A leader's job is to decide what a frightened crowd is looking at, because that choice sets what they can do.
Whatever fills attention sets the state, and people staring at armed neighbors manufacture dread on schedule until their hands come off the wall. Aiming that attention twice, first at the Lord who is great and awesome, then at the specific faces of sons and daughters, crowds fear out instead of arguing with it, giving the mind something larger and something dearer to hold in the same breath.
Standing up to say it was half the work. A body that rises and a voice that carries transmit a state directly, and people copy the physiology of whoever looks least afraid. Left to its own focus, a frightened crew puts down its tools and calls the decision prudence.