I don't know what baptisms are like in your faith tradition, but Presbyterians involve the whole congregation.
The minister baptizes the baby. The parents promise to raise the baby in the love of Christ. And we, the church family, stand up and pledge to, " love, encourage, and support" the child and to help them "know and follow Christ." And, you know what? In our church, we really do that.
Never was that more apparent to me then during "Youth Sunday" recently at our church. It's an entirely youth led service. Graduating high school seniors deliver the sermons. My daughter and two others did this year.
She was not nervous.
I was. And tense.
The morning did not begin well.
My husband chose a seat in the sanctuary from which we would have a terrible view of the pulpit. Instead of quietly asking him if he'd like to move, I barked, "Why are you sitting here? You can't see anything from here."
He looked shocked.
So did everybody sitting around him.
It's a side of me that perhaps my church friends had never seen before.
Oh, well. Now they have.
If I wasn't proud of myself that morning, I sure was proud of my girl. She was poised and calm. And so grown up. She's a darned good speaker.
She was the final of the three to deliver her sermon and here's what she said:
I have been -involved in this church for as long as I can remember. In fact in a video that was made for and Interfaith youth group I’m in, I say that my friends have called me a “church-a-holic.” When this video was made, I had no idea that it would be shown all over the country, much less all over the world. Now even youth groups in Russia probably know me as “that crazy church-a-holic girl”
But it’s true… I’ve grown up here participating in the youth group, going on countless retreats and amazing mission trips, Travelling to Cuba, serving as a Deacon, working the front desk, acting in Cabaret and singing in choir, until I became a church choir drop out, for which Chris will never forgive me.
Apart from church and school, I spend most of my time making music. My parents dragged me to classes with names like “Musical Trolley!” and “Music for Creepers and Crawlers!” when I was just 18 months old. And by the time I was old enough to start thinking for myself, I was hooked. I’ve studied piano for 13 years, but more recently I’ve fallen in love with singing. Ever since I started taking lessons three years ago I haven’t stopped singing, or humming whatever song in running through my head. Usually I don’t even realize I’m doing it, which drives my brother crazy, and the three words I hear most frequently from him are “Just…shut…up.”
This year in my choir at school we were given a commissioned work to sing for the North Central American Choir Director’s Association Convention. The piece was by Joan Szymco, a composer from Portland, and the first time we sang through the piece I was blown away. Not only by the music, but also by the text. Szymco took two quotes by Mother Theresa and brought them together with the word “remember.”
It goes like this…
“If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other
Remember
All works of love are works of peace”
When I heard the passage from Romans that was read this morning, this poem was the first thing I thought of..
Love does no wrong to a neighbor.
All works of love are works of peace.
These ideas are deceptively simple, and when taken at face value seem even juvenile. In fact, they are the ideas that we began to learn in kindergarten. But it seems that we stopped learning them then. That as we’ve grown up and matured, it is assumed that we’ve accepted these ideas, without thought or question. If the commandment to love one another is the most important, why do we so often fail?
But clearly this isn’t the case. It’s easy to get discouraged by people’s acts of hate and intolerance.
Maybe Joan Szymco is right. We forget, and we need to be reminded. We need to remember to belong to one another and to act with love.
Music is a powerful way to teach that, but so is the work we do here.
When we were in Bethphage last summer for a mission trip serving people with severe mental and physical disabilities, I was reminded every day, by my friends from this church and our new friends from Bethphage that we belong to one another. Especially one woman I worked with, Amanda. She has an incredible memory and can recite almost the entire movie “Wizard of Oz,” but often has trouble speaking otherwise. During an ice cream social at the end o our week together, we were joking around and I called something she did awesome. Later, she pointed right at me and said, one of the few things I heard her say wasn’t a line from a movie, “you’re awesome!”
It’s moments like these when I am reminded that we belong to each other. When I am reminded that simply loving one another is the best way to create peace.
My friends and I have been so lucky to grow up in this church, Where we are loved and constantly encouraged to act with love. The greatest commandment of all.
"Wow, she really nailed it with that last line," one of the church leaders said to me after the service.
"Thanks," I said. "We really do feel blessed to have our kids raised in such an open, loving community."
Open to everybody.
After the service the youth involved lined up and greeted the parishioners.
Was that ever emotional!
The woman with the colorful jacket is a lovely lady from our church. She's been unbelievably supportive of my girl. She's taken an interest in her music and her school progress. I can't tell you how much that has meant. Just look at my daughter's face light up as she comes through the line and comments on her sermon. What a gift this kind of community is.
Here...
... comes my girl's first grade Sunday school teacher. And now I can't stop the tears. Neither can the teacher.
Because she and the other loving adults in this placed raised these kids, taught these kids, nurtured these kids just as much as we parents did.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
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