Going Home

This Sunday I am preaching in my home church. I grew up in this church from age 4. My father was the Senior Pastor of this church for 22 years.

According to the gospel of Luke, when Jesus went home to preach he was well received. At first. But when he started to make it clear that his work was not "all about them", the mood changed. In fact, the locals tried to throw Jesus off a cliff. But Jesus escaped. Luke, who is a master of the poetic and multivalenced phrase, says that Jesus "passed through the midst of them" and went on his way.

I doubt the locals will try to throw me off the cliff. I am not that important.

I have very fond memories of growing up in this church. My memories surround the people. I have no idea what I learned, if anything, in Sunday School. But I remember the people who taught me. I recall nothing of my confirmation class experience, but I remember the communion I was a part of on Maundy Thursday, my first. I have no idea what turmoil, deceit, politics, or conflict may have been happening around me. I remember being loved and valued by adults who were not my parents.

And I still believe this is the great gift the church has to offer. Beyond doctrine and morality, beyond right belief and right behavior, there is love. In Greek the word for love is agape. It is the hallmark and the definition of the community Jesus left behind. It is this love that the church is meant to offer, especially to children.

Where else in society do generations have an opportunity to meet and share on such a regular basis? Where else will children encounter adults who take and interest in them, spend time with the, are glad to see them?

School? Not to hear my children tell it. According to my daughter she is not in middle school but in the gulag, Now she has a tendency to exaggerate. But it is true that the school environment is too structured, too chaotic, to allow teachers to show the individual support and encouragement that children benefit from. Or maybe its just our schools where this is the case.

Athletics? Perhaps. But athletics are competitive. The point is to win. If this environment nurtures it tends to nurture only the select few.

The church should be a place where the old embrace the young and the young appreciate the old. It meant a great deal to me in my formative years that I knew there were adult men who looked forward to seeing me, shared an interest in my interests, and supported me for who I was.

This week I am going to talk about what it means to be the family of God. My thoughts on the subject have changed over the years, as first I had children and then my children grew older. But one thing remains unchanged. The church must welcome the young person. There is no greater calling for an adult in church than to spend time affirming and supporting the young. Jesus said, let the little children come unto me and do not stop them. Nothing stops them quicker than a cold shoulder. Nothing discourages them from coming like not being there to greet them.