A Sermon for the Third Sunday of Advent

By: Amelia McDaniel, Director of Children’s Ministries

 

I like to go back and read books again.  Books I have loved.  Sometimes the re-reading is nostalgic.  Sometimes I realize that I no longer identify with the characters the way I once did.  And sometimes I am astonished to find that the rereading reveals a whole new story to me.

I make a habit of rereading To Kill a Mockingbird every few years.  Each time I read it again a new facet of the story comes into view for me.  And I fall in love all over again with it.  I’ve loved Scout as someone who identifies with her, as a big sister to her, as someone who wishes she had a momma to love on her.  I’ve loved Jem through the eyes of a sibling, and through the eyes of a mother to a son.  My last reading of the book had me enthralled with Atticus and how he struggled to care for his children alone and explain a world that in so many ways is inexplicable.

So when I was rereading today’s Gospel, with different eyes from the last time this story came up in our lectionary cycle, I was struck by John’s screaming out at the people around him.  John, who from the very beginning was in on what God was doing with Jesus.  John who leapt in his mother’s womb when she was in the presence of Mary, still carrying Jesus in her own womb.  John whose fire and zeal led him to the to tell people to get ready.  That God was going to do something new.

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A Sermon for Christ the King Sunday

By: Amelia McDaniel, Director of Children’s Ministries

 

I speak to you in the name of the Good Shepherd, the King of Love, whose goodness fails us never.

Today marks the end of our liturgical Church Year.  The last Sunday in the Season after Pentecost. I guess you could call today the church’s New Year’s Eve.

Next Sunday the new church year begins with the first Sunday of Advent, the time of preparing for the birth of Jesus.  And we will begin anew the ancient pattern of days, the circle of the Church Year. Following the way to Bethlehem during Advent.  Celebrating the Birth of the Jesus on Christmas. Remembering the stories of how he grows from a baby into a man throughout the stories of the season of Epiphany.  During Lent we turn again to preparing, but this time not for his birth but for his death. And then thankfully there is Easter to celebrate. And we do that until the day of Pentecost, 50 days after Easter.  The day we remember that Jesus did not leave us here high and dry but sent the Holy Spirit amongst us. And then we hit the LONG season of the Season after Pentecost. It is almost impossibly long.

Pentecost amounts to a whole lot of Sundays.  Like half the calendar year of them. It seems that someone had the wisdom to know that it would take us an incredibly long time to grow into the mysteries of Christmas and Easter.  This Sunday is the 27th Sunday after Pentecost.  For 27 Sundays in a row we have heard stories inviting us to grow into a bigger understanding of the Kingdom of God.

Today on this Church New Year’s Eve, it is not the baby Jesus we are remembering.  Today our readings are full of the story of Christ the King. The psalm portrays a King, a man with splendid apparel, mightier than the biggest breakers of the sea.

The Epistle has Jesus rolling in with the clouds. Our Alpha and Omega who is and was and who is to come.

Strength, power, dominion, glory.  This is the picture of the King these scriptures hold.

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A Sermon for the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost

By: Amelia McDaniel, Director of Children’s Ministries

 

I speak to you this morning in love.  May God take my words and make them a reflection of His love amongst us.

The name Amelia means “zealous or industrious worker”.  Not fair flower, or pretty maiden, or light on the meadow.  Nope.  Hard worker.  It’s a Germanic name that derives from the root amal meaning work. The story goes that it was given to my great grandmother a full year after her birth.  The family had been content calling her Sis until someone had to fill out a birth certificate.  Now the name is mine.

I learned the meaning of my name when my parents were naming my brother and there were baby name books in the house.  It was a huge disappointment.  Not the kind of name an awkward 11 year old girl wanted. Zealous Worker?   But over the years I grew to love my name anyway.

And it fits.  I am a worker.  I love a project, a task, a chore.  Doing is just how I am most comfortable.  I was in college when I visited St. James’s and saw the words from today’s Epistle boldly written in gold letters – Be ye Doers of the Word and Not Hearers Only.  Seemed exactly right to me. Right there in big letters all of the checks on my check list and the gold stars of my childhood charts were given validation.  GOD WANTS US TO BE DOERS.

