A Few Words For Our Youth

Acts 11:1-18

Psalm 148

Revelation 21:1-6

John 13:31-35

 

©2025 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

Holy God, may my words be your words and when my words are not your words, may your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

 

There’s a saying I’ve seen on a bumper sticker before that reads:
“Don’t make me come down there — Love, God.”

 

When seeing this, I imagine God with one eyebrow raised, holy hand scratching his blindingly bright beard, standing on a cloud, looking down at our mess and our mischief. But the truth is — God probably doesn’t look like this and more importantly, God did come down here! And not with a lightning bolt, but with sandals and stories and, above all else… love.

 

And today — on Youth Sunday — I’m convinced that the message God came to give through Jesus could not be clearer. In John’s Gospel account, Jesus reclined at the table with his disciples. And in this story of the last night before the cross, there is no Last Supper. Just this:

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you.”

 

Now, let’s pause for a second. When Jesus says something is a commandment, we should probably write that down. It’s not a suggestion from our incarnate influencer—this isn’t a divine recommendation. He doesn’t say, “Try love when you’re feeling holy” or “Maybe sprinkle in a dash of godliness when you want some zest.” No — he says: Love. One another. As I have loved you.

 

And how did Jesus love them? 

Well, he loved everyone—the bold ones and the shy ones. The fishermen and the tax collectors. He loved the ones who understood what he was saying and the ones who constantly asked, “Wait, what?” He loved Judas. He loved Peter — even after Peter denied knowing him. He loved through challenge, through wisdom, through healing, feeding, and sacrificing. And, his love had no exception clause, no footnotes, no expiration date. 

 

That’s the kind of love we’re talking about.

 

And here are two things I want every youth at Holy Apostles to know — and honestly, what I hope all of us remember:

1.    You are loved. Without limit. Without exception. Without end.

By God. By this church. By the people who make up this fun-loving, table-sharing, music-making, prayer-raising, Holy Apostles family.

 

2.    And — here's the second part — that love is not a souvenir. 

 

It’s not meant to sit on your shelf like your 3rd place ribbon from the science fair (although, well done!). It’s meant to be shared. Worn. Passed on. Like glitter at Vacation Bible School — it sticks to everything and everyone, and you can’t get rid of it.

 

You’re called to live out that love in real ways. In how you treat the new kid. In how you respond to hate or bullying. In how you show up when someone’s having a rough time. In how you include, rather than exclude.

 

Because, as Acts reminds us today — this love of God is for everyone. Peter has that weird picnic-blanket vision — you know, the one where animals come down from the sky like a heavenly food court — and it becomes clear that God's love is for all people. No one is unclean. No one is left out. Love has no border.

 

And Revelation paints the vision even more beautifully: a new heaven, a new earth, a world where every tear is wiped away. That’s where all this is going. And between now and then, our job is to love like that future is already true.

 

So — if you forget everything else from your years at Holy Apostles (even the doughnuts at Sunday School), I hope you remember this:

You are beloved. Always.
And your life’s work — wherever you go — is to love like Jesus. Loudly. Boldly. Graciously.

Not because it’s easy. But because it’s who we are.
And because the world needs it.

 

And remember — when in doubt, just love. You’ll be doing the holiest work of all.

 

Amen.

 

A House United

Our EYC Work Week shirts for this year.

This sermon was preached at St. John's Church, Decatur, AL on Sunday, June 10, 2018. The readings for the day were the following:
1 Samuel 8:4-11, (12-15), 16-20, (11:14-15)
Psalm 138
2 Corinthians 4:13-5:1

Mark 3:20-35

Human beings have developed an impressive skill. All across the world we are good at observing differences among people. Whether it’s a contrast in creed, skin color, gender, sexual orientation, nationality, socioeconomic status, or favorite ice cream flavor, no two people on this planet are exactly the same. We see the variety of people so easily. But, why is that? Why do we notice differences so well?

From a scientific point of view, our species grew and evolved over the years. And, as we did we needed to spot differences in the environment around us to survive. So, whether our ancestors were looking for a certain plant hidden within an overgrown forest or watching out for a lurking predator camouflaged in the prairie, we needed to see patterns and how they differ. Thus, humans developed a great skill of seeing patterns and differences. Some scientists even state that we are the resulting descendants of the best pattern-spotters from the past. This ability of seeing differences and making split-second decisions based on what we observe though is not without some harmful side effects. 

Our ability to make connections and find patterns can have some drawbacks. People have “heard” voices in radio static, “seen” images of the Virgin Mary on a slice of toast, and even “believe” in radical conspiracies against mountains of evidence to the contrary. Put bluntly, sometimes people see patterns where there are none.

