Extending an Invitation—Again!

 

Luke 4:14-21

 

14 Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. 15 He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone. 16 When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, 17 and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him.  He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:

18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, 19 to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.”

20 And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21 Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

           

[This sermon was preached on January 21, 2001, at First Congregational Church of Somerville, MA during Sunday morning worship.]

 

Have you ever been to the T stop in the middle of Harvard Square? 

 

There always seems to be a small crowd of young adults there.  Not just your average group—a very colorful group of young adults.  They’ve all got pink hair, blue hair, purple hair, most of them have chains and leather pants, funky shoes.

 

To someone like me, they look pretty odd.  But what do I know?  To them I probably look pretty square.

 

Last month I was waiting for friend was coming in from the airport.  Her flight was delayed—surprise, surprise—so I got to sit there for a while. 

 

And as I was waiting, I couldn’t help but watch these quote on quote “freaks.”  There conversation seemed normal.  They laughed like anyone else.  One of them bought take out food and they were all sharing it.

 

I was there for about 20 minutes when I realized that I couldn’t imagine one of these kids going to church on a Sunday morning.  I couldn’t imagine a church that would be comfortable with these pink-haired people in their pews.  But what was most interesting to me was that I couldn’t imagine those kids feeling comfortable while sitting in a pew in most churches.

 

Why is that?  Why don’t pink-haired young adults come to church?

 

Well, Greg, that’s simple!  They don’t want to come to church.

 

This may be true, but why don’t they want to come to church?  Why is church for us a place of community and hope and support?  And for them, it’s the most boring hour one could imagine?

 

Is there something in the message, something in the gospel that makes church unappealing to young adults?  Or is it something in our tradition, our presentation?

 

Is it what we’re saying or how we’re saying it?

 

To answer this question, I have been trying to look at church from their perspective.

 

What does the average church look like for them, from the outside?

 

This is what I came up with:

 

It’s a place where you have to dress up.  You have to bow your head and recite prayers in a monotone voice.  Stand up, sing, sit down, no! Just kidding! Keep standing!  There is a whole choreography that the group has to follow, with no place for the individual to break out.  You hear little buzzwords like: “salvation,” “sin,” and “grace;” words that don’t mean a whole lot on their own and may not resonate in your own experience.  You can’t talk about sex, or politics or drugs; you can’t be gay; you can’t disagree with the preacher.  But that’s ok, because you can never stay awake for the entire sermon anyway.

 

I know, I know, it sounds pretty harsh but it’s exactly how I felt in high school.  In the past few months, I’ve been meeting and talking with a lot of the people, some who are in church and some who are not.  A lot of them feel this way, or felt this way in the past.

 

The underlying thought behind all of it is the impression that you can’t be yourself at church.  The young adults in Harvard Square would have to leave their leather jackets and nose rings behind.  They wouldn’t be able to talk about what they did on a Friday night because going to church means leaving part of who you are, leaving part of the life that you lead at the door. 

 

[pause]

 

I know what that feels like.  For a long time, I felt that I wasn’t allowed to talk about the fact that I am gay.  I thought I wasn’t supposed to be gay at all.  I thought that it didn’t have any relevance to my relationship with God.  If I were to talk about being gay, it would interfere with that relationship.  At the very least, it would interfere or distract someone else in the church.  Therefore I had to leave a big part of my experience at the door.  And because of that my relationship with God had little impact on the rest of my life.

 

Is this why pink-haired young adults don’t want to come to church?  Is this why young adults in general don’t want to come to church?

 

This is how I imagine pink-haired kids from Harvard Square feel: if they come to church, they have to straighten up and leave who they are at the door.  If they want to be one of God’s children, they need to be like everyone else.

 

That’s so not what being Christian is about.  Being Christian is about gathering together around a table.  Being Christian is about extending an invitation to the people at the fray; it’s about welcoming.

 

In today’s scripture reading, Jesus reads from Isaiah: “God has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free…”

 

In the time that Jesus lived, the poor, the captives and the blind were more than just people who had a rough life.  They were the outcasts, the society’s throwaways.  They were the ancient version of pink-haired young adults.  They were excluded from participating in society because they didn’t fit the mold of what was normal.

