A Sermon about Love and Baltimore

On Sunday, May 5^th, Turner Chapel AME invited my church, Crestline First United Methodist, to a joint worship service at their church.  It was an awesome celebration of our unity in Christ!  Below is my sermon.  

No Fear!

1 John 4:7-21

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.

Since becoming a parent six and a half months ago, fear has taken on a whole new meaning for me.  I wouldn’t say I’m consumed by it, but I do see danger everywhere.  Plop the baby on the bed for a minute?  Danger!  He might roll off.  Take the baby outside?  Danger!  He might get cold.  Baby’s gonna walk soon?  Danger!  We need a fence to keep him in the yard!  I want to protect my son, but there comes a point where I just turn into a crazy mama bear.  I used to make fun of my mom for doing the exact same thing.  When I was a teenager she’d clip newspaper articles about young women who’d been attacked to our bathroom mirror to remind my sister and me to never go out alone at night.  We thought she was crazy—but now I’m the crazy mom.   And now my mom makes fun of me!

Before my husband Joe and I moved to Crestline, we lived in Washington, DC for 5 years.  Joe taught at a public school in the city, and in 2010 we bought a house just down the road from his school.  It was a neighborhood that wasn’t considered the best.  There had been some recent shootings in the area, and I admit to being a little scared.  There were some things I avoided doing, like walking to the Metro by myself after dark.  But we got to know our neighbors, and they got to know us.  When we walked to the grocery store, people said hi, and we said hi back.  We came to really love our neighborhood.  Several years later, when we announced we were moving to Ohio, well-meaning friends and family members said “DC’s not a place you’d want to raise a family, anyway”—but I couldn’t help thinking they weren’t exactly right about that.  Yes, there may have been a little more crime in our neighborhood—and of course I want to protect my children—but I think growing up in a multi-cultural environment where we could sit on the porch and chat with neighbors from Ethiopia and El Salvador—people who looked different from us and had different life experiences---would be an awesome gift to our kids. 

Now my son is a white male, and I want him to be aware that he’s been born into privilege.  I want to protect him, but I also don’t want him to live in fear of his neighbors.  Journalist and Mom Sandi Villareal puts it this way: “I want my children to be smart about their surroundings, but I don’t want them to fear everything and everyone around them.”  And then she asks the question, “Where does ‘stranger danger impede ‘love your neighbor?’”

Where does stranger danger impede love your neighbor?  I think that’s a question we should all be asking.  Are there times when our fear of the stranger blocks us from obeying Jesus’ command to love our neighbors?

1 John 4:18 says that “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”  Our text for today also says that God is love, that God loves us—and through Christ, God makes it possible for us to love one another, despite our sin and brokenness. 

You’ll notice John doesn’t mince words.  In verse 20 he says “If anyone says, I love God, and hates a brother or sister, he is a liar.”  If we say we love God, but hate a brother or sister, we are liars.  We may think, well, I don’t hate anybody, and I’m certainly not a liar!  We’re not haters—we’re good churchgoers--so good we’ve gone to church twice in one day!  But when we fear someone, hatred is not far off.  In his sermon “The Mastery of Fear,” the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. put it this way: first comes “fear, then hate, then war, then deeper hatred.”  Fear—even the tiniest, most innocent-seeming type of fear—can lead us to hatred—and we need to watch that.

This week you couldn’t turn on the news without seeing images of rioting and looting in Baltimore after Freddie Gray was arrested and died while in police custody.  If you google “Baltimore” and “Freddie Gray,” hundreds of stories and images pop up—from stories about the riots to stories about misconduct and potential misconduct in the Baltimore police department.  You have to work a lot harder to find stories of the peaceful protestors, like the group of 55 United Methodist clergy who walked the streets of Baltimore singing hymns and praying for peace.  You have to work hard to read about the churches who rallied to feed children who rely on school lunches every day, while they were out of school.  You have to look hard to read about the pastor, a former gang member, who went out to the streets to urge gang members to avoid violence—and even the current gang members who tried to stop the violence!  And you have to look real hard to find the many stories of people who fight for justice and peace in Baltimore and cities around the country every single day—government workers, churches and non-profit organizations, counselors and teachers, and moms and dads and grandparents—and yes, police officers.   

The media knows that fear is one of our most basic instincts.  They know what images trigger our fears and our fascination with violence—and we do have a fascination with violence--and they know those stories will get the most hits.  Don’t get me wrong—we need to be informed about what’s going on, and journalists have a critical role to play in that.  But many news outlets know just how to pull our triggers.  Someone from church recently shared an article on Facebook about how we can make an idol out of fear—the devil knows we’re afraid, and he’ll use our fears to keep us from loving as Jesus wants us to love.  Right?  He knows how to get at us.  So I want to urge you, as followers of Christ, to be aware of what you’re watching—to be aware when you are thinking and talking and responding, not out of a place of love, but out of a place of fear.  In the words of 2 Timothy 1, verse 7 “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and a sound mind.”   God has not given us the spirit of fear—but of love.  So test your thoughts—and if you find fear, pray that God will cast it out and fill you with love instead. 

