 Rev. Jeff Nelson |
Unbound
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Scripture: |
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The year
was 1999. The seniors from our youth group were finishing the
seventh grade. By the end of 1999, most of these youth
celebrated their thirteenth birthdays, crossing the threshold
of the teenage years. That
year, their first year of being teenagers, the news was filled
with the names of places like Pearle, Mississippi, West
Paducah, Kentucky, Jonesville, Arkansas, Fayetteville,
Tennessee, Springfield, Oregon and Littleton, Colorado (home
to one Columbine High School). This
was the season of the high profile school shootings. For a
while, it seemed like every time you turned on the television
or opened the newspaper, there was a report of one of our
nation’s schools being subject to attack. That was the scene
when our seniors became teenagers. And what made these
shootings so troubling was where they were happening. They
were happening in the suburbs. These shootings were happening
in “nice” communities, where the “good” kids lived,
where “we” lived. The kids involved looked like the kids
we knew. And to these brand new teenagers who are now ready to
graduate, these kids looked like them. Every night on the
news, we were confronted by the struggles, problems, fears,
angers, angst and hopes of middle class, suburban, “nice”
kids. Remember all of those television interviews with the
people from those communities? Time after time, someone would
say in disbelief, “This kind of stuff isn’t
supposed to happen here, not to us” (as if it
was okay or at least understandable when it happened there,
to them). Today’s graduating seniors began their
teenage years with the feeling that this kind of tragedy could
happen to them. Fast-forward
two years. Today’s seniors are now freshman in high school.
They are no more than two or three weeks into the biggest
social transition in their lives when the world just seemed to
stop one Tuesday morning. Today’s graduating seniors started
their high school career in the year 2001, and on the morning
of September 11, the uncertainty and reality of school
shootings in the years prior now seemed to be happening on a
global scale. More than just two towers fell that morning. A
generation’s innocence did, as well. In the four
years since 9/11, these teens have seen wars started in
Afghanistan and Iraq, the continued escalation of violence in
Israel/Palestine, and a growing nuclear threat from North
Korea and Iran. They have come of age during a time of both
technological boom and economic uncertainty. They feel they
live in a country deeply divided between the Reds and the
Blues and wonder if there is any common ground. They have seen
sexual abuse scandals damage the integrity of religious
institutions, corporate scandals damage the integrity of
economic institutions, and political infighting and scandals
damage the integrity of our governmental institutions.
Today’s teenagers encounter a world where the systems and
organizations that provided stability and guidance for
generations past seem to no longer be able to do so. Today’s
graduates move out into a world that is changing faster and
appears more uncertain than ever. Consider
these statistics. Over one-third of high school seniors used
drugs in the last thirty days.
Over fifty percent used alcohol in the last thirty
days, while nearly half of tenth graders and over a third of
eighth graders did so. These might seem like just some more
ho-hum statistics in the world of substance abuse, except that
these students live in one of the most affluent counties in
the country, and attend school in highly-acclaimed school
districts. These students live here. These
statistics come from a recent study published by the Kercher
Center for Social Research at Western Michigan University,
which has looked at the trends of adolescent drug use in our
own Oakland County. The data from this study may surprise us.
It suggests that the amount of substance abuse by teenagers in
our community is above the national average, and surpasses
abuse rates found among lower-income urban youth. These
findings were in keeping with another study entitled
“Privileged but Pressured? A Study of Affluent Youth” by
Columbia University psychology professor Suniya Luthar. Her
study was one of the first to analyze teen alcohol and drug
use based on socioeconomic class. Students completed
questionnaires about their alcohol and drug use, their family
relationships and their emotional well-being. Overall, the
study found high levels of stress and substance abuse among
those teens who reported the most pressure to achieve
academically and in extracurriculars, as well as those who
felt a high expectation to secure high-income jobs in the
future. This
struggle of being privileged and pressured will be especially
difficult for this generation. To fully appreciate this, we
must realize that this generation of teenagers, who make up
the Millennial Generation, are bigger in number than the Baby
Boomers by almost three million. Census projections suggest
that between the years 2001 and 2011, there will be a
sixteen-percent increase in the number of students on our
nation’s college campuses. Colleges and universities will
feel a numbers crunch unlike any they have had in the past.
There will be greater competition to get into universities and
colleges. The Harvards, Princetons, Stanfords and Michigans
are all finding themselves flooded with applicants. Students
who once were able to get into the top colleges of their
choice will find that they will be passed up. What does that
mean? The students I see every week know what it means. It means straight A’s are not enough. As a result, college-bound Millennials are under great pressure to be exceptional in every area of their lives. There are high and sometimes unattainable standards of success to achieve. They are building power resumes from day one of their high school experience. Many teens I know feel as if their test scores and GPAs are the measure of their worth. Some find it hard to juggle the demands of sports practices, dance lessons, music lessons, school work and church commitments, each with their own set of expectations, without succumbing to the stress. Without a doubt, of the stresses on the students who come to me, it is this overwhelming pressure to excel that burdens them the most. And what is the result of this stress? I have seen it manifested in students’ lives in all of the following ways: drinking, drug use, stealing, vandalism, promiscuity, pregnancy, depression, cutting, eating disorders, and thoughts of suicide. How
are we to respond to the issues of today’s young people? How
can we create a faith community that touches the places of
their greatest need? I believe our text tells a story that
offers some insight into what it might mean to create a
community of transformation for our young people. It is the
story of Jesus and his young followers. It is a story about
two sisters and their little brother, Lazarus. Lazarus is not
an important individual. Nothing is special about him. He
holds no titles, no places of honor or power. No, there is
nothing special about him except that Jesus loves him. He is
referred to as “the beloved Lazarus whom Jesus loved.”
Loved by Jesus. I guess that is where any sermon about
teenagers has got to begin: They are loved by Jesus. Lazarus was
sick. So his sisters sent word to Jesus, and Jesus did
something kind of bizarre. He did not come immediately. He was
evoking the tradition that he may not be there when you want,
but he’ll be there on time. Except he didn’t show up on
time, and before he could get there, Lazarus died. So when
Jesus showed up, the two sisters were angry and frustrated
with him. They
were aggravated, disillusioned and upset with Jesus. They were
angry because Jesus didn’t come when they thought he should
have. He wasn’t there when they needed him, and so Mary fell
down at Jesus’ feet and cried, “If you were here… If you
were here, then none of this would have happened.” When I
worked in the African-American community, the teens there had
a mantra they would say to each other and to the adults who
worked with them: “Keep it real.” Keep it real. Create an
environment where we can be honest. Create a relationship
where I can be honest with you and you can do the same for me.
Keep it real. Right here, at the beginning of this text, we
see Jesus creating a space for young people to be real—to be
real about their feelings, real about their anxieties and
grief, and real about their anger, even their anger with him.
“If you were here, then none of this would have happened.” Keeping it
real is the first step in creating communities of healing and
transformation for our young people. We have to create space
and relationships where youth can be honest about their fears.
We need to be there to listen when they are angry with the
world, with their friends, with us. “If you were there…If
my parents hadn’t split up…If my dad hadn’t lost his
job…If I didn’t have all of this pressure…If I could
just tell my parents how I felt…then maybe none of this
would have happened.” Keeping it real. Allowing teens to be
real. Herein lies the first of our clues to transforming this
community. Jesus’
response to Mary shows us how to keep it real. Lazarus is
dead, and Jesus is so touched by Mary’s emotions that he is
moved to respond. His response is so interesting, so different
than we might expect. When confronted with such anger and
accusation (“Where have you been?”), Jesus doesn’t get
defensive. He doesn’t scold them for their emotional
outburst or blame them for the mess they found themselves in.
And he doesn’t ask them if they want to pray the prayer of
faith, or if they have a church home, or when was the last
time they had been to Sunday school or youth fellowship.
Instead, Jesus asks, “Where have you laid him?” He is
saying, “I want to go where the pain is. I want to know
where the hurt is. That is where I want to go.” “Take me
to where you have laid him.” That is how
we help create relationships and community that can be healing
and transforming for our young people. It happens by going
with them to where the pain is in their lives. By asking them
to take us there, by allowing us to accompany them to the
places where fear, suffering, anger and death reside. “Tell
me what it feels like…” “The next time you find yourself
in that spot, I want you to call me…” “I don’t know
what that is like, but I want you to explain it to me.
I want to listen. I want to understand.” “Take me
to the place where the pain is.” “Take me to where you
have laid him.” And when
Jesus shows up on the scene and is moved by the women’s
pleas, we find perhaps two of the most beautiful and profound
words in scripture: “Jesus wept.” Jesus had the audacity
and courage to be broken. When confronted by the agony of
Lazarus’ death, Jesus doesn’t try to explain it away. He
does not try to push it aside. He doesn’t patronize Mary and
Martha with clichés about how this is one of those life
lessons, and although they do not know it now, the pain will
ease with time. No, Jesus weeps. He feels their pain. He
allows his heart to be broken too by the things that have
broken the hearts of his young followers. Jesus is moved to
tears by the suffering of the young ones in his midst. Church, I
wonder if there are those among you who are willing to weep
with our young people, who
are willing to be moved by the pain and circumstances they are
wrestling with? Jesus wept. Will we? Will we weep with young
hearts broken for the first time? Will we weep with those who
have been touched by the death of a grandparent, parent,
friend or teacher? Will we weep with young minds that have
been crushed by the sense that they will never measure up to
the expectations of others? Will we weep with young souls hurt
by bad decisions and temptation and looking for a way out?
Jesus wept for them and with them. We are called to do the
same. From there,
the story moves quickly. The stone from the tomb is rolled
away, a prayer of thanksgiving is offered, and Jesus stands at
the foot of the tomb and calls in loud voice, “Lazarus, come
out!” Jesus calls Lazarus out from the condition of
suffering and death into new life and new possibilities. Jesus
calls Lazarus back to the condition that God had always
intended for him. To the world, Lazarus’ condition was
permanent, final, the end of the story. But because Jesus saw
the world with the eyes of faith and trusted in the power of
God, where others saw only death, Jesus saw life. Where others
saw only tragedy, Jesus saw opportunity. Where others saw only
an ending, Jesus saw a beginning. “Lazarus, come out! Come
and receive your second chance! Come out and be the child of
God you have been created to be. Come and live!” That is the
essence of ministry to and with youth. Calling them and being
called by them to be our best selves. If we are committed to
having our church be a transforming place for today’s teens,
then we must help teens find the call that God has placed on
their lives. Ask a teenager how they think the world perceives
them, and they will use words like lazy, apathetic,
disrespectful, troublemakers, punks, potheads and selfish. But
if we are to take today’s scripture seriously, if we are to
see the world through the eyes of faith, then we will see
these young people as valuable and indispensable members of
the Body of Christ without whom creation is not complete. I am
fortunate to have the job I do because I get to see this side
of our youth all the time. Like the young man who told us
around the campfire of the tough year he had because of some
bad choices he made and encouraged the younger kids to take a
different road, or the time the self-declared atheist chose to
step into the prayer circle to thank the group for loving and
accepting him, or watching kids help other kids overcome a
fear or challenge (whether it’s a fear of heights on a roof
in Memphis or not knowing anyone at their first night of
Fellowship), or listening to our youth pray for each other.
Let us continue to build communities that call youth to love
God with all their heart, mind and soul, and to love their
neighbors as themselves. “Lazarus, come out!” Our
story closes with a great scene. Lazarus emerges from the
tomb, wrapped in his burial clothing, groping around. Jesus
has the last word in our story. Seeing Lazarus still confined,
still caught in his old circumstances, Jesus says to those
around him, “Unbind him and let him go!” Jesus doesn’t
unbind him. He doesn’t tell Lazarus to unbind himself. He
tells his followers to do it. “Unbind him…liberate
him…free him…release him and let him live.” I believe that our text today calls us to do the same for the young people in our lives and in our church.
“Unbind
them and let them go!” Brothers
and sisters, I stand here before you today to say that if we
are to become a community that will be a life-giving place for
today’s teens, then we need more adults who are committed to
being a part of God’s ministry to them. We need more voices
to do the calling and more hands to do the unbinding. We need
you. It does not matter how old you are. It does not matter
how much experience you have. There is a place for every one
of you in the ministry to and with our young people.
Won’t you
join us? Won’t you add your talents and gifts to build the
future of our church? We need you. God needs you. The youth of
our community need you. But before you accept this invitation,
I have to issue a warning. You, too, will be changed. It is
simply bound to happen. Notes: The statistics about Oakland County teen drug and alcohol use come from the cover article of the Birmingham/Bloomfield Area Coalition’s fall newsletter, entitled “Privileged and Pressured.” The statistics about increases on college campuses come from a book entitled Making God Real for a New Generation by Craig Kennet Miller and Maryjane Pierce Norton. The creative interpretation of the Lazarus story in John’s gospel was adapted from a powerful sermon I heard preached by the Rev. Sedou Odinga at the Seminary Consortium for Urban Pastoral Education (SCUPE) Annual Conference in the spring of 2001.
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