Proclaim091414 Our Kids and the Role of the Church
One of the most rewarding and difficult experiences I’ve ever had in
ministry occurred shortly after my ordination in the Summer of 1978. I
spent that Summer in South Carolina working with migrant
farmworkers and their families. Every day that Summer I would leave a
very comfortable house I lived in with another priest, join up with some
sisters and lay folks, and head off to the labor camps where the
migrants lived to make sure they had all the social services they were
entitled to and to celebrate liturgy in Spanish, in the middle of the
camp, singing de colores with all our hearts. Each day I encountered
these folks, undocumented migrants, mostly Mexicans, who were
brought here through an arrangement between the U.S. Government
and local farmers, I had to overcome my shock at the squalid conditions
they lived in in broken-down trailers that could easily reach well over
100 degrees as well as the back-breaking work they endured as they
stooped down to pick vegetables or climbed trees to snatch peaches. I
also remember the often tense relationship we had with farmers who
didn’t trust us, worried that we might incite the migrants to complain
about their living and working conditions or protest that they didn’t
have time to visit the offices which administered food stamps and other
benefits they were legally entitled to.
One night back at our comfortable quarters, I received a phone call that
there had been an auto accident and a small child had been badly
injured. Off I went to be with the family in intensive care. Though the
family wasn’t totally clear about the child’s condition when I arrived,
she had received a terrible head injury, was on life support, and the
nurses informed me her chances of survival were slim to none.
Eventually, they removed the life supports and this 4 year old died. My
heart broke; the parents were devastated at the loss and that they
were so far from home with little family support.
Some weeks back when there seemed a major crisis on our Southern
border and seemingly hundreds, maybe thousands of children were
crossing seeking safe haven, I was proud of our State which agreed to
offer them temporary shelter, but appalled at the resistance from large
areas of the country. I immediately thought of the migrant children I
knew in 1978 and of all the immigrants who have come fleeing war and
violence, both 30 years ago, and most recently. And I thought, these
are children, innocent children, in need of care and compassion. How
do we reject them and not lose our souls.
I also thought of some of the parables of Jesus I grew up with focused
on children and the anger he demonstrated when people, including his
most trusted followers, pushed them away. “They brought children for
him to touch. The disciples rebuked them, but when Jesus saw it he was
indignant, and said to them: “Let the children come to me; do not try to
stop them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell
you: whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will never
enter it. And he put his arms around them, laid his hands on them, and
blessed them.” (Mark 10; 13-16) These were not children of his family
or friends they were total strangers, immigrants perhaps. The message
couldn’t be clearer: children, all children, are our responsibility; kids
from Ethiopia, kids from Guatemala and El Salvador, kids from Roxbury
and Dorchester, kids from Lynn and Gloucester, and yes, even kids from
Essex and Ipswich and Hamilton, many our own kids!
Children and youth are on my mind this morning as we launch, once
again (beginning my 12th year), our toddler, children and youth
programs to ensure our kids are cared for, nurtured and loved, and
given values and teachings that, hopefully will serve them for a lifetime.
When I first came here, the small group that kept this church alive said
we need a UU church in which to raise our children; we want you to
develop programs for children and youth. And one of the clinchers for
me in deciding to accept this calling was a letter I received while still in
Pittsburgh from little Liam Gorman, then about 6 or 7 years old,
pleading with me to come to Essex to help build up the church: I liked
your story about the pennies, he said, I actually understood what you
were saying!
Now, almost 12 years later, I’m in awe of what has been created here,
servicing toddlers to 18 year olds in our various programs and classes.
The wonderful history of RE directors, from Mary Ann Askwyth who
would often go downstairs with 1 or 2 kids, to Ellen to Lois, and now
Allison, an actual millennial who wants to bring our programming to
another level for our some 40 or so children and youth. And I love our
graduated youth who have now moved on to college and beyond, from
farmer Noah to our latest college-bound youth, Lindsey Duff. Am I ever
proud to send them off into this complicated world. Though I mostly
applaud their parents, I want this faith community to take some credit
as well. It is such important work that we do.
In a book entitled: “The Self-Esteem Trap: Raising Confident and
Compassionate Kids in an Age of Self-Importance,” Buddhist
practitioner and psychologist, Polly Young-Eisandrath, argues pretty
vigorously for the important role of religion, institutional religion for
the lives of our children. In her mind, the shift away from organized
religion in the past years has left some gaps for parents and children,
e.g., how we form conscience and talk about virtue, how we find
purpose and meaning in our lives and our deaths, and how we seek
reverence for our very existence. “When religions are alive and
healthy,” she writes, “children grow up in a social environment that
inculcates a respect for human existence. In the absence of this kind of
influence, they can easily get the impression that their lives are
supposed to be about themselves – having a good time, maybe having a
family, making money.” Without religion, she goes on, finding a
purpose and developing reverence will fall to educational, cultural or
family institutions that can help but still can’t make up for what is
religion’s main function – at its best, religions upholds “…concepts
(such as) truth, love, service, faith, hope, beauty and ritual.”