Unfortunately, in our God-given abilities to observe patterns we do not also have an innate nonsense test. That is to say, we do not know instantly if the pattern we see is real or a trick of our mind. Stereotypes and prejudices may have started as the result of an actual experience someone had, but why hold onto them against new contradicting evidence? What about when we see a false positive? What happens when we see something that truly is not there?

With our great ability to spot differences, we may even go overboard. It is almost as though we are looking for differences—seeking them out when they are not even there. Our God-given abilities to connect the dots have made us so good at noticing how we are dissimilar that we do not perceive how alike we truly are. On top of this our own experience of spotting differences has made it so easy to distance ourselves from one another.

And, so we do what the crowd did to Jesus. We call each other names. We think that the odd other person has come from Satan. And, we divide the kingdom and split the house because we think that we are on separate missions competing for limited resources. If we are pretty good at spotting patterns, we are even better at splitting things up when we get scared of what we see. But, if we honestly believe we are not meant to be divided, but unified, if as followers of Jesus we trust he will unite us, if we truthfully think that we are called to be ruled by the love of God, then what do we do?

Jesus will not say it for another seven chapters in Mark’s Gospel account, but we must be like little children. We are called to see the world through the eyes of little ones. Little ones are not instantly good at separating things that are different. They do not come out of the womb with the skill of segregation. In fact, that seems to be a sinful plague that perpetually infects us. Instead, what I have noted picking up my son at daycare is an inherit gift children possess: they do not yet note differences.

It matters not a classmate’s skin color or biological sex or religion or economic status or parent’s political affiliation. Little children play together, cry together, laugh together, and teach each other to scoot and crawl, hug and talk. But, we forget this worldview and in its place we get good at spotting all our differences.

Perhaps we would live life more fully if we would remember the perspective of a child. If we would receive the reign of Jesus as a child. If we would remember Maya Angelou’s beautiful observation in her poem Human Family, “We are more alike, my friends/than we are unalike./We are more alike, my friends/than we are unalike.” But, today of all days, this may be particularly difficult. As, it feels particularly easy to get divisive.

It is easy to get divisive not only because we have tribal politics between Republicans and Democrats. Not just because our society seems determined to separate and tear at each other. Not simply because we self-segregate many times and especially on Sunday mornings. But also because we here at St. John’s may be worried about what is going to happen in our church moving forward. It is easy right now to get scared and contentious. In times of transition when we celebrate bittersweet news, it is quite easy to form camps that are disparate and desperate. So what do we do?

While they are not children, I saw some beautiful examples of how teenagers receive the Kingdom of God this week. Our Episcopal Youth Community (EYC) spent several days in Corpus Christi and Port Aransas, TX completing relief work in the wake of Hurricane Harvey. The youth endured sunburn, windburn, and attacks from sand. They went through changes in plans, sleeping on deflating air mattresses, and weak shower pressure. They overcame cramped working conditions, learning new skills, and riding in the church bus (a lot!). All the while they not only completed projects, but also modeled what a united house in the reign of God looks like.

For a couple days of the trip, our youth worked in the home of a woman named Wanda. Wanda is over 90 years old. She paid $5,000 to a contractor who partially installed some shoddy Sheetrock and then left town with most of her money. As our teenagers painted Wanda’s ceiling and fixed the patchy drywall, the nonagenarian took note of not only the work our teens did, but also how they did it. Wanda skeptically began watching our work from a back bedroom, but by the end of the first day of work she had moved in to the living area where our group worked.

As we were about to leave, she said something to us. Wanda told us thank you for what we did, as she was grateful. Then, she voiced something else. She expressed how amazed she was at how well all of our youth got along while working. There was not bickering or fighting, just working hard and laughing all the while. She was right. As we made our way back home by way of New Orleans I kept this observation close at hand. While our youth were putting a house back together, they were modeling what a house united under Jesus might look like.

A house divided will not stand. We can so easily spot differences between us; however, these distinctions do not have to separate us. If we are to live as a family—brothers and sisters of Jesus, adopted children of God, united in the Spirit, then we must seek unity over estrangement. We must find communion even when things are difficult, even when we are frustrated, hurt, or angry, even when the world seems mad!

But, how will we live together? How will we be a house united? Pray for each other, pray for our church, and pray for the Church. Share in each other’s grief and sorrow, as well as joy and triumph. Worship God together. Dig in deeper within this community. Find ways to be with those who are different from you. Seek out ways to serve together. And mostly, remember that all are children of God the Father, all are loved and redeemed through Christ Jesus, and all are sustained by the power of the Holy Spirit. If teenagers can live united with Christ, can't we all? Amen.