Hail to the Chief (The Politics of Jesus, Week 5)

Psalm 118

Luke 19:28-40

After the sermon today we will receive thirteen people who are responding to God’s call to love and serve Jesus Christ together with this congregation.  Eleven of them are young people who are finishing the confirmation process.  And they’ve communicated to our Session that they want to join the life of the church in a more adult way.  Our Christian Education Committee and a large group of adult mentors have been a part of this process. 

We used a video curriculum this year that covered some of the basics of what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ, as well as what it means to do this as Presbyterians.  We had some lively conversations.  Generally, I would confuse the young people in one way or another, and then leave it to their mentors to sort things out.  Helping our young people explore and connect personally with the meaning of faith in God is central to our mission.  And the whole process reminds me of a couple of stories I heard from rabbi Lawrence Kushner, who is the leader at Temple Emmanu-El in San Francisco.  (I highly recommend the “On Being” Podcast by Krista Tippett, where I heard the interview with Kushner).

Kushner’s congregation has an education program that includes a weekend away for families with teenagers.  They do this for families with kids preparing for bar- and bat-mitzvahs (which is kind of like Jewish “confirmation”).  On a Sabbath afternoon Kushner wanted to ask a question that would spur good discussion.  And so he asked the teenagers, “How many of you believe in God?”  He figured that some would say yes, some would say no, and then they could talk about it. 

So he asked them.  And not a single teenager raised their hand.  None of them believed in God.  Kushner was crushed.  He thought to himself, “Great, it all comes down to this.  3,000 years of Jewish faith and struggle for a bunch of obnoxious little suburban Jewish teenagers who don’t believe in God anymore!”  He wanted to kill them.  And then he punted.  He changed the subject. 

But later in the conversation he came back around to ask the question a slightly different way.  This time, he said, “How many of you have had an experience where you felt close to God?”  And this time, every single teenager raised his or her hand.  So Kushner said, “Tell me more, how have you felt close to God?”  One said “Last night when my mom lit candles for Sabbath, it was beautiful, and I felt close to God.”  Another said, “Last year my grandfather died.  And I was very sad but somehow I felt close to God.”  What Kushner realized was that deep in Jewish tradition there was a sense that the question “do you or do you not believe in God” isn’t the most important thing.  Sometimes we find ourselves believing.  Other times we don’t.  Often what we believe is out of our control.  But there are times when we’re “close”  to God.

So now let me say to our young people, not just those finishing confirmation but all of you: we do care what you believe.  But it never was, and never will be, just a “head” thing, just a “knowledge” thing, just an “intellectual” thing.  It’s more like a way of life – a new way of being in the world that is fundamentally shaped by the experience of being loved by God in Jesus Christ.  And that way of being loved pulls you into a new set of commitments, values, trusts, and beliefs.  Yes, new beliefs.  But you have a lifetime to explore, search, read, pray, think, and ask questions. 

In the gospel story we read, the doubters, the unconvinced, the people who weren’t ready to do something new with their lives, said, “Jesus, these flaky, gullible people are singing about you and welcoming you as if your face is the face of God.  Stop them.  Tell them to quit talking that way.  Explain to them they’re making a mistake.”  But Jesus said, “If they keep quiet, the rocks will sing for me.”  So just to state the obvious, those of you receiving baptism or reaffirming your baptism today are doing something statistically unique.  While many people in our culture are dismissing the practice confessing allegiance to Jesus Christ and of belonging to a congregation, you are testifying that this is what you want.  When God calls us, we sing with the crowds, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord.”  And if we didn’t sing, all of creation would voice the song.

I told our young people the very first week of confirmation (and repeated it at our Session meeting): for years, your parents have been putting words in your mouth.  Your teachers have been putting words in your mouth.  As a pastor I’ve put words in your mouth.  We’ve been speaking for you.  But that time is over.  We’re not going to do that anymore.  It’s time for you to grow up.  Now you have to start saying what you want.  We’re here because we’re glad to belong to Jesus Christ, and we want to share a new way of life with others gathered around Jesus Christ.  And we want you and your gifts and your passions and your questions here among us.  But do you want that for yourself?  If you do, you’ll have to say so.

And so, we asked them to put their faith in their own words.  We asked them to introduce themselves and tell the Session what they learned during confirmation, and why they want to become adult members of the church.  We asked for honesty, and so a few admitted that confirmation was more their parents idea than their own.  But some said they realized it’s time for them to grow up.   Some talked about wanting to become adults in the church, taking on more responsibility. 

Some of them could have talked for an hour.  Some of them wanted to get quickly to the point and get it over with.  One young person said she wanted to join the church because she believes people who love God go to heaven and people who don’t love God and who do bad things don’t.  And she wants to love God.  It was very simple and beautiful.  Another young person said he wanted to join the church to learn to love God and other people more and more. 

My son Oliver said he came to the confirmation process with lots of questions he wanted to ask.  (And believe me, he asked lots of questions.)  But, he said not many of his questions got answers.  And he had more questions now than when he started.  I admit, this response made me slightly nervous.  So I asked if he at least feels like the church is a good place to ask questions.  Don’t you think questions are valued as a good thing here?  Yes, he said.  “But when I ask you a question, you don’t really answer.  You just ask more questions.”  The room laughed.  Yes, I admitted.  If you need a straight clear answer, I may not be your best option!  Answers are good – they provide structure, boundaries, and clarity.  And yet questions – questions are beautiful, and sacred.  Questions are what pull you out deeper into the waters of baptism.  Questions are what widen your perspective on God’s love and who gets included.

Hunter asked if she could tell a story.  “It’s kind of long,” she said.  “Of course you can tell a story,” I said.  “But can you edit it, give us the abridged version?”  She hesitated, and so I said, “Look, the whole point of this is that you get to be honest.  We want you to be honest.  So go for it.  Tell us the story.”  And so she told a story about a friend’s conversation with another pastor in another congregation.  And the friend was asking about baptism.  And the pastor told her she was ready.  But she wasn’t sure if she was ready.  So she asked for more time.  She wanted to think about it.  Ask some more questions.  But it really bothered Hunter that her friend wasn’t granted the respect and time to sort things out in a time frame that felt right to her.  She really wants to be in a place where she gets to do things at her own pace, in her own time.  And she wants to be able to ask questions.  And she felt like confirmation allowed her to do that.

So back to our Jewish friends . . . Rabbi Kushner tells another story about giving a tour of the sanctuary to the kids in the pre-school that is connected to Temple Emmanu-El.  He didn’t really want to go down to their classroom to tell them about the High Holy days and what happens in worship.  He wanted them to come into the sanctuary.  He gave them the tour.  Let them look around.  He pointed things out.  But he saved for last a special treat.  He planned to end the tour by taking the kids up onto the stage at the front of the sanctuary. 

On the stage there’s a large floor-to-ceiling curtain behind which is an ark which contains a copy of the Torah.  The first five books of the Bible are the center of Jewish faith and life.  He wanted to take it out and let them read from it.  And even touch part of it if their hands were clean.  Kids like to touch things, it’s how they learn.  And the Torah scroll is made of parchment – the outside of it feels like peach fuzz.  But just when he was getting to that part of the tour, he saw the kids’ teacher at the back of the sanctuary tapping her watch.  It was time for them to go.  So he told the kids that next week he’d bring them back in the sanctuary and show them what was behind the curtain.  “It’s something very special,” he promised. 

And off the kids went with their teacher, like little ducklings.  Kushner didn’t think much more about it.  But the next day, the teacher informed him that there was a fierce debate among the little people about what was behind that curtain.  Four answers were given.  One kid, sure to be a future philosopher who dresses in black and writes depressing things, announced that behind the curtain there was nothing.  This clearly bothered another more sensitive Jewish child, who offered that there was probably some kind of Jewish holy thing behind that curtain.  Yet another child, apparently a lover of game shows, excitedly guessed that behind that curtain was a brand new car!  Finally, one child said no you’re all wrong.  “When the rabbi pulls back the curtain what we’ll see is a giant mirror.” 

According to Rabbi Kushner, this child is the one who got it right.  This child had somehow guessed that when we read sacred scripture, we encounter ourselves in a new and heightened and revealing way.  Now like our Jewish friends, we too are people of the book.  We too have sacred writings.  And in a way, confirmation is the way we invite our young people into the life-long practice of reading scripture together.  And when we read, we are not looking for rules.  We are not looking for a list of things to believe.  We are not trying to become someone other than who we are.  We read in order to hear the good news that in the risen Christ, God invites us forward into more of who we are.  In the risen Christ, God invites us away from the games we often play, into what’s real, and into our truest and biggest selves.

We’re here on Palm Sunday, waving palms gladly as we join our voices with the crowds in the story – “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!”  And now I invite those of you receiving baptism or reaffirming your baptism to join at the baptismal font.