First United Methodist Church, Birmingham, Michigan
Scripture: Proverbs 22: 6
The entire summer before I went away to college, my mother made me go to the basement and practice ironing my shirts. This was back in the day when mothers….at least my mother….ironed everything including tee shirts and shorts. If I ever had to be rushed to the hospital and have my clothes cut from my body in the Emergency Room, when the attendants got down to my underwear, they would find me not only clean, but pressed.
To be sure, fabrics were different then….styles were different then….and standards were different then. Words like “baggy,” “rumpled,” and “grunge” had not yet become part of the fashion scene….even the collegiate fashion scene. Go back to college yearbooks in 1958 and see how “pressed” everybody looked. In my early years at Albion, we had to wear coats and ties to the dining room for Wednesday supper and Sunday dinner. This practice carried over to the fraternity house. Like all fraternities, our house had its share of “animals.” But, in those years, they were very well-groomed animals.
It fascinates me that, in the summer of 1958, my mother’s greatest concern about my collegiate readiness was whether I could iron a shirt. Apparently, she felt no reason to worry herself over my study habits, my behavior quirks or my character flaws. Neither did she agonize over the temptations and dangers I would encounter at Albion, once I got there. She merely wanted me to look good.
Which I did. But not because of my ironing. To this day, I can still iron a shirt. Although I ironed my last shirt on or about September 17, 1958. After wearing and dirtying a week’s worth of shirts, I went down to the bowels of the building where I lived, thrust my quarters into the washer, surrendered my dimes to the dryer, and commenced to iron shirt number one. Which took twenty minutes. When the second and third shirt filled out the rest of the hour, a light came on in my pea-sized freshman brain. Which was the precise moment I discovered crew neck sweaters. With a sweater, all I needed to do was keep my collars clean. And as for dress shirts, I discovered that the Home Laundry (down at the end of Erie Street) would do five shirts for a dollar. Even though I was dirt poor at the time, I could occasionally come up with a dollar. Which was a lesson well-learned. Today, even though I am not terribly domestic, I know where to take my shirts. Which I do. Weekly. On my own. All by myself.
I tell you this for two reasons. First, to illustrate the fact that mothers have always been concerned that their off-spring be well-prepared to enter what is sometimes called “the real world.” Second, to illustrate just how much the “real world” has changed since 1958. Were I to gather all the mothers of teenagers and ask how many sleepless nights you have recently experienced worrying over wrinkles (not yours, but your teenager’s) you’d laugh me right out of the room. Not that you don’t care how your kids look. You do. But when measured against how your kids act….what your kids think….where your kids go….who your kids go with….and the degree to which your kids can be influenced to a point that will override rules, conscience and self-discipline….you’ll bend to the point of breaking when it comes to matters of their clothing. Whether it looks good is secondary to whether it covers up….or, more important still, to whether it stays on.
After reading this morning’s sermon title, Roger Wittrup sent me a wonderful e-mail entitled, “What to teach your kids before they leave home.” It also carried the subtitle “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if every 18-year-old could do the following?” It listed domestic skills, like cooking a full breakfast, sewing on a missing button and running a proper load of wash. Which was followed by a list of physical skills (like swimming half a mile and riding a bike with confidence), handyman skills (including the proper use and maintenance of tools), and practical skills (largely centering on the functions of automobiles and computers).
The list went on to address wonderful things like reading and folding a map….knowing what to do if stranded in a bad neighborhood….carrying on a fifteen- minute conversation with an adult you don’t know….balancing a checkbook (by hand or on line)….maintaining an address book, keeping an appointment calendar, and learning a game that can be played for life (like bridge or golf)….practicing basic first aid, CPR and the Heimlich maneuver (given that the life you save may be that of your mother or father).…typing with two hands….caring for a dog….entertaining a small child for a minimum of six hours….and telling a joke so that everybody gets it.
It was a wonderful list. But it was far from an inclusive list. For while all of those things can ease one’s transition into adulthood, they have more to do with ability than maturity. When we cry (in anguished frustration) to someone we love:“Will you ever grow up?”,we are talking about more than map-reading and checkbook-balancing. Instead, we are talking about the kind of person they haven’t become, the kind of character they haven’t developed, and the kinds of responsibilities they haven’t assumed.
“Train a child in the way children should go,” says the Bible, “and they will not depart from it.” Are we talking about the use of an iron, the folding of a map or the ins and outs of a checkbook? Well, yes….sort of. Don’t knock such things until you’ve seen a few kids who have grown up without having been taught such things. Irons are good. Roadmaps are good. Checkbooks are good. Why? Because looking good is good….finding your way is good….and being able to pay your way….that’s good, too. But what else? Well, there’s a lot “else.” But I can’t cover it all here. So let me start with this.
Teach them that the good life is more than the sweet life. They already have the sweet life. They already like the sweet life. They already assume the sweet life. But the good life is more than the sweet life. The good life is the moral life….the ethical life….the Jesus-serving, neighbor-loving, world-embracing, enemy-reconciling, let-go-of-the-self-in-order-to-gain-the-self-back life. Which is what we call the Christian life.
Just the other day, I read a line that I have not been able to shake from my brain. It came via a Christian Century article on Youth Ministry and quoted youth leader Mike Yaconelli. Mike lamented that one problem in Youth Ministry is the relatively low number of parents who place faith development as a high priority for their children. So what’s new? People were saying that when I was in Youth Ministry. I was saying that when I was in Youth ministry. I’ve heard Matt say it. I’ve heard Jeremy say it. I’ve even heard Chris Hall say it. So what else is new?
What was new is Mike Yaconelli’s next line. Let me lay it on you:
Today’s parents are very much in favor of Christianity as long as they think it is going to make their kid into a nice person. But as soon as it becomes genuine Christian faith, they start to worry. That’s because this generation of parents is very ambitious for their children and doesn’t want anything to get in the way of their future success.
Which returns me to my earlier word of counsel: “Teach them, by precept and example, that the good life is more….ever-so-much-more….than the sweet life.” I think you know the difference. But if you don’t, give yourself the following test. Listen to yourself talking with your friends. Hear yourself say: “My son is really doing well.” or “My daughter is really doing well.” Then ask what you hear yourself saying next (in describing what you mean by “well”).
Second (and this is only a two-point sermon), show them that the church represents the best-possible crucible in which lives can be formed, faith can be developed, friends can be found, life-styles can be practiced and decisions can be made.
Now I know that I’ve just caused your eyes to glaze over because you think that I am supposed to say what I just said. After all, I’m a preacher. Which enables you to discount my point….and discount me….because I’m being predictable. So let me step aside and let somebody else say it. That “somebody else” being Jim Balmer of Dawn Farm….a wonderful, residential recovery program for addicted teens. Jim was here last Sunday night to talk to our parents and kids. He brought some Dawn Farm kids with him. This was not his first visit to us, but his third. Meaning that we like Jim, and “in the midst of near-epidemic deafness in this arena”, we’ll hear him out.
The discussion was animated…. the questions tough….the responses honest….the truth, hard to digest. As much as every parent in the room longed to hear a single answer, Jim said that there are no simple answers that will keep young people from avoiding the temptation, the thrill, the peer pressure or the addictive rip (once hooked) or all the mood-altering substances available in today's youth culture.
He talked about the successes of AA, explaining that AA works because it takes the addict’s focus off of self….because it is built on faith….and because it offers a deep experience of community. Following which, he said, “To some degree, those rehabilitative factors can also work as preventative measures”….adding…. “You at First Church are already well-ahead of the deadly drug game when it comes to your kids. Why? Because you already have faith and community at work here (in your kids’ lives now.)” “It matters.” he said. “It really matters.”
Well, I think it does. In lots of ways. For lots of reasons. Is it automatic? No. Do we offer written guarantees? No. Is it statistically demonstrable? It seems so. Is there a better horse to bet on? I haven’t found one.
Lyle Schaller writes:
What churches do people join? They join churches that answer their most pressing questions. And for people born since 1955, the most pressing question is not: “What denominational label is on the side out front?” Instead, the most pressing concern is: “Can you help me find meaning in my life?” And the second, right behind it: “Can you help me raise my children?”
Churches have always answered yes to both….especially the second. Clearly, my childhood church helped my mother raise me. A lot of you had churches that helped your mothers raise you. But over the years, churches have slipped in that regard. Not intentionally. Indeed, rather accidentally. But unfortunately, lamentively.
Our church (meaning this church….meaning First Church) has had a long history of good stuff preparing some kids. When I got here, I found some very hard-working people involved in Christian- formation ministries. I am talking Sunday School teachers, youth leaders, those sorts of folks. But I also found smallish numbers of a sagging morale and a dirth of innovative programs. I found one minister giving half-time to youth, one person giving full-time to children and one Christian Educator giving full-time to children. And one secretary giving twenty hours to support those two. I also found a beautiful sanctuary, chapel, parlors and Fellowship Hall. But I found an incredible number of Sunday School rooms with walls, floors and furnishings that had not been updated in twenty-five years. In terms of Family Ministry, the best things I saw were the remnants of some young-mothers study groups started by Mildred Thomas. But Mildred died this year, at the age of 97. You do the math.
Today, there are six and a half full-time-equivalent staff members working with children and youth not to mention a trio of additional staffers involved in Adult Education. Every children’s room in this building has been redone and refurnished in the last five years. A beautiful new playground has been constructed. A bevy of new programs have been launched. A fresh round of parenting groups(for mothers with very little children) have begun. A dual-Confirmation process has been designed, involving both sixth graders and parents. And time would fail me, were I not to tell you about P. J.’s Diner, youth work camps in Detroit and Memphis or Jeremy’s wonderfully-imaginative Puppy Ministry.
Does any of it guarantee anything? Of course it doesn’t. Would anybody like to roll it back? I would be truly surprised. Hopefully, we are on the brink of funding and building a new Christian Life Center. It would be short-sighted, deceptive and just plain wrong to assume that it is only for children and youth. All of us will work there, play there, study there, worship there, eat there, walk fifteen-laps-to-the-mile there and do ever so much more there. But our kids programs (which are booming and burgeoning) will have room to sweat and bloom there. The construction of this new building will speak volumes to kids and parents for miles around. Many who use it will know why they are there. Others will start out by hanging out. But most of the followers of Jesus started out the same way. By hanging out, I mean.
· Teach them the good life is more than the sweet life.
· Showthem that the church is for them.
Two points. Kept by two quotes.
The first from Mary June Wilkinson who, in speaking to the amount of money that will be required, recently said to me: “It looks as if Bill and I will be spending another chunk of our childrens’ inheritance. Which is all right, given that the thing we most want them to inherit is the church.”
The second from Drew Priest-Grochowski. Drew is the sixth-grade son of Nanci Priest and Rod Quainton. He is also a current member of our seventy-kid Confirmation class. Most every day Drew shows up about 4 o’clock to shoot baskets in our present (undersized) Youth Center. Take a look at the ceiling. I would guess that a third of the marks are from Drew. The other night when his parents came home and told him about the plans for the building, he disappeared momentarily into his room. After rummaging around in whatever secret hiding places are known only to sixth-grade boys, he returned with a twenty-dollar bill and said: “Give them this from me.”
Well, what are we going to do? We could use it to buy a basketball. Or we could use it to buy an iron. My vote is for the basketball. Hopefully, mymother’s is, too.
