or inspirational quotes, but a glimpse into the hearts of people who lived with real danger and yet chose trust over terror. Faith, for them, wasn’t a theoretical concept. It was a way of life, a lens through which they filtered even the most frightening experiences.

The author is the spiritual director of the Hidabroot organization and head of the Ahavat Torah Kollel.