“Perfect love casts out fear.”  If we read the news and feel our anxiety rising—fear of neighbors, or enemies near and far, or fear for the future—we need to get on our knees and pray that God will make us perfect in love—“For those who fear have not been made perfect in love.”   Really, we should get on our knees even if we don’t feel afraid—and pray for God’s love to fill us and the entire world.     

I am well aware that I’m speaking as a white woman—and that there are some very real fears and dangers that some of you have had to deal with in your lives that I can only imagine.  But what I can do as a white woman is pray for justice and peace—and work hard in my life to try to get to know people who come from different backgrounds than me.  I can seek understanding, and pray for God’s mercy when I fall short.

The first day I started my job as the pastor at our church, I met a black man named Kenny from Daytona, who had traveled up here to work for a friend painting the outside of our church.  Every day Kenny and I talked for a few minutes, and we got to know each other a little bit.  One day, I noticed Kenny was taking a break, and I asked if I could sit and eat lunch with him—so we sat outside and chatted over a meal.  Months later he told me he had never had lunch with a white person—and that people were driving by and staring at the two of us out there on the church lawn.  When he told me that, I thought, “What century are we living in, that it’s so unusual to see a black person and a white person having a meal together?”

I’m not telling this story to champion myself as some amazing, barrier-breaking person—because I know I’m not.  I am well aware of my own fears, and I’m well aware of how short I fall from the love that Jesus calls me to.  But I’m telling you this because I believe that each time we go out of our way to get to know someone who’s different from us, we are getting to know a beloved child of God—and we’re witnessing, whether we know it or not, to the boundary-breaking love of God in Christ Jesus.  Isn’t that what followers of Christ should be all about?

I mean think about Jesus’ life.  Did he live in fear of strangers?  No!  His ministry was all about breaking social and religious and ethnic barriers—at a time when Jews were supposed to stay away from certain people, he spoke with and had table fellowship with women, and Samaritans, and all kinds of people who were supposed to be off-limits.  Jesus came to proclaim that God’s love and forgiveness was not for just a chosen, select few—but for all.    

As I look at you all today, I think about how we originally planned to have this service in February, then April— and now here we are on Sunday, May 3rd—and I don’t believe it’s an accident.  I believe the Holy Spirit gathered us together on this day, so we can be a witness of Christ’s love that casts out fear, one week after Freddie Gray’s death in Baltimore.  I believe the Spirit has called us together to say to each other “You are a beloved child of God, and I love you.”  I believe the Spirit has called us here to ask for forgiveness for the times when we’ve let our fears take over.   And I believe the Spirit has brought us together so we can pray for peace for the people of Baltimore—and for our nation. 

God loves each and every one of us, and God’s perfect love casts out fear.  Sisters and brothers, let’s throw off our fears and be free—full of the love and grace of our resurrected Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Let’s pray. 

kidney bean curry

Kidney Bean Curry (a la Smitten Kitchen)

1/3 c. extra virgin olive oil

¼ c. grated or chopped fresh ginger, or ½ tbs. or so dried

1 onion, diced

1 plum tomato, diced (I used a 10 oz. can of diced tomatoes with chilies)

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 large green chili, minced (I used a red thai chili)

½ tsp. salt

1 tsp. ground cumin

1 tsp. ground coriander

½ tsp. ground cumin

½ tsp. turmeric

¼ tsp. cayenne

Pinch or two of ground cardamom

8 oz. can tomato sauce

3 15 oz. cans red kidney beans (2 drained, 1 undrained)

1 cup water

Chopped cilantro, for serving

Heat oil over medium heat.  Add ginger (if using fresh), onion, garlic, & chili, and cook for a minute or so.  Add the spices (including ginger, if using dried) and cook until fragrant, about one minute.  Stir in tomato sauce, cooking for 5 minutes.  Stir in beans, tomatoes, and water.  Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes.  Serve over rice with cilantro (we put some Greek yogurt on top as well).

Source: Smitten Kitchen

family celebration weekend

This weekend my sister and brother-in-law flew in from Chicago for a DC adventure.  Saturday morning we fueled up with apple fritters from Heller’s bakery, then headed out for a day on the town.  We began our pilgrimage at Union Market, a veritable wonderland for food lovers.  The market is filled with fresh produce, local meats & cheeses, teas, coffee, and a variety of food vendors.  Our adventure began with a crisply-fried chipotle beef empanada at DC empanadas.  I washed that down with a velvety macchiato, courtesy of peregrine espresso, before trying the delicious Korean barbecue tacos at TaKorean.  We closed out our visit with a refreshing egg cream at the Buffalo & Bergen soda fountain.

To burn off our morning calories we strolled through the National Arboretum, checking out the columns from the first capitol building and exploring their vast collection of Bonsai trees, one of which has been “in training” since 1625!

On the way home we returned to the market, where we purchased fresh sausages (including blood sausage) and bacon from Red Apron Butchery, as well as some fresh broccoli rabe.  When we arrived at home my brother-in-law’s friend was waiting on our front steps.  We sat in the sun, grilled some sausages, and enjoyed the rest of the evening at home.

