Jesus said, “I
am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower… Abide in me as I abide in
you.”
If you have
been to my house you know that wisteria covers the pergola on my backyard
deck. Once established, wisteria
is a hardy vine, to say the least.
You can do just about anything to it and it keeps coming back. A year ago I had to cut it all down to
replace the deck structure that had rotted and two months later the wisteria
had recovered the entire pergola.
That penchant for growth translates into a lot of trimming. I have noticed that within five minutes
of cutting off a shoot it begins to wither. The affect of being separated from the vine happens just
that fast.
Jesus drew on
this imagery – although he was thinking of grape vines, not wisteria – to
highlight one of the most important features of the spiritual life: our need to
be connected to him if we are going to have healthy, productive lives being
able to make sense and draw meaning out our existence.
Parker Palmer
tells the story of a three-year-old girl who was the first-born in her
family. Upon learning that her
mother was pregnant again, the girl became excited at the thought of being a
big sister. When a little boy was
born and brought home, the girl made an odd request of her parents. She wanted the door to the nursery to
be shut so she and only she could be in the room with her new brother. The parents were not sure what to make
of this, but remembering that they had a baby monitor in the room figured they
could grant their daughter’s request while still being able to listen in for
signs of trouble. So they left the
room, closed the door, and listened attentively from a short distance
away. After a period of silence,
the three-year-old girl, surely standing next to the crib, said to her newborn
baby brother, “Tell me about God – I’ve almost forgotten.”
There is
something wonderful about a child’s faith. It is so pure, so innocent, so trusting, so open. And yet, as the little girl’s story
suggests, it does not last. Billy
Collins, poet laureate of the United States, describes the change that occurred
in him in a poem called “On Turning Ten.”
The thought of adding a second digit to his age made him feel like he
was coming down with something – “a kind of measles of the spirit.” He recalls how he began to look at the
world differently. He reflects on
seeing his bicycle leaning against the garage and how it appeared to him as if
“all the dark blue speed [had] drained out of it.” Collins concludes with this:
It seems
only yesterday I used to believe
there was
nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut
me I would shine.
But now when
I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bled.
Abiding in God
seems to come naturally the younger we are, but its ease begins to slip away;
perhaps by the time we turn ten; certainly as we reach our teens and early
twenties when the harsh realities of life, with its difficult questions, become
our everyday reality. Consider
Colleen’s story. She spent her
years in public education preparing to go to college. It was very important both to her and to her parents. She got good grades and was accepted at
several schools. Unfortunately,
her parents were not able to provide much financial support and even with a few
scholarships Colleen faced incurring a mountain of debt in student loans. Then she heard about a fertility clinic
that paid really good money to egg donors. She researched the subject on the internet, but was still
left with major questions: Does the church have a position on the issue? What does the bible have to say about
it? Would God approve, or be
unhappy? She decided to talk with
the youth minister at her church but that person was completely unequipped to
help her think through the moral and spiritual implications of her decision.
Colleen is
representative of many in her generation who are entering that age when we all
start to ask serious questions about God and life and meaning. Sadly, at this key point of searching,
36% of Christians in their teens and twenties report they don’t feel the church
is a place they can go to ask their most pressing questions in their life. The result, young people are leaving
the institutional church in droves.
To the degree
that we here this morning believe it to be our calling to help young people
grow into an abiding relationship with God we ought to be concerned. What is going on in our society? Is it merely today’s expression of
teenage angst that every generation experiences and works through, or is it
something different, something more permanent?
In his book, You Lost Me. Why Young Christians are Leaving Church
and Rethinking Faith,
researcher David Kinnaman identifies six areas of disconnection between young
people and the church:
Young
people want to engage the culture and find expressions for their creative
impulses, but they experience the church as over-protective – giving the message that the culture is to be
avoided. They want to reimagine,
recreate, and rethink everything – including how to be the church – but their
drive is being neutralized by those guarding the status quo.
