Pastor Luke preached from notes for this sermon. 

The kids are always asking me how I can believe in science and the bible. For me, the bible is truer than mere facts. The power of scripture is when we get to the mythic history, we find that we have lived it. More on that later.

There are many options in your life. Many doors you can choose from. All the careers you could have. The people you could date. The places you could go to eat. We have a lot of options in our lives. I tried to think of some doors we have no choice over. I came up with three.

The first door we have no choice over is the entrance. Our birth. At least, I don’t remember choosing this. I just started having memories one day and mysteriously developed a personality. It didn’t happen all at once. We exist! Now what?!

The third door is the exit door. The final door of death. Hate to break it to you, but we will all one day step over that threshold. This shouldn’t be news as we remind ourselves each Ash Wednesday. I have seen folks step through it way too soon. I have heard the cries of those who can’t seem to find the door, but are ready. The final door awaits us all.

The second door is our exit from childhood. And we have a great story from Genesis about leaving childhood. In the Jewish tradition, they don’t have creationists or original sin. They have a different interpretation and it’s one I really like. So if you like the original sin interpretation, I’m not trying to take it away. I’m adding this.

In Genesis 2, Adam appears. How? He came up from the ground. He learns the names of things. He eats from what the garden provides and life is easy. Eve shows up after a very lovely and deep sleep. How? From his side, he guesses.

We had our garden of childhood. We are learning names. We have to go to school? Why? Who cares. Who are these friends of ours? Who cares? They’re our buddies and we tumble around with them. When the lights come on, we head inside and food is magically on the table.

Then one day, we eat the fruit. We grow up. We realize the world is a big, scary, complex place. Our parents have histories and there was no stork that brought us here, we learn about the birds and the bees and other natural yet somehow surprising facts of how we got here.

Adam and Eve eat the fruit. They realize they’re naked. God shows up and gives them “curses.” But they’re really facts of life.

To the woman, God said, “I will greatly increase your pangs in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children, yet your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you.”

To the man, God said, “Because you listened to the voice of your wife and have eaten of the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You shall not eat of it.’ cursed is the ground because of you, in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life; thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you; and you shall eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground for out of it you were taken; you are dust and to dust you shall return.” (Genesis 3:16-19)

I remember when I first tasted the fruit. I would mow for with my Grandpa. He was a great mentor. He taught me how to mow. He taught me small engine repair. How to scrape the grass from the underside and make sure the mower is ready to go for the next time.

We just came back from vacation and the grass was long. I started mowing, but it started to drizzle. I kept going, trying to get the job done. Grandpa taught me never to leave a job unfinished. He was a first generation American and had that immigrant grind mentality. He would work in the brickyard and then come home and take care of the bees. (see this sermon on Brickyards and Bees, Pastor Luke’s first sermon)

The rain started coming down harder. I couldn’t mow. The mower would get gummed up with grass and it would shut off. So I went under the carport and cleaned the mower to get ready for next time. My Grandpa stormed up to me and told me to get out there and finish the job. I told him the mower was getting clogged with wet grass. He replied, “Then take it half swipes. Finish the job.”

I tried. But soon the half became a quarter and then the quarter felt like blade by blade. By this time the rain was coming down in sheets and I couldn’t see two feet in front of me. He’d have to understand. So I came under the carport again and he yanked the mower from me and went out to finish the job.

I had to have been 10 or so at the time. I thought… this man is crazy. This is just wrong. I learned two things that day. Adults can be wrong. And sometimes you can’t finish the job; the elements are stacked against you.

The bitter taste of that fruit is still with me. I remember it to this day. Last Sunday, I preached on our Parts and I introduced you to The General, my inner perfectionist and harshest critic. When the General speaks, he speaks in my Grandfathers voice. He is rooted here.

And that’s the power of holy scripture. If you tried to hope into a time machine and go back to the garden, there would be no moment. This isn’t history. It’s mythic history. And that’s not a put down, that’s an upgrade. It means that one day, you too will live this story out. You have just heard my exit from the garden. I’m sure that many of you have your own stories.

I’m sure you heard the problematic parts of Genesis 3 as well. “Your husband shall rule over you.” and “Because you have listened to your wife…” Jesus shows up with no wife and he’s listening to women and healing them and hanging out with them. He was corrected by a woman! He calls one a dog and she responds how even the dogs get the crumbs from the children’s table and he remembers that there’s a human in front of him. Jesus models an inclusive community.

In Mark 9:30-37, the disciples are on their way to Capernaum. They start arguing about who is the greatest. Peter says to the others, “I’m the best because Jesus is gonna give me the keys to heaven. Plus there’s going to be a great church in this city in Italy they’re going to name after me and a great artist is going to paint the ceiling!”

James speaks up, “No. I’m the greatest. It’s nice you get a little city in Italy, but I get a whole pilgrimage trail in Northern Spain! I have miles!”

These jokes would have killed in seminary. Church history nerd here.

Jesus politely asks what they’re talking about. But you and I know that he already knows. But they were silent. Then Jesus puts them and every future Christian in their place.

It’s not about the size of your building or choir or praise band. It’s not how many private jets and rolex watches your pastor has. It’s not who follows all the doctrines the best… it’s who serves. Whoever welcomes the children.

That’s why Christian nationalism gets me spitting mad. The stance there is “we’re the greatest, we know best. You will all do this our way.” Which is completely counter to the way of Christ. If you want to be great, serve. If someone is behind you, you go behind them. The place of the Christian is last place. Forget all that hierarchy nonsense.

For we all need community. We need to serve as others have served us. We each need a Timothy, a Barnabas, and a Paul.

A Timothy is an apprentice. Someone whom you’re mentoring. This could be a child or grandchild. This could be in the Kidz Connected program. This could be someone at work whom you’re showing the ropes.

A Barnabas is a peer. Someone around your age. Someone around the same stage of life as you who gets all your pop culture references and slang. Someone you can share life with and who has a similar perspective as you do.

A Paul is a mentor. Someone who can write you letters, “Dear Church in Corinth, please wait until everyone is off work to have communion and don’t fight so much because love is patient and kind and doesn’t insist on it’s own way.” A voice of someone who knows the ropes, and who has been where you are, but they are now further down the road.

We need the power of community because that’s how we learn. We need to place a children as the priority for they are the least among us. There is a question in Africa that is asked that the Rev. Traci Blackmon brought to us. They ask, “How is it with the children?”

It is not well. They are over-scheduled, given too much screen time, and anxiety levels are reached all time highs. Here’s the thing: we as the church will never outproduce Hollywood. We will never be as cool as Disney or the social media influencer. However, they will never have the community we do. The face-to-face interactions, and nothing beats fear like a face. The slow work of relationships. We must learn to work slow in these fast times. For slowing down gives us a broader perspective and a deeper wisdom.

When we are consistent. When we are patient. When we are mentoring, we are closer to Christ.

I came across a program. It’s called Think Orange. It is what happens when the red love of the family meets the yellow light of the church… we think orange. It’s a lovely image of the church and a great program for intergenerational ministry. That is our true hope and power in this world. It’s not being cool. It’s not being the greatest. It’s serving one another as Christ served us. It’s finding the love of God present in our lives and giving that love to others.

We need role models for the three doors of life. We need to celebrate and welcome the new arrivals who just got here. We need to help transition folks from the threshold of childhood into the world of being an adult. And the final door awaits us all. We need models of how to transition well from this life to the great adventure that awaits us all. And we need mentors who can teach us how to grieve. May we know that their love lives in us still.

And that love has been passed down from generation to generation. From the upper room all the way to us. We have been well mentored. And your generation is now, and you are here. Thanks be to God. Amen.