 

But when Jesus says “the scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing,” he is saying: “Those people who you cast away?  Those ones you thought were odd?  They are worthy of God’s love.  And they should be invited back to the table, back into the life of society.  And they should be welcome for who they are.”

 

Jesus spent his life inviting people.  He did this over dinner.  He ate with tax collectors—I mean, who likes tax collectors?—he ate with the people society thought were unworthy.  This was a big deal for that culture.  Imagine your favorite political leader – go ahead, pick one – imagine them walking into McDonalds and just as you’re about to take a bite of your Big Mac when they ask you: “My I join you?”

 

Jesus didn’t just say that these people were worthy.  He went to their homes and sat with them, cared about who they WERE, what they thought.

 

Are you holding anything back?  When you come to church, when you come to the table, do you leave something at the door?  Are you afraid it will get in the way?

 

[pause]

 

We are all worthy of God’s love.

 

Jesus knows who we are, where we came from and what we’ve been through.  It is precisely because Jesus knows what we’ve been through, that he invites us to the table.

 

Communion is very important to me.  It is how we continue Jesus’ ministry and Jesus’ invitation.  We make a table, and we say that it is open to everyone.  We invite people to join us around it.  And at the table, I know that I am welcome.

 

The Life in the bread: knowing that someone is watching over me and encouraging me forward.  The Grace from the cup: knowing that whenever I stumble or fall flat on my face, God is there to pick me up.  The Good News that a child of God was born on this earth and when he died he was resurrected that we may have eternal life in Heaven.  The whole story, it all includes to me.  And it includes to you.  We can bring all of who we are to the table and know that we will not be turned away.

 

Is this the message that is turning young adults away?  Is this the message that bores pink-haired people?

 

I don’t think so.

 

It may be easy to assume that pink haired young adults don’t want to come to church.  It’s easier to make being a young adult a phase… to assume that as soon as they grow up, they’ll come back.  But that’s not the gospel message.  Jesus didn’t set the table and then wait and see if people would come.

 

As a congregation we need to be rooted in the gospel.  We need to extend an invitation to the people who aren’t here.  We need to make our invitation explicit and our welcome inclusive.

 

And we can do it.  This church has done it before.  The decision to be Open and Affirming was a seven year process of creating an inclusive welcome.  When I arrived in Boston in October I was searching for a spiritual home.  I found it here.  I felt welcome because this church had taken the time to say, we accept you as one of God’s children.

 

This reminds me of when I was a kid.  After being nagged for weeks, I would finally break down and spend a Saturday afternoon—which is an eternity when you’re 8 years old—and cleaned my room.  At the end of the day, exhausted from all that work, my mother would say to me:  “It’s a good staart!”

 

ONA was a good start—a big start.  But we have to continue to do the same work for young adults.   We have to reevaluate who we assume this church is for.  We have to be willing to risk inviting people who look different than we do.  Creating an inclusive welcome, and extending an invitation is not a program, or a 5-step solution.  It’s an ongoing process that never ends.

 

When I was in Harvard Square, I watched these young adults.  But I couldn’t bring myself to talk to them.  After praying about this and after writing this sermon, I want to go back.  This time, I don’t want to just watch the pink-haired people; I want to introduce myself.  I want to ask them how their day is going and listen to what they have to say.  I’m not going to try to convince them that they need to go to church.  I’m not going to try to make them look like us, make them dress up on Sunday mornings, make them stand up, sing, and sit down.

 

It’s going to be hard, really hard and scary.  It’s going to be hard because I assume, as you probably do too, they don’t want to hear what we have to say.  After all, if they were interested, wouldn’t they be here in church already?  No.  Not necessarily. 

 

How we present our message must always be revised so that what we’re saying can come through.  We need to do this because someone may want to hear the gospel.  There may be a young adult with pink hair, or black hair, brown hair, even blonde hair, who’s looking for God or who’s just starting to ask the question, what else is there?

 

Is there someone you know whose not here?  Who are your pink-haired people?

 

Will you encourage me to go to Harvard Square and talk to those young adults?  Can I encourage you to extend an invitation to someone?

 

God’s with us, and God will watch over us.  Let’s do this together.

 

Thanks be to God.

 

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