In promoting the value of right religion, Young isn’t talking about creeds
or even, necessarily organizations of people, but “…rather…a careful
and serious attitude about matters of transcendence…that break
through the limits of our personal self and identity, conveying a
connection to the source of our being…a religious attitude, enhanced
through beliefs and practices, keeps us in touch with a perplexity and
reverence” about our lives and can “…renew our sense of connection to
one another and to something that goes beyond our own identity.”
Finally, in her therapeutic work, imbued with her own very deep
Buddhist practice, Young says that she is often asked by parents how
they can encourage spiritual awareness on the part of children (I’m
think of Tori’s great initiative she has called “spiritual parenting” that
meets monthly – 7 families participated last night!) to which she
responds: “I always recommend having them visit the ill and dying.”
This is especially relevant to kids from age 5 on, she suggests, when
they can begin to get just what illness and death might be. The big
questions in life generally emerge around illness and death; “The closer
that we come to the real world – where we know absolutely that we
are limited, vulnerable, dependent on others, and responsible for our
own decisions, the better; Religion can play a key role in this process.”
What we do here, what we offer, can make such a difference. It is holy
and sacred work. It’s so much more than daycare.
I so remember the night in our Pittsburgh church during an adult RE
class, when a young woman in her late 20s, I suppose, a non-believer
and deep skeptic about religion, especially institutional, organized
religion, who had been raised without any affiliation to a church or
synagogue, said with deep sadness and remorse, I really wish I was
brought up in some religious tradition and congregation with a concept
of ultimate meaning, maybe even a God, just to have that foundation
from which to jump off, maybe deepen, maybe reject, but something.
But, alas, she bemoaned, it’s too late. I can’t get there now.
Interestingly, she and her husband left UU and have raised their two
girls as Episcopalians. The girls are thriving.
I especially love encountering our young adults who have come through
our religious programs. When I see Justine or Brian or Julia, who
recently came to service, or Trev or Elliot or Noah, and I can’t wait to
see Lindsey or her first visit home from Bowden (I tried to reject her
exit visa from Essex unsuccessfully), I am so thrilled to see their
development.
A little over a year ago I gave a series of lectures at a UU Summer
Institute in Ohio, with a group full of old friends and members of our
congregation in Pittsburgh. The best part by far was interacting with a
half-dozen young adults who had come through our program or one of
the surrounding UU churches. What spectacular adults they have
become. I reminded 24 year-old Ben that when I was leaving the church
to come to Massachusetts, he was spokesperson for the youth group
and said to me publicly, “and most especially I want to thank you, Artie,
for never yelling at us!” We had a good laugh, even though he didn’t
remember. Even his parents got a chuckle out of that – I think they did
most of the yelling. Even better, another young person, Ben’s sister,
came up to me and I didn’t at first recognize her – she was mature, tall,
beautiful and self-assured. She looked straight at me with a huge smile,
suddenly I said with a question mark, “Molly?” All we could do was to
embrace and sob. Then we laughed hysterically. Then she told me that
while she was listening to me lecture that first day, she closed her eyes
and thought that was the same voice she grew up with at the Allegheny
church, that comforting, strong voice, she said that assured her all
would be well; not to worry. I was blown away, so suddenly aware of
how much impact we adults can have on our children and youth. What
a blessing. It was Molly’s mom, by the way, who gave me this
sweatshirt – “As Bad as the Kids.”
As many know, when I’m speaking with the children, I often remind
them that their main job in life was to make sure they get their parents
to church. Two weeks ago, Elizabeth said to me that her youngest girl
woke up recently and said when can we go back to that cool church?
She got the message. So today I’m reversing that message and saying
to you parents that your main job is to bring your kids to church; I know
it can be difficult; I know you can meet resistance; I know it will not
always be possible; nevertheless, I want to say that it matters and will,
as time goes on, matter. The details of how to do that I’ll leave to all of
you; especially the yelling part! But just know that the church is trying
to do its part and with Carolyn & Alexa downstairs with the toddlers,
Allison and so many of you with our children, and Lois with our youth, I
think we have a wonderful group of caring and nurturing youngsters
and adults, ready to offer the very best our Universalist hearts and
minds can share. So, please, if you have any inclination, or even if you
don’t, let us talk to you into helping out with the program; Lois and
Allison are top notch, but we need volunteers. Sign-up sheets are in the
back. We’ll make it manageable. The more volunteers, the less each will
be asked to do. Talk to Allison before you leave church; and thanks. This
is sacred work; holy work; essential work. Consequential work.
Caring for and nurturing our own kids is a primary responsibility we all
have; that’s generally obvious and most of us do that very well,
thankfully. But we must never forget that as people of faith, as
Universalist and Unitarians, as Christians, and Jews and Buddhists, our
traditions call us to embrace all children, especially those most in need,
not just our own; when it comes to children, I believe our faith
traditions teach there ought not be any borders. By saving children, as
my friend Don Robinson at Beacon House in Washington, DC, who has
over 300 children in his all year round programming, tells me all the
time, we are saving ourselves. May it be so!