Young
people experience the church as being shallow – a place to be told easy answers that do not
help them to connect their faith with their gifts, abilities, and passions.
They
grow up in a world saturated with the benefits of science and technology while
at the same time receiving a message from the church that is strongly anti-science.
Half expect to have a career in science and technology, but get little
or no guidance from the church on how to understand this as their calling. The message they receive is that you
can be a person of faith or a person of science, but not both.
Many
young people are putting off marriage until the late twenties or early
thirties, but are exposed to sex at a very early age. The church, preferring rules to reasons, comes off as repressive and, as a result, there is a growing disconnect
between what the church teaches and the reality of young peoples’ lives.
This
age group has a difficult time embracing the notion that the church has an exclusive hold on the truth. They value open-mindedness, tolerance, and acceptance and
prefer to find common ground as opposed to identifying differences.
Finally,
young people report that the church is not a safe place to express doubts.
When faith doesn’t make sense, the church’s response is trivial and
fact-focused, as if a person can be talked out of doubting.
All of this might suggest that young people are
no longer religious. This may be
true for some, but Kinnaman’s research reveals that people in this age group
are spiritual tinkers who have a cafeteria approach to faith – a little of this
from over here, a dash of that, and a helping of something new I have never
tried before. I have no doubt that
young people will continue to seek the Holy and search for an abiding
relationship with God. Given the
amazing access they have to information and the global, cultural mixing that is
a part of their reality, they will be able to get input from a multitude of
avenues that did not exist when we were that age. The real question is how influential and involved the church
will be in their pursuit. Up until
now the church has been reluctant and ill-equipped to abide with its young
people as they inhabit a landscape so alien to our experience.
As I read You Lost Me I could not shake the notion that its research
sounded more reflective of young people who grew up in the Roman Catholicism or
fundamentalist churches. That’s
not to say that we in the Episcopal Church have it all figured out – we
don’t. Still, Kinnaman offers
three broad suggestions which, as it turns out, are not exactly foreign to our
branch of the faith.
First, he calls on the church to rethink relationships by
recovering the biblical notion of a generation. We think of a generation as marketers do – the boomers, the
busters, the millennials, the mosaics, etc – a clustering of a twenty year (or
so) age range based on experiences and world views. When the bible talks about a generation it is refers to
everyone alive right now. This
means we are not here to prepare children and young people to be the church
someday when they are older, but rather we all are the church right now –
together – a partnership to fulfill God’s purpose in our time. While this notion has many
implications, at its heart it calls for all of us to be in relationship – an
abiding of all the fruit on the vine now matter where it is in the process of
ripening.
Next Kinnaman says the church needs to rediscover the ancient
understanding of vocation. Our
young people lack clarity about what God is asking them to do with their lives. This has got to change. Like the hymn says about saints, “And
one was a doctor, and one was a queen, and one was a shepherdess on the green…
and there’s not any reason, no not the least, why I shouldn’t be one too.” Each of us can use our gifts, talents,
interests, and passions in a career inside or outside the church in service to
God’s kingdom.
Finally, the author suggests we focus less on
rules and more on wisdom, which is the “spiritual, mental, and emotional
ability to relate rightly to God, to others, and to our culture.” That is, after all, what we ultimately
hope for each member of the church, not that he or she merely does the do’s
while shunning the don’ts. These
are important, to be sure, but there is more – so much more – to an abiding
faith than being a good little boy or girl.
If it clears up later today I will have some
yard work to do. On my list is
trimming the wisteria. No matter
how much I cut, it will grow back, but what is cut off is lost. I can’t say for sure if the trimmings
represent young people who are leaving the church or if they represent the
church itself. The faith will go
on because as St. Paul tells us faith, hope, and love abide. For the church, however, there is no
such guarantee. Its role in life
is related to an interesting blend of fidelity to God and cultural
relevance. The good news is there
is still time for us to discern and to change. There is still time to be what God asks the church to be – a
place where all people can come to abide in God with one another.