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A Sermon for the Sixth Sunday in Easter

Children and Youth Sunday

By: Amelia McDaniel, Director of Children’s Ministries


Acts 10:44-48
John 15:9-17

This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.
I speak to you in the name of the Good Shepherd by whom we are known and loved and to whom we belong.

This year is a milestone year for me. I’ve been at professional ministry for exactly one whole half of my life now. 23 years. I giggle when I think of the 23 year old me setting up an office at St. James’s church. I had been hired to do youth ministry and I was enrolled as a student at the now closed Presbyterian School of Christian Education to get my masters in Christian Ed. As part of my studies I was to create my own theory of Christian Education. I’ve searched in vain for this paper over the years. It’s most likely on a floppy disk somewhere in a landfill, which is it’s best location.
I do remember the main concept. Christian education was about making meaning and meaning making. There were thousands of words in the word salad I created to flesh that out. I do still believe some of it today. The idea goes something like this… Children come to us already with an innate relationship with and understanding of God. It’s our job to help them make meaning of what they already feel and know. And then it is our job to provide them with the stories of our faith, relationships and experiences in the life of the church to continue to live into that meaning, to help them make more meaning of their understanding of God. It wasn’t all bad.

As time went on I went into my Martha Stewart phase of Christian Ed. I would speak about stocking our children’s pantries with all these things they needed in life…knowledge of scripture, worship, outreach, community, and just insert some more word salad stuff in there. In my mind you really could just stock this gorgeous looking pantry of life in the church and the outcome would be neat and orderly and wonderful, just as picture perfect as anything Martha could make. This pantry would sustain our children as they grew and they would be able to reach in there and pull out what they needed to address whatever life challenge they were facing.

Then I had my own children. And basically they set to fire bombing that stupid pantry from the moment of their births. It’s laughable and probably predictable that I had gotten so much wrong no matter how well intentioned I was.

But, until I had to sit through a service with my own children misbehaving I had not really understood the profound spiritual agony and discipline of not completely loosing it in church with your own children. I remember thinking that NO ONE’s children EVER behaved as badly as mine did. My children will readily tell you that some of the worst “talking to’s”, ok “yelling ats”, that they have ever experienced with me were on car rides home from church some Sundays when they were younger. Ok maybe last week too.

I’m a bit older now and wear some different perspectacles. Now I want to just pat the shoulder of the momma who is trying to get her little one to be still and talking without unclenching her teeth. And bless the daddies who I find outside whose little ones have just fallen out on the bricks into a tantrum. They look so shell shocked and worried.

Now my model of Christian Education is stated in just three words. Known. Loved. Belong. That’s it. We are known by God, loved by God and belong to God. My hope is that our children feel known to us in this community, loved by this community and that they belong to this community. It’s pretty simple. All the wonderful things I had envisioned in my Martha Stewart pantry are good ways of helping our children understand these truths. Learning the stories of our faith in scripture, understanding our worship practices, serving others in need. There are many ways we offer them a taste of life being known and loved and counted as a child of God. But to try to impose a rigid order or structure on these wonderfully mysterious expressions of love is wasted energy.

My mother loves to tell this story about me as a little one in church. I must have been around 2 when this story happened. We worshipped in the summers at St. Peter’s in Gilbertsville, KY by Kentucky Lake where my grandmother had a home. It was a tiny mission church. And the chairs were those old fold up chairs that also had kneelers attached. Somehow, I managed to get my little body stuck, my little gangly legs and arms wrapped around and kneeler and the bottom legs of the chair. Mother says it took forever to extract me and I am sure she was undone. She scooped me up once I was freed and headed out of the little sanctuary to check me out and also I am sure regain her composure. The priest was in the middle of the consecrating the Eucharist so it was silent in the church. Just as she got to the door she says that I loudly announced, “I’s OK. I’s be right back” and waved to the little congregation.