Sunday we went to church, ate lunch in Barracks Row, and bought some coffee and home-made pop tarts at Spring Mill Bread Co.  We headed home for a nap, baked a birthday cake, ate some Middle Eastern takeout, and watched the Hobbit.  Food, friends and family--what a wonderful way to spend a weekend!

citrus & cocoa

It is God's gift that all should eat and drink and take pleasure in all their toil.

-Ecclesiastes 3:13

Here we are, at the beginning of Lent, and since Ash Wednesday (less than a week ago) I have baked two sinful desserts.  Joe is abstaining from sweets.  Me?  After reading an article a friend sent me about how women should eat chocolate in moderation every day during Lent, I decided to give myself a little break.

I made the following cupcakes for a co-worker, but couldn’t resist testing one before sharing.  Don’t be fooled by the lame photo.  They are delicious. 

Orange-Chocolate Chip Cupcakes

Ingredients

Cupcakes:

1 c. all-purpose flour

1 ½ tsp. baking powder

1/8 tsp. salt

5 tbs. unsalted butter, softened

½ c. sugar

1 large egg

Finely grated zest of 1 orange

½ tsp. vanilla extract

½ c. whole milk

½ c. mini semisweet chocolate chips

Chocolate ganache (see below)

Chocolate ganache:

¾ c. mini semisweet chocolate chips

¼ c. heavy cream

To make cupcakes:

Preheat oven to 350˚F.  Sift flour, baking powder, & salt into a bowl.  Beat the butter & sugar with an electric mixer on med-high speed until fluffy, 2-3 minutes.  Beat in zest, vanilla and egg until just combined.  On low speed, add dry ingredients and milk, one after the other, in three batches.  Mix until just incorporated.  Gently fold in chocolate chips.

Spoon about ¼ cup of batter into each of 12 paper-lined muffin cups.  Bake in center of oven 20-25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Cool on wire rack.

To make ganache:

Place chocolate chips in a bowl.  In a small saucepan, bring cream to the simmer.  Pour cream over chocolate.  Let stand for a minute or so, then stir the mixture until smooth.  Spread over cooled cupcakes.

Makes 1 dozen cupcakes.

Source: The Gourmet Cookbook, Ed. Ruth Reichl (2004)

neighbors

Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil.

For if they fall, one will lift up the other...

-Ecclesiastes 4:9-10a

Yesterday was a beautiful day—sunny and breezy.  I went for a run in my neighborhood, enjoying the strange winter warmth.

As I neared my house I saw a woman working in her garden.  I met her once before, maybe a year ago, while talking to another neighbor, but didn’t know her name.   Normally I don’t go around introducing myself to people, but on this occasion I felt compelled to say hello.  We talked briefly and I learned that she is an artist from Spain.  When I told her I want to learn Spanish, she offered to help.  She said she is often home alone during the day, and would enjoy the company.  After more chatting we exchanged phone numbers and agreed to meet.

I am excited about the possibility of a new friendship.  This past week I met three “new” neighbors—neighbors who have been there as long as I’ve lived here.  My encounters with them made me think about connection, how sometimes we are so close to people and yet don’t know them.  I have spent a lot of time in the past few months home alone and wanting company.  Little did I know there was a person just a few houses down feeling the same thing.

I talk to my next door neighbor all the time.  We sit on our respective porches (our houses are connected), and I pet her dogs while we chat.  Sometimes I’m later to work than I’d like because I can’t resist stopping and talking.  It’s worth it to take the time and build that connection.  My neighbor Gary always says you need to talk to your neighbors.  You never know when you might need them.  I would add that you never know when they might need you.

My next door neighbor was on her porch talking to Gary when I got home.  I had things to do, but couldn’t resist hanging out with them for a little while.  I’m glad I did.

in the silence

Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.   When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’

-1 Kings 19:11-13

Over the past few weeks—or months—I’ve bathed myself in noise.  The computer/TV has been a constant—and the sound of teeth crunching on potato chips and candy.  I spend much of my alone time avoiding silence. 

While preparing for my monthly article club, I heard Wendell Berry read his poem “How to be a Poet.”  “Sit down…Be quiet...Breathe with unconditional breath/the unconditioned air.”  The final stanza reads:

Accept what you can from silence.

Make the best you can of it.

Of the little words that come

out of the silence, like prayers

prayed back to the one who prays,

make a poem that does not disturb

the silence from which it came.

I am not much of a poet, but for me this one could be titled “How to Pray.”  I avoid silence because I know God is there, in that sacred space where I am exposed—where I see things about myself I do not like.  Yet there is also grace in the quiet.

This year I am working half time.  My friend Melanie had a similar year after seminary, and said it was a time to learn that her identity is separate from what she does as a living.  Yet when I have space I want to fill it—whether with “productive” things like working on the house, doing my job, or training for a marathon; or my more frequent temptation: watching trashy TV. 

This week I’ve tried to be silent, just a little—to pray with words, then be still.  Most times I don’t hear anything.  A lot of times I fall asleep.  Sometimes I go back to the TV to reward myself.  Yet good things do seem to emerge. 

I’m not always good about committing to things, but this year I’m going to try and be a poet. 

a goodnight song

Let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation.
-Psalm 95:1b