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First Presbyterian Church, Bridgeton, NJ
Richard E. Sindall, Pastor
Sermon for July 6, 2008
Lessons: Psalm 71:1-9, 17-18, I Timothy 4:12-16 and Matthew 18:1-5
Grace for All Generations
When a mother spends time gazing into her baby’s eyes and making faces with her child, she is doing something far more meaningful than we may realize, something as wondrous as the birth. A newborn knows nothing of the world, other people, or even herself. At first, she has only the “hardwiring” for certain biological events triggered by hunger or pain or whatever it is her parents can’t find that is “bothering her” at three o’clock in the morning. At first, she is not even selfish because she has not yet discovered herself. She has no sense of self and others. She still needs to find her toes and realize they belong to her. She also needs to recognize those who feed, change, and hold her, who sing to her and gaze into her face. This face-to-face interaction is the way one generation gives to the next its start in life as human, created in the image of God. The shared smiles, the wide eyes of surprise, and all those faces of feeling and empathy mother and child make back and forth to each other not only bond them, but give the baby her genesis as a person. Food is the nourishment that makes the infant grow as a being, but love is the face-to-face nourishment that enables her to grow into a person. What looks like fun, because it is, gives a great gift of God’s grace to the new generation.
I ask each new confirmation class some questions about themselves and their likes or dislikes in food, games or sports, TV shows, books, and school subjects. I follow up by asking what most makes them like or dislike a certain subject in school, and each class has answered the same: the teacher makes the biggest difference.
In one of our adult forums, we shared early experiences of “church” and had a few laughs along with many smiles of recognition at each other’s stories. When I asked our Visioning Team what they most remembered from childhood in the church, particular lessons taught in Sunday church school or the way people made them feel, guess which was their answer. People, not lessons as such, made the difference.
“God of generations, we are all your children.” We’ll sing those words shortly. Our scripture lessons call us to faith at every age and to empathy between generations. When his disciples argue over their relative importance, their pecking order, Jesus calls a child over and tells them, “Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Then, he adds, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.” To the young church leader, the apostle writes, “Let no one despise your youth.” And when we ache getting out of bed in the morning and it starts to hurt a little to do things we once accomplished with ease, we pray with the psalmist, “So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me.” “God of generations, we are all your children.” As long as we live, we are yours; and when we draw breath no longer, we will be yours still, face to face as it was when we first learned to be persons created in your image and likeness.
We call Jesus’ birth the Incarnation: God’s Son becoming human flesh and blood. That means Jesus became the face-to-face between God and humanity. He learned from Mary and Joseph and others to feel, to respond, to empathize. And looking into his face, people who had lost hope for themselves discovered the face-to-face compassion of God.
But the psalmist says more. I did not finish the sentence, and we need to complete it: “So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to all the generations to come.” God gives us generational responsibility, which we need to embrace and fulfill. Generational responsibility is crucial to families, neighborhoods, churches, and nations, but it’s broken in our society. No generation exists just for itself but for the generations that follow it. Immigrants have long been our pattern here in America: the first generation struggles and suffers indignities so the children and grandchildren may prosper in freedom. But there’s more to generational responsibility for God. We cannot just provide a future for our children and grandchildren, just hand it to them. This is a face-to-face matter that includes mentoring as well as providing. One generation needs to enable and empower the next, all the while setting the younger increasingly free from control, without taking away love and concern.
But, we consume like there’s no tomorrow, and if we do not soon change our habits, there may be no tomorrow with today’s freedom and possibilities. For example, just one of countless examples, who is going to clean up the massive accumulation of plastic in the Pacific Ocean that is already bigger than our contiguous 48 states? Plastic the size of a continent! What kind of shovel will serve? But our ecological havoc is only one part of the problem. For me, an even more biting question is, Why are the generations so divided, so fearful and defensive, so scornful of each other?
Daily, I see the bumper stickers calling upon us to “support our troops.” Those “troops” are human beings, persons under the uniforms, and we need to see them face to face, as persons see each other. We need to see them face to face and recognize our sons and daughters, not as heroes in our fantasies about war, but as human beings who have lived through what we haven’t even watched from afar. We don’t even need on this 4th of July weekend to go as far as talking about God’s children who speak Arabic, Persian, or Hebrew. We are not even accepting generational responsibility for our own sons and daughters.
There are two facts of life we tend to ignore as much as we can. Generations do pass, and new generations make changes. Yes, the passing is sad, and it should be grieved more than it is. And, yes, the rate of change has accelerated almost out of control. In tribal societies, children looked, lived, and thought much the same as their parents and grandparents had. We don’t live in a tribal society, and change happens so rapidly and constantly we can’t keep up, and we can’t stop it. We’re less likely these days to wonder what’s new than what’s stable. Where is the constant, the reliable, the firm foundation, the rock upon which to build in the midst of shifting sands?
The standard Christian answer, too easy and too glib, is that Christ is the firm foundation, and the word of God the rock upon which we stand. But Christ lives, and he calls us forward. God’s word creates and transforms; it does not sanctify things as they have been for any one generation. God gives us hope, and hope spells change. What is constant is the love that goes with us, stays with us, and holds onto us, but it does not leave us where it found us. So, what we need to give and share is love that stays with our children but does not try to bind them to our past or make them carry on our lives for us.
As we age, how do we relate to the up-and-coming generations? Do we delight in their progress or try to hold them back? Do we open doors for them or shut the doors in their faces? Do we become the old guard, or do we use what we have learned and been given to mentor rather than control? With age and experience come possibilities, not for playing the one in the know who says condescendingly, “I’ll tell you how it is, sonny (or missy),” but the guarantor who represents the living possibility of hope and the mentor who encourages development by enabling and empowering rather than restraining.
“Change is inevitable,” the saying goes, then notes, “Growth is optional.” I would add, “Mentors wanted.” Not managers, mentors. We delight in a baby’s first steps. Can we also delight in leadership steps taken by young adults? No, they won’t do it our way, but we can help and encourage them to do it their way, for Christ.
The thing to do with God’s grace received is first to give thanks and, then, to share it. God has given us generational responsibility. So, along with taking comfort in the familiar, we need to find delight in the new brought by younger generations and other newcomers. The Bible balances comfort with challenge, but the edge always goes to challenge, to hope, to transformation, to healing – to change as we move together toward God’s future. Carolyn Gillette’s hymn we’re about to sing concludes, “Old and young, we follow, hand in hand together; At every age, Lord, we belong to you.” May “Amen” mean more than just the sermon’s finished. Amen.