“The Courage to Love”
I John 4:7-8, 11-12, 16-18a; I Corinthians 13:1-8a
Rev. Dr. Deborah L. Clark
June 19, 2022
I was asking the wrong question. In preparation for today’s sermon, on this intriguing intersection of Father’s Day and Juneteenth, I interviewed four dads and one god-dad from our congregation. I was curious about how the realities of this complicated world shape how they parent and god-parent. I was intrigued to hear their reflections on anti-racist parenting. The conversations were rich and insightful; they were holy, for surely God is in the wisdom these men expressed.
My questions centered around our June Pentecost theme, “A Spirit of Courage,” with a focus on today’s theme, “The Courage to Love.” I had two questions about courage. The first one stirred lots of interesting insights. “What is it about being a parent that requires the most courage?” I asked.
Brandon Jones, husband of Kim Wronski, dad of 4-year-old Amelia and 1-1/2 year old Audre, talked about courage to let go. Even as the cultural story we tell is that our world is a much less safe place today than it used to be, Brandon watches his daughter making friends in their neighborhood and has to remind himself that is much safer her for her now than it was for him growing up. It takes courage, he told me, to “give Amelia enough space to make choices that could lead to her feeling hurt or disappointed or rejected.” He knows that kids her age are practicing being loving and accepting; they are also practicing exclusion. He understands that is normal. And there’s an extra edge to his concern: Amelia is “a black girl living in a place where there aren’t a lot of black girls,” he says. He would like to protect her from the pain of discrimination, and he knows there’s a limit to what he can do. “I find myself,” he says, “wanting her not to be burdened with having to wrestle and reckon with that, on the one hand, but I am also really struggling with not wanting her to be underprepared for the world.”
Cesar Stewart-Morales, who along with his husband Jeff is a Dad—Papi—to 10-year-old David, 6-year-old Daniel and infant William, also finds it takes courage to help his boys confront realities of difference and prejudice. There are times he has had to take the older boys aside and explain, “This is why this happened—because you have two gay dads.” He struggles with the impact his very public role as a Framingham City Councilor has. “Am I putting them at a disadvantage?” he asks himself, worrying that he has set them up to be teased. “Then,” he says, “I’ll go and see a situation of hate. We have to be public. We have to raise our voices.” It takes courage, he says, to “always put yourself out there.”
“Everything requires courage,” Jim Tanner told me. Jim and Danielle Rousseau are parents to 7-year-old Olive; they are so grateful that godparents Rick and Nicola Seaholm are central to Olive’s life as well. I had fun interviewing Jim and Rick together, hearing them reflect on their shared love for Olive and their shared appreciation of each other. Jim told me about a choice he made years ago: to approach life with the idea that everything is in your control in some way. He tries to be intentional about everything, including and especially being a dad. “I truly believe it all matters,” he says. “Everything is scary,” he adds, “when everything matters.”
Kyle Shepherd has the youngest kids in the group. Together with his wife Alicia, he does his best to keep up with 3-year-old Max and 6-month-old Hazel. A longtime rock climber—whose son has already absorbed this passion–, Kyle has thought a lot about fear and courage. He told me about a book called The Rock Warrior’s Way, by Arno Ilgner. The book prompts Kyle to think about having a “constructive relationship with fear.” If unexamined, fear can paralyze us. If we ignore fear, we get hurt. Instead, we are challenged to have a conversation with our fear, to see it as an advisor.
Courage, Kyle suggests, is when that constructive relationship with fear is combined with wisdom to know what’s worth taking a risk for. Courage enables you to take a risk in order to experience growth or accomplish something that matters.
For Kyle, the part of parenting that requires the most courage is accepting that, as he says, “You’re almost fully doomed to hurt and misunderstand your kids in some way…. In loving them, you’re also going to hurt them.” It takes courage, he says, “to keep choosing to love as best we can.”
That question about courage stirred all sorts of wisdom. It was my follow-up that fell flat. “What gives you the courage to love?” I asked. Each dad had thoughtful responses. No one was answering my question. Instead, they told me why it mattered to them to be courageous: they love their children—and god-child—so much. Kyle gently challenged the premise of my question: “I don’t know if anything gives you courage. You have to choose it.” Cesar talked about love as the source of his courage: “Being a parent makes me a more courageous person,” he says. “You have to put your own fears and concerns aside to take care of them. They depend on us. It gives me peace, or a purpose.”
I finally realized I had the question backwards—not “what gives you courage to love?” but “how does love give you courage?” In light of our conversations, I find myself wanting to rewrite both of our scripture passage. That line from the first letter of John about the relationship between love and fear is both inspiring and troubling: “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” Hmmmm…Love is a gift from God. Kyle reminded me that fear is also a gift from God, an advisor to help us navigate our world. Love without fear ends up being reckless. If I were the writer of I John, which I’m not, I might choose a decidedly less poetic statement: “God’s love inspires human love; human love inspires courage to make choices in the face of fear.”
