May 17 ~ May We Not Look to the Heavens to Wait for Change, but Choose a Kinder Path Here on Earth.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/3ef8bd_88ea80cc01774a828c2b34d34adf36b3/720p/mp4/file.mp4

Acts 1:6-14

Psalm 68:1-10, 32-35

1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11

John 17:1-11

Sermon by Pastor Joel

I recently watched a panel clip talking about the characteristics of Gen Zs. This is the generation that came after Millennials, identified partly because they can’t remember where they were during 9/11, or a time before the iPhone. They are now, depending on how you count them, between 15 and 29 years old – and, if you know and love some of them, you also know they don’t have it easy. Entry level job postings have dropped in half, from last year to this. Climate change is worsening. Most of them, in surveys, don’t expect ever to own a house. They are, according to their own assessment of life satisfaction, the unhappiest 20-something generation we have had in modern Canada, And before our eyes, we are seeing inequality expand in a single generation – between those whose parents have the money for tuition and downpayments and the connections for jobs, and those who don’t.

In that uncertain world, it’s obvious why this group, according to research, appears more risk-averse than past young people. The higher the potential cost of risk, the less any of us are likely to take it. But the Gen Z on this panel had another explanation as well – and listening to it made me feel even more sorrow for my kids. If young people aren’t going out as much anymore, aren’t dating, aren’t dancing – money is a factor.

But it’s also because they can’t trust they won’t be filmed doing their goofy dance moves – and then go viral to mockery on TikTok. They can’t trust that a date that doesn’t work out won’t end up being hashed out online. In some cases, our phones act rightly to police behaviour - the creep at the gym who won’t leave a woman alone, ICE on the streets of Minnesota. Even the most well-meaning people say dumb things and act badly in ways they regret. And the panelist said Gen Zs, who grew up in this world of social media know, know better than anyone, that any private mistake or imperfection can become a public shaming.

How does this fit into our readings this morning? Let’s recap.

In our first lesson, we are told not to look to heaven for Jesus to come; he will arrive again, the same way he came the first time.

The psalmist is in a mood – venting about God’s enemies, and the wicked perishing, the rebels banished to the desert. It sounds, to be honest, like the kind of polarized talk we hear today. Indeed, who are the rebels who deserve to thirst in the desert – the frustrated Gen Zer who paints a dinosaur to protest climate change? The young people pointing out that the traditional definition of happiness – based on the accumulation of material wealth and career titles by a certain age - isn’t working anymore?

In our Second Lesson, then, we have Peter, warning us that those who follow the gospel will be scorned by the world. “Like a roaring lion, our adversary—the devil prowls around you,” we are told, “looking for someone to devour.” We are then to be disciplined, steadfast, and humble.

And finally, there is Jesus, asking for God to look after the world, to care for those who follow the gospel, to protect those people so they may be one.

If I am honest, taken together, the readings challenge me – they have a sense of othering that makes me uncomfortable. Of one group being in, and another being out. Missing is the forgiveness and openness that characterizes the ministry of Jesus. There is nothing mentioned of rescuing or providing care to the lost sheep. If someone were sitting here, knowing nothing of the New Testament and hearing this for the first time, they would think the gospel was judgmental and intolerant, ready to cast a questioner out into the desert. That gospel would tell us when we see someone doing something wrong, or making a mistake, to haul out our phone and get it on video, for persecution later.

But of course, hidden within the words, we may find another meaning. The disciples in the first lesson are being reminded that Jesus was not a king; he was the child of an ordinary family, who worked hard and listened to people, and did what he thought was right. He approached people’s failings with empathy. He said: “Tell me your story.” He asked: “How can I help?” He grew up just like us, and he set the example of responding to the pain and weakness of others with kindness.

Who of us haven’t been the Psalmist, raging against those who wronged or systems that are failing, looking for it all to be solved by God, or government, or anyone else? In doing so, we forget how much we control ourselves. Our own actions decide what our communities are like. Our choices determine the world we leave to our children. When our spouses and friends make mistakes, we decide whether to shame them or support them. The government can put rules on social media for instance, but we can also choose to put down our phones when someone is behaving badly and try to intervene to make things better.

And yes, we need to be alert to the roaring devil lion – indeed we do. For the lion roars mostly within our own minds and hearts, and its voice comes out of our own mouths. The lion roars when we bicker between generations and forget we are all connected, when we join in the snickering about some viral video. The lion makes us feel like victims surrounded by people out to get us. It prevents us from seeing the world as nuanced and complicated. It prevents us from understanding we all want the same thing: to be free and loved and seen as worthy.

And finally, we have Jesus – and what is his appeal to God really saying? Is it even meant for God – or is it meant for us? Behind those words, I hear Jesus saying: given the chance, people are good. Sometimes, they rise above everything else and are amazing. But they are not perfect. They will promise to be faithful, and they will, more times than they like to admit, be faithless. I will plead with them to unite, but they will bicker and compete amongst themselves. Still, they try, and that makes them worthy.

And so, we are reminded – in this difficult world, where our own children fear the shame of public censure, where we are so quick to judge and divide – that Jesus was us, and we are Jesus, with power to choose a kinder path. That anger may make enemies of those who would be allies. That we must be disciplined against the devil lion that lurks within us. And that despite everything we do wrong, Jesus, who saw us for all our failings, asked God to love and protect us – so that we would do the same.

Everyone in this world deserves to dance, free and happy and with wild abandon. May we not look to the heavens and wait for that to happen. May we make the choice within our own hearts and minds to choose the kinder path in all that we do and say.

Amen