One Friday after school, before Mark had caught up with his buddies, his friends had devised a plan, a "harmless" plan. One of Mark's friends, a boy named Carl, had an uncle visiting from out of state. This particular uncle and Carl's father usually liked to spend Friday night, and pretty much all Saturday morning until "last call," down at the local watering hole drinking through much of that week's paycheck-essential things like rent and food were regularly paid out of whatever was left over, if anything was left over. So while Carl's Dad and uncle were on their way to getting drunk, and going broke in the process, Mark's best friend, Richie, would theoretically "borrow" the uncle's car, somehow forgetting to actually ask him, so they could take it out for a spin and practice driving. As long as they had the car back by midnight, local curfew time and well before Carl's Dad and uