(A Sermon for Graduates and Confirmands)
Dr. William A. Ritter
First United Methodist Church
Birmingham, Michigan
Scriptures: Matthew 7:24-27, I Corinthians 10:23, Philippians 2:1-5
Seeing as I no longer have kids of my own at home, it’s nice to have four next door. I am serious. I’ve got four great kids one house to the north of me. Two of them are in grade school….two, in middle school. Three of them are boys….one is a girl. They have taken me to school as their guest on “Special Visitor Day.” They have sold me more cups of lukewarm Kool-Aid than I ever knew I needed. And I even enjoy the footballs, soccer balls, baseballs and tennis balls that come flying across the yard, especially when accompanied by the phrase “Catch this one, Dr. Ritter.”
But they’re not here this summer. In their house, I mean. Their house is being remodeled on the way to being doubled. So they have moved out to a rental house a few blocks away.
But they were back last Tuesday evening. They were in their rooms….on the second floor…. calling to me through open windows: “Hi, Dr. Ritter. Good to see you, Dr. Ritter. Have you missed us, Dr. Ritter? Betcha can’t guess what we’re doing, Dr. Ritter. We’re demolishing our rooms. Our dad said we could.” And so they did….with great relish. They were having a wonderful time, finding the act of demolition to be one of the coolest things in the world. Obviously, their folks figured: “Hey, it’s all going to be redone anyway. Why not let them have at it….crayons on the walls….hammers on the walls….whatever on the walls.”
While you ponder the parental wisdom involved, let me hasten to add that these are great kids. They have respected property before. They will, no doubt, respect it again. But for one night, they were given carte blanche to go a little wild and be a little reckless.
I can identify with that. In my Steeple Notes letter, I told about the time I participated in a one-day work project with a group of Methodist Men from Newburg Church. They were going to tackle several construction projects on an inner city house. But one of those projects, building a new porch, required demolishing an old porch. Which task they assigned to me. And with a sledgehammer in one hand and a crowbar in the other, I was a one-day wonder. What’s more, I had a blast. And I was 35 years old at the time.
My sermon title talks about a demolition derby. Which, for all I know about it, is something of a car race. Except you drive old cars that have already taken a beating….and have been rebuilt (in strategic places) so they can take an additional beating. Which means that you win a demolition derby, not by having the fastest car (none of these cars are fast), but by having the most durable car. The theory being: “If you can’t beat ‘em, hit ‘em.”
Which may not sound like fun now, but I’m willing to bet it was fun once. I’m talking about the days of your youth, when you went to the amusement park, paid your quarter (or dollar) and rode the dodge ‘em cars. There you were….out on that floor….connected to an electrified grid in the ceiling….seated behind the wheel (long before you were old enough to drive, legally). And you had two choices as the driver. You could try to steer around everybody. Or you could try to steer at everybody. For while you could log more distance steering around people, you could have a lot more fun steering at them.
Demolition! It fascinates all of us. Even the oldest among us. Which explains why we all tuned in our television sets on the day they imploded Hudson’s. Someone said that the television coverage of that event drew the highest ratings of the month….to watch a building get blown off the face of the earth. And what of those charity fundraisers where, for five dollars or five hundred dollars, they’ll give you a sledgehammer and let you take a swing at a brand new Jaguar?
In controlled settings, demolition can be great fun. But in uncontrolled settings, demolition can be painfully fast. Picture this scene. You are out on the beach. You spend virtually all day sculpting a sand city. You’ve got your castle….your tower….your moat….your fort. You’ve got roads and houses. You’ve got rivers and bridges. You’ve got water flowing in and water flowing out. It’s magnificent. Everybody on the beach says so. Except for the bully….who runs at it….jumps on it….and, just like that, it’s history. Five hours to create. Five seconds to cream.
Then there’s the museum masterpiece, valued in the millions. One talented artist, with paintbrush and palette, pours everything she has into its creation. But one slasher….with one knife….hidden in one trench coat….using one swift arm motion….turns creation into destruction, just like that.
I was talking about these ideas with my daughter (Julie) over long-distance telephone. Which led her to come up with this one (not because she’s lived it, but because she’s seen it….plenty). A family works with a daughter for 17 years, nurturing self esteem and coaching confidence. But it all comes undone when she falls in love with (and is misused and dumped by) one rotten boyfriend halfway through her freshman year.
Demolition happens. And when you are the demolishee, rather than the demolisher, demolition hurts. I wish I could tell you that because of your relationship with Jesus Christ….because of your membership in a Christian church….because of your familiarity with Christian scriptures…..and because of your companionship with Christian friends….nothing hurtful will ever happen to you. But I can’t. It will. There is no immunity….even for the friends of Jesus. And if you read the New Testament long enough, you will discover that there is no immunity….especially for the friends of Jesus.
One of the problems with growing up is that life forces you to learn that. When you are a little kid, you can be on an outing with your parents….one that requires a lengthy car ride. And, at some point, it gets very late. Then it gets very dark. And you get very tired. So what do you do? You find some room on the backseat….or on the floor of the backseat….and you go to sleep. With maybe a little discomfort. But with absolutely no worries. That’s because there are people in the front seat. You figure that they will know how to stay awake….where to go….when to turn….when to get gas….how to pump it….how to pay for it….in short, how to get where they are going. And if you don’t wake up, that’s all right. Because when the car finally stops, they will lift you from it (even if it means slinging you over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes). Then they’ll carry you up to bed. And should you wake up and mutter “Where are we?”, they’ll say: “Don’t worry, we’re home.” And, at that moment, that’s all you need to know. Or care to know.
Well, I hate to tell you this. But those days are pretty much over. You are the people who are about to be in the front seat. There is no blanket protection. And, from time to time, there may even be demolition. Two years ago, in the best graduation speech I ever delivered, I invited you to remember one of the first songs you ever learned. I am talking about the one with the hand motions.
The eensy weensy spider climbed up the water spout.
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.
And the eeensy weensy spider climbed up the spout again.
Well, that’s the nature of rain. To come down, I mean. Just when your “climb up the water spout” has a good head of steam, you will be set back, held back, pushed back or flushed back. That’s what happened to one spider, two little piggies, and the unfortunate guy in today’s Bible story who built his house on sinking sand. It happens.
So what would I say to you this morning? Three things. All of them short. All of them simple. None of them easy. What are they?
1. Watch out for yourself.
2. Take care of each other.
3. Hang with Jesus.
First things first. Watch out for yourself. It has occurred to me, on more than one occasion, that while Jesus told his friends to be trusting, he never told them to be dumb. “Be innocent as doves,” he said. But he also said: “Be wise as serpents.” Serpents, in biblical shorthand, means snakes. And how are snakes wise? That’s simple. They know what to watch out for, and what to stay away from.
The other day I was driving down Chesterfield when a kid about 13 or 14 rode his bike right out in front of me. Not as in “darted” out in front of me. But as in making a big, slow, lazy loop in front of me. A “dart” would have been careless. A “slow, lazy loop” was stupid. He didn’t know I might be there….didn’t care I might be there….and figured, even if I was there, I would look out for him. Right….this time. Wrong….some time.
Your parents worry about you, you know. Because you have a tendency to be dumb in the way I just described….by thinking that you are invincible (you’re not)….and by lazily looping and loping your way through life, figuring that everybody else is going to watch out for you (we’re not).
Which is why older people sometimes say to you: “Why don’t you use the head you were born with?” Except the “head” they are talking about is not the “head you were born with.” You were born with a head for numbers and letters. You were born with a head for dancing and singing. You were born with a head for trusting that people are generally good, choices are generally easy, and that nothing will hurt for very long (because there will always be somebody to kiss your boo-boo and make it better). The “head” that adults criticize you for not using is a head that you have to develop. It is the one that reasons: “I can make some decisions that will do me a lot of good. I can make some decisions that will do me a lot of harm. And the day will come, much sooner than I ever thought it would, when no one will stop me from making any decision (including decisions that will do me harm).” Which is why the apostle Paul said to the Corinthians (more than once): “You can choose to do pretty much anything. But not all choices are helpful. Nor will they build you up.”
Watch out for yourself! Take care of each other. The worst sin of teenagers….in that it is virtually universal among teenagers….is that you have a tendency to be obnoxious to each other. You criticize each other. You belittle each other. You talk about this one to that one, and about that one to this one. You cause pain by what you say to each other, or about each other. And you expend precious little worry over whether any of the stuff you say is true. You claim that friendship is important to you. But it is often unsafe in your hands. Your gossiping ways and cutting tongues are outgrowths of your own insecurities.
So I would encourage you to wake up and recognize how much you need each other. Life is too hard to attempt it alone. And the world is already too diced and cubed to further fracture the circle. For God’s sake….and for yours….build more bridges than you burn. And learn….if you learn nothing further….to be kind.
Watch out! Take care! Hang with Jesus! I am not talking about wearing a bracelet with four initials (or even writing with a Cross pen). Although if you need a visual reminder, by all means wear one (or use one). I am talking about keeping company with Jesus and his friends….hanging out where he hangs out….and where they hang out. Not that you can’t find him anywhere. But why not start with the obvious? I mean places like this one.
Did you ever hear it said that dogs, over time, begin to look like the people who own them? And did you ever hear that married people (over time) begin to look like each other? I don’t know about any of that. But there is one thing I do know. I know that the longer people hang out with Jesus, the more they begin to look like Christians.
Let me drive my point home with a football story (which, now that girls are playing football, may finally be gender appropriate). None of you kids will remember Bud Wilkinson, but he was one of the greatest football coaches who ever lived. We’re talking Oklahoma Sooners. We’re talking Cotton Bowl appearances. We’re talking national championships.
I recently read that Bud Wilkinson had a unique way of working with his quarterbacks. During the season, he had his quarterback move from the dorm into his house and live with his family. The coach and the quarterback became like father and son. They lived together, ate together, rode to practice together, studied films together, diagramed plays together, and discussed football together. When asked why he did this, Bud Wilkinson answered: “Because if that young man spends enough time with me, he will begin to think like I think. Then, when he gets out there on the football field, he will know what I want him to do.”
If you don’t see the point of that, you’re probably not as bright as I think you are. But if you need me to make the connection for you, here it is.
So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any incentive of love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfishness or conceit, but in humility count others better than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus. (Phil. 2:1-5)
So….Corey, Heather, Elizabeth, Ben, Brendan, Evan, Elisabeth, Patrick, Nicole, Amanda, Ashley, Tisha, Amanda, Elise, Matt, Tyler, Amy, Marlee, Chris, Jessica, Marin, Danny, Laura, Kathryn, Nick, Jordan, Anna, Patrick, Lindsey, Sam, Erik, Travis, Jenna, Nolan, Hilary, Blake, Neil, Bob, Bill, Kenneth, Megan, Brianna, Miranda, Brooke, Katy, Marty, Bobbie, Jamie, Anne, Sam, Ashton, Mark, Sam….
Watch out.
Take care.
Hang with Jesus.
And build something of your life.
After all, we do work for a Jewish carpenter. There’s that….and, I hate to be the one to break it to you….but you’re soon going to be too big for the dodge ‘em cars.
Note: This sermon was preached, with slight variations, for a graduate recognition service at one hour and a Confirmation service at another. The names listed above belong to the 53 confirmands. At other services of the morning, I inserted the names of several graduates and/or members of the congregation.
I am indebted to my Pennsylvania colleague, Eric Ritz, for the anecdote about Bud Wilkinson.
