A Word to the Confirmands of 2022 (Reflections on the Day of Pentecost)

 

The following post was composed as a sermon for the Day of Pentecost, 2022 and the Rite of Confirmation at Faith Lutheran Church of Philadelphia, PA. It is addressed to those who will affirm their baptisms on this festival Sunday. The appointed gospel lesson in the Revised Common Lectionary is John 14:8-17, 25-27.

 

“Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” (John 14:27b) 

People always remember where they were and what they were doing when horrific, paradigm-shifting events take place. There are still a few folks around who remember Pearl Harbor. Many more could tell you about the day President Kennedy was killed, the Challenger disaster, and 9/11. 

For me? A day that lives scalded in my memory is April 20, 1999. I was downstairs in the church’s lower auditorium. It was early evening. I forget what event we were having, but I vividly recall Laura Duffield coming downstairs asking if anybody had heard the news about a shooting at a high school in Littleton, Colorado. A school called Columbine. 

The world changed for me that day. As a kid in school and even in my years as a middle school teacher in Los Angeles I could never imagine such a ghastly thing—two students armed with powerful firearms strolling through a public school wantonly murdering their classmates. But you, my young friends, have never known a time before the term “active shooter” could apply to a place where you are supposed to be educated and kept safe. 

I worry about you. I pray for you. Jesus warns us in this gospel reading that the world does not give what he wants us to have—peace. I wish I could give you this peace. I wish I could give you faith. But I can’t. I can only give you information. 

I sometimes wonder if the rite you are about to receive, the promises you are about to make, or the sacrament you are about to affirm has any impact on you. We go through the motions, of course. You took the classes and now you put on the white robes and invite family and friends to hear your affirmation of faith, but so often this affirmation has become “graduation from church.” In my years at Faith I can name any number of families which have vanished like a bowl of Oreos in a room full of fourth-graders just as soon as the youngest child made Confirmation. It’s as if they feel they’ve paid their debt to God and are now free to sleep in on Sunday mornings. It’s like they’re saying, “The kids are confirmed, so now they won’t go to Hell.” That’s not religion. That’s superstition. 

I want more for you than that. 

Our time together has been complicated. COVID and the distance some of you live from church has caused us to rely on Zoom for our classes. You haven’t gotten to know each other. We haven’t had the time to go over all the things I wish we could’ve covered—things I think every Christian should know. Your religious studies are compartmentalized with schoolwork and sports and all the other stuff kids your age do. And, of course, you are the age you are. You’ve reached the stage where you are now capable of abstract thought, but you’re also at the stage of sullen indifference to anything your parents or teachers—including your pastor—might want to tell you. 

So I’m going to make one last attempt before you race away from these sacred walls to review the faith you are about to affirm. When you were baptized your parents promised to teach you the 10 Commandments, the Creed, and the Lord’s Prayer. Here’s the summary: 

God gave us the Law to protect us from lawlessness. It’s a good thing. It also shows us we’re not perfect. But when you know when you’re wrong, you’ll also know when you’re right. 

The Creed is just a summary of today’s gospel reading. God made the world, and it’s good. You need to respect it. God is present in Jesus who is love personified—selfless, a teacher, and a healer. In his compassion he came to share in all of our suffering, just as you’ll share in the suffering of those whom you love, and they will share with you. But as heirs of the resurrection, you’ll know this suffering has an end, and it is not the final word.

God’s spirit, the spirit of life, breath, inspiration, and creativity—the same spirt which was in Jesus and which burst forth from the disciples on that first Pentecost—is also in you. She will give you the talent to do the works Jesus did. You will heal others. You will forgive sins. You will feed the hungry. You will cast out demons—demons of racism, sexism, xenophobia, homophobia, and so many others. 

I’ve heard young people say they are “spiritual, but not religious.” I’m skeptical of this. It’s certainly possible to be religious without ever feeling the spirit of God. But I strongly doubt anyone has ever been spiritual without first experiencing the spiritual discipline of religion. To know the spirit is to seek her through the practice of prayer, worship, community, generosity, and living in a constant dialogue with Jesus, always asking that simple but poignant question: What would Jesus do?

I grieve that you must live in a world which has become so dangerous. I pray you will continue to embrace the faith you affirm today, a faith that will give you the peace the world cannot give. God is with you. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.