Chapter 2: Fear Revisited...

Proverbs 1 : 7

“The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction.”

Moose jolts awake.  For a moment he isn’t sure what pulled him from sleep—the cold of space, the hum of the tether, or the faint hiss of the engines still bleeding dark residue into the void.  He exhales slowly, breath fogging his visor, and stares into the finite stars of deep space—each one steady, silent, older than sin.

“CS01, you with me? Proverbs 1: 7.”  The comms crackle—thin static before and after his voice, like the sound of sand across glass.

“Here, Captain!” CS01 answers, tone bright but washed with digital noise.

”Art-bot, you with me?” Moose asks, turning back to the engines, scrubbing with slow, deliberate strokes—careful, meticulous, almost devotional.

“Morning, Captain.”  Art-bot’s auto-tuned voice cuts through the static, clean and melodic.  “I’m with you—systems online, sensors tuned, filter array steady.  The ship’s quiet except for the hum of CS01’s core and Q-bot’s early diagnostics pinging in the background.”  The bot keeps speaking while Moose works, her words like a heartbeat through the comms.  “Your vitals read calm. Engines idle. Coffee’s getting cold. What’s our heading today, sir?”

Moose smiles faintly, eyes on the slow swirl of black clinging to the hull.  “Today we start where we always start.  But I want to take a minute to think on Proverbs 1: 7.”

“Aye, Captain.”  Up on the bridge, Art-bot moves with practiced grace—her polished frame glinting in gold and silver light.  She opens several of Moose’s Bibles across the helm, fingers tracing old pages.  Her voice softens through the link.

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction.” — Proverbs 1 : 7

“Cut the engines,” Moose says.  He floats closer to the core, visor dimmed, eyes searching for the line between light and corruption.  The gold hum of CS01 fades to a reverent murmur; the ship’s breath slows, its pulse aligning with his own.  Art-bot dims the bridge.   A soft halo of gold rolls across the consoles, washing over open Scripture and polished steel.  Even Q-bot stills—her cyan optic steady, unblinking, like a candle flame refusing to waver.

“In Proverbs 1: 7,” Moose begins, voice low but clear through the comms, “the word used for fear is yirah in Hebrew.  It means moral reverence—respecting God, understanding who and what God is.  He is God—worthy of praise, worthy of honor, worthy of love and trust.  Those are frightening things, but not terror in the sense of dread… unless, of course, you’re an enemy of God or a demon.  Then terror is appropriate.”

He pauses, adjusting the tool in his hand, eyes tracing the faint swirl of dark matter retreating from the hull.  “Jesus reminded me in 1 John 4 of something John said that’s important.   Art-bot, turn there.  Verses 15 through 21.  Read it out.”

On the bridge, the android’s smooth metallic fingers brush across thin paper.  Pages whisper.

1 John 4: 15–21

“Whoever confesses that Jesus is the Son of God, God abides in him, and he in God.  And we have known and believed the love that God has for us. God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him.  Love has been perfected among us in this: that we may have boldness in the day of judgment; because as He is, so are we in this world.  There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment.  But he who fears has not been made perfect in love.  We love Him because He first loved us.  If someone says, ‘I love God,’ and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God whom he has not seen?  And this commandment we have from Him: that he who loves God must love his brother also.”

Art-bot’s voice fades into silence.  Only the quiet hum of the ship remains—soft, patient, holy.  Moose nods slowly, still watching the light bend around the dark residue.  “The word used for fear in that passage,” he says, “is phobos—alarm, fright, terror.”  He lets the words hang in the black, suspended between stars.  “It struck me,” he continues, “that the difference matters.  One kind of fear draws us toward God; the other drives us away.  Yirah bows the knee. Phobos runs.  Thank You, Jesus, for the clarification.”  He tilts his head back, eyes closed for a breath, tethered in quiet orbit—between the weight of Scripture and the hum of the eternal, Moose continues to scrub the ship’s engines.

Proverbs 3: 1-12

“My son, do not forget my law, but let your heart keep my commands; for length of days and long life and peace they will add to you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart, and so find favor and high esteem in the sight of God and man.  Trust int eh LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.  Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the LORD and depart from evil.  It will be health to your flesh, and strength to your bones.  Honor the LORD with your possessions, and with the first fruits of all your increase; so your barns will be filled with plenty, and your vats will overflow with new wine.  My son, do not despise the chastening of the LORD, nor detest His correction; for whom the LORD loves He corrects, just as a father the son in whom he delights.”