And our reading from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians lists so many qualities of love—but it’s missing one. How about “Love is courageous.” Or even better: “Love chooses courage.”
How does this courage that comes from love play out in this chaotic, complex world where acts of hate and violence and injustice overwhelm us? I was curious about how these dads and god-dad –and their spouses—handle difficult conversations about the pain and injustice around us.
Their kids are all pretty young, with varying degrees of awareness of our global and national crises. Jim and Rick are grateful for the thoughtful ways Olive’s school talks about societal issues and the guidance they offer about age-appropriate language. Brandon senses that Amelia and Audre’s school doesn’t talk much about these outside forces; he is both grateful that his girls don’t have to be burdened at this young age and aware that other children don’t have that privilege.
As our conversations evolved, I began to see how, with young children, addressing these big global issues happens in small ways—in attending to their sense of self and their relationships. At this stage in their children’s development, the dads try to help their children learn to negotiate these smaller circles of family and friends.
As Brandon and Kim brace themselves for the reality that their girls will encounter racism and sexism, they focus on helping them build a strong sense of self-worth. Talking about Amelia, Brandon says, “Our approach so far is to really make sure she feels grounded in the idea that she is enough how she is, and everyone is worthy of being loved and is fundamentally good. Period.” They also have lots of books about historical figures who have paved the way, setting the stage for a deeper understanding of the injustices of the world and also of our capacity to be part of meaningful change. Aware that there are forces in the world that will try to put out the fire inside their daughters, Brandon and Kim try to help them practice being “full human beings”—with the full range of emotions.
Jim talked about the role models he and Danielle have intentionally surrounded Olive with—especially Rick and Nicola and this church community. All around her, in her yard on Sunday mornings, Olive sees what community centered on love, acceptance and appreciation can be like. “She knows she has love around her,” Rick says. “That’s the best we can hope for.” Rick told me about how she made sense of what she was learning in school about Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.—he was being picked on and he stood up for himself. When they walk around Provincetown and revel in the glorious diversity of that community, Jim and Danielle make a point of telling her stories of courageous people who fought for the right to be themselves. “We hope, that when she’s confronted with something unjust,” Jim says, “she can anchor in knowing … that we can change these things.”
Kyle connects his approach to raising anti-racist kids with helping them develop that constructive relationship with fear. He is trying to teach Max is to say he’s sorry when he’s hurt someone. Max’s initial reluctance helped Kyle realize that apologizing carries risk. When you say you’re sorry,” he says, “you’ve opened yourself up to not having an apology accepted.” He tries to teach Max, “Sorry doesn’t mean you’re bad; it means you care.”
As Max grows older and has lunch in the school cafeteria, Kyle hopes to teach him a reflective approach to very human social fears: “If you start to have class fear of associating with a group of kids, you need to think about what you are possibly cutting yourself off from…. Courage is facing that fear—facing people you think you have very little in common with until you find out you do.”
Cesar and Jeff are committed to having uncomfortable conversations with their boys. When they hear the boys say something they have picked up from TV or the school bus, they stop what they are doing and take the time to say, “That is making assumptions that might not be true.” At the core, they try to convey that the only expectation they have of their boys is “to be a good person and to be kind.” “That’s our way of simplifying it,” Cesar says. “They will be spreading kindness.”
I was struck by the ways the chaotic, complex, painful issues of our nation and our world become focused in small, concrete ways when raising young children. It’s all about building a strong sense of self, learning to take risks in relationships, challenging cultural norms, creating small communities of role models, telling stories of courage. I was also struck by how these basic principles radiate outward in ways that have the potential to change the world.
As we talked, Jim began to wonder out loud. Olive is surrounded by such an abundance of love. “How could it spill out to more people?” he asked. “We should not keep it all to ourselves.” Cesar named his challenge, as a public figure, to use his family’s experiences as an impetus to speak out for others whose voices may not be amplified. As a college-level psychology professor, Brandon challenges his students to identify and address systemic racism in their work. Kyle, talking about climate change, expressed his hope that his kids will be in awe of the wonder of this world and also “mad as hell” at the adults who have not cared for it. He hopes that, as old ways fall apart, this next generation will figure out new ways of living in community—a less consumption-focused world.
Wow! These dads and god-dad shared so much wisdom—about parenting, about facing a troubling and frightening world, about living with courage and love. How did you hear the voice of God speaking to you this morning, through their wisdom? Maybe you heard a sacred challenge to claim a constructive relationship with fear. Or a reminder that people in the past have worked hard to make changes, and we can too. Maybe you heard an invitation to surround yourself with good role models. Or a choice to focus your expectations of yourself on just being kind. A commitment to nurturing the flame inside the people you love. Whatever holy wisdom spoke to you today, I invite you to hold it tenderly, with gratitude.
Love is a gift from God. I am so grateful for the ways that gift gives these dads and god-dad courage to raise children who will be part of transforming our world. I am so grateful for the gift of God’s love, which gives us all courage to take risks for what matters.
Thanks be to God. Amen.