FEAR OF FIRE
Matthew 10:26-3

A sermon given by the Rev. Richard H. Taylor
May 8, 2005 / 7th Sunday of Easter

Break forth, O beauteous heavenly light, and bring some of God's confidence and joy to our benighted world!

We need some confidence and joy, because we seem to be living in a world of fear.

I got to thinking about this during the winter when we were getting inspections by the fire marshals. Rhode Island seems to be afraid of fire. The new Rhode Island fire codes are particularly hard on churches. We are somewhat in an enviable position. Because of our Access campaign, we already have two-thirds of our building up to the new codes. Many churches are in a real problem, with no source of the tens of thousands of dollars they will need. The code falls particularly hard on churches that were once large, and had large parish halls with big capacities, and their congregations are now small and/or poor. Rigid enforcement of the new codes could force some churches to close.

Both of our homeless shelters here at Beneficent, in the Round Top Center and Palmer House, were cited this winter. One citing insisted that that shelter shut down immediately. But you know, we have also had homeless people in Rhode Island die from freezing and exposure in the last few years. The State seems much more concerned and fearful that they might die from fire, than that they might die from freezing and exposure. We have been visited by the fire inspectors. But we have never been visited by the State inspectors to keep people from freezing, nor by the State inspectors to keep people from going hungry, nor by the State inspectors to keep people from getting an inadequate education.

We seem to be much more afraid of fire. How do we choose our fears? Why are we more afraid of one thing than another thing? Are our fears more emotional than rational?

Why has the fear of fire become such a burning issue in Rhode Island? Of course it has a lot to do with the Station Night Club fire. It has a lot to do with liquor and pyrotechnics, and cutting corners. But does our fear of fire come from a more primitive place? Does it come from all of those preachers who have threatened that we might burn in hell forever? Does it come from Dante's Inferno? Does it come from the book of Revelation? We seem to be inordinately afraid of fire. Much more afraid of it than we are of hunger and homelessness, or exposure and freezing, or even of preemptive war. Why are we afraid of what we are afraid of?

One example that really caught my attention was the first public act of the new Secretary of Education, Margaret Spellings. The day after she took office she immediately announced that she was considering withdrawing funding from the Public Television children's program, Postcards from Buster. Postcards is a program in which an innocent looking rabbit, travels to various places to explain to children different cultures and different occupations in various places. Secretary Spellings was particularly incensed with a program that took children to Vermont where they learned about maple sugaring. What got her anger up was that in the show some of the local children went home where they had two mothers who were in a Vermont Civil Union. Secretary Spellings did not want children around the country to see that some children have two mothers and report that they have a loving family.

What is Secretary Spellings afraid of? Even if you have questions about the nature of family structures, wouldn't it be best for children to know that some children in their classrooms, or in their neighborhood might live in a different kind of home? Wouldn't that help parents to prepare children for the variety of families that children might encounter? Wouldn't such knowledge prepare children for understanding? Wouldn't such knowledge help us to avoid potentially embarrassing, demeaning, or even violent confrontations?

What is Secretary Spellings afraid of? With all the issues facing American schools, why is this the first issue she seeks to address in her new position? What does she consider education to be - keeping the truth from children?

The fact of the matter is that some people in this room already grew up with two mothers. One was called the biological mother, and the other one the step mother. Some of us, for reasons based on more than the stereotypes from the Cinderella story, were loved by one mother, and disdained by the other. Blessed were those with two mothers, where both loved their child. And blessed be the children of Vermont who have two mothers and both love their child.

You know, there are all kinds of families. Some of us come from single-parent families. And there are all kinds of single-parent families: some where a parent was lost in a tragic way; some where a child never even known who their other parent was; some where the other parent continues to love the child, and the child has two homes; and some where the other parent has walked away and abandoned their off-spring.

And some of us come from two-parent families. Some two-parent families hate each other with a vengeance and often turn it on their children. Some two-parent families include an abuser. And some of us have had two parents who really loved us, who cared, who stuck with us through all kinds of eccentricities, who have kept on loving. God bless the child who's got his own.

And some of us have been adopted. And some of us have been foster children. And some of us have lived in orphanages.

There are all kinds of families. And I think the way that any child will learn, and grow, and mature, and find out how to think about their peers, the child down the street, the friends they have: is that other children come from different kinds of families, all different kinds of families. And we learn to love our friends in the real context of the world from which they come.

But what we need to learn the most in this is that love makes a family. Those of us who had mothers that loved us love our mothers because of that love. Those of us who have something to celebrate today on this "Festival of the Christian Home," can celebrate because we have had love in the past, or we have it now, or we are able to give it now.

But most of all: it is love that makes a family. To a Christian in particular, it is love that makes a family. It is not the number of parents, or the gender of the parents, or the biological inter-connectedness that makes a family Christian. It is the love of a family that makes a family Christian. It is the agape concern, the genuine affection, the desire to follow in the grace-giving ways of Christ that makes a family Christian.

So what are we afraid of? Why are we do afraid of even letting children know that there are differently parented families? Why are we so afraid of fire? Why are we not afraid of that which destroys the human soul?

So I say to you, no matter what kind of a family you have come from, no matter what kind of experiences you have had, "do not be afraid, you are of more value than many sparrows."

The real text of this sermon is built on Jesus' words in the Gospel. Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid. I find them beautifully reflected in these words from John's first letter: "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear..." I don't know what the world is afraid of. But this is what I know: "Perfect love casts out fear."

Love makes a family.

So this Festival Day, honor your family by honoring other families.

And honor your mother by honoring other mothers. Introduce your children and grandchildren to other mothers. Tell them about families of all kinds.

Help them to learn respect and not fear. For remember, perfect love cast out fear.

Amen.