If I could I would hug every single member of that tiny congregation present that day around the neck. Whatever they had done. Whatever spirit they had imparted to my little two year old self, I was clearly certain I belonged there. And that feeling has stuck with me throughout my whole life.

In today’s reading from Acts, Peter is astonished by the fact that EVEN the Gentiles seemed to get this thing about Jesus. He asks “Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?” I wonder where Peter’s feelings about children and youth fell. Some may argue that they are too little, too young to understand God or they do not have enough knowledge or experience of this world to truly get it. But how and why would we ever hold anything back from our children? Why would we ever try to diminish their belovedness in the Kingdom of God? How could our eyes be so blind as not to recognize the work that God is already doing in them and through them?

We promise at the baptism of each and every child that we will support them in their life in Christ. We welcome them into our fold by saying “We receive you into the household of God. Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection and share with us in his eternal priesthood.” That’s no small promise.

A life lived in a community where children are lifted up and valued for what they bring to the whole is so much richer and full. I promise you that my faith has been deepened by the questions and insights and experiences I have had with my children and the children and youth I have had the privilege to learn alongside. I am sure that our Sunday School teachers and youth leaders would say the same. I cannot imagine a church without them and certainly no Kingdom of God without them. And if we fail to live into our baptismal vows, if we “hold back” we risk missing the opportunity we have been given to carry on the story and the way of life that generations before us have handed down since the time of Peter.

As a mother, I live most days in some sort of a panic. It could be worry over my children’s school work or friendships. I worry about college and what comes next for them. But these are things that I have some influence over, however small that influence may be. What I worry more about are the hidden dangers. The surprises. The unforeseen circumstances that could rock their world. Shake them to their core. I’ve lived long enough to watch these earthshattering events play out in real time in my life and the lives of those I know and love.

Kate Braestrup, a Unitarian pastor and Chaplain to the Maine Warden service has said…the question isn’t whether we’re going to have to do hard, awful things, because we are. We all are. The question is whether we have to do them alone.

We receive you into the household of God. Share it with us. We promise these children that no matter what they belong. There is nothing, nothing in this life that they will have to do alone. They belong with us.

I bring my children here because I want them to know that whatever comes at them they are known and loved and belong in this household of God. I know that my love is not enough to sustain them in this life, as painful as that truth is. But here, here they have the chance to know and grow into a love which is inexplicable, beyond measure. You bear that witness to them. You show them the Kingdom. You love them as you are loved as called to in today’s Gospel. You do this in small and large ways. Andrew and Bob, Matt, their Sunday School teachers and youth group leaders are often at the front of the charge. But the gentle hands who button the back of a dress in the middle of a service. The one who takes notice of an interest in hunting and stops to talk. The one who stops to share a happy experience with one of my babies. This is it. This is the promise being lived out in our very midst. Nothing is held back.

And I watch it play out over and over again. The exchanges between adults and youth and children. Adult volunteers connect to children and youth each Sunday here. Children smile and share stories and laughter and their own brand of wisdom with one another and the grown ups around them. This place is a buzz with Jesus’ commandment to love one another. It is an extraordinary and humbling thing to witness.

So today we celebrate the children and youth of St. Mary’s. They are already a part of the foundations of this place. We claim them as fully incorporate members of this sacred community we are all blessed to live in. Someday all too soon the children and youth in our midst today will be grown and heading out on their own. Some we may see at holidays while they are home from school. Some may return to us in their 20’s ready to serve and participate. Others will find their way here for weddings and baptisms and find their spots as Sunday School teachers, leaders, vestry members. Some of our kids will choose different faith paths to follow, other ways of expressing love for the divine. Some may return when the bottom has dropped out and they thankfully remembered our promise that they were never alone. No matter what path our children take, my prayer for them is that they walk out our doors with a deep sense of being known and loved here. That they belong here. And maybe too they will say as they head out that door…I’m ok. I’ll be right back. May it be so.

I speak to you in the name of the Good Shepherd by whom we are known and loved and to whom we belong.