The journey to acceptance of difference starts with simple
presence, it starts with familiarity, it starts with understanding. Marty and I started that process with young
people who matter to us.
I taught Sunday school for several years. From the time our son Matt was in high school
until daughter Erin graduated I taught their Sunday school classes. It was the best way to ensure that the three
of us got up and went to church, it seemed right.
In those years of teaching I rarely went long without being
taught, without learning more about my own faith than I could ever impart to 15
year olds who mostly came for the donuts.
It’s still the same, the more I think I know, the more I
want to educate, the more I find out from those around me.
After Marty and I had met with the youth of our church I
walked out of the church refreshed, optimistic and feeling renewed. Marty had risen above her natural self
consciousness and apprehension and had listened and talked. She was involved, funny and, well, Marty,
confined yet not defined by her circumstance.
Those kids listened, they turned their young minds to us,
they paid attention, and more importantly they moved beyond the tendency of
focusing on self. They focused on Marty
and her life and I think they got to know her just a little; they got to know
Marty as I know her.
I don’t know if they heard everything I was saying, it doesn’t
matter if they heard everything, they clearly heard some things and they were
attentive to Marty and maybe, just a little, tried to get into her head and her
life.
We talked about Marty; we talked about our life, our old
normal, our new normal, our faith, and our lack thereof, or more precisely, my
lack thereof. Marty has never wavered
in her faith in a higher power, in fact, her faith has only gotten stronger. She was always stronger than me.
I pointed out to these young minds how they are connected to
Marty and how Marty is forever connected to our church, the people in the
church and in particular the young people in our church. I told them about Marty’s work with the youth
program and how the program was stronger and how Marty was stronger for her
efforts.
I talked about Marty and how serious she took her
commitments and that one of those commitments was to our children and the
children our church. I talked about how
important the baptismal promise was to Marty, that when she committed to
helping them with their faith at their baptism, she meant it and that was part
of why she was committed to the youth that came before them and why, even
interrupted, she was committed to the young people who were in the room with
her that night.
They listened politely with very few yawns and no cell
phones, they listened. They asked
questions, they asked good questions, they asked questions about feelings and
faith, they asked questions about doubt and anger, they asked questions about
simple living and dealing with fear and dying.
They were good questions that they directed not just at me but at
Marty…..and of course Marty rose to the occasion and answered.
At the end they all wrote affirmations, small notes on small
cards for Marty, for me, small words of encouragement and wisdom from those so
young. It’s a ritual of our youth
program and other youth programs that you leave these meetings with words of
faith, love and encouragement. I’ve felt
the love of young people before, it’s still there, it’s still powerful, it
still means a lot.
The affirmations expressed kindness, empathy and a very
simple wisdom, an understanding of what makes a whole person. One was a drawing, a simple drawing that very
neatly captured what we all want to believe about ourselves.
We started our journey with these young fertile minds that Sunday
evening. Any journey starts with steps,
this one started with being in each other’s presence and listening and talking
and learning.
I am moved by the openness, I am a captive of the compassion
of those so young. It is encouraging for
our life.
1 comment:
I resist reading your blog, Larry Kinard, because I know afterwards I will be left in a teary, snotty puddle on the floor. Once again, I was right. So thanks a lot for the mascara-streaked eyes and damp, red-nose for Halloween! *snif Seriously, thank you for your insight and beautiful words. I agree that the experience was good. Really GOOD - for all of us. I will be reading this entry to the youth group this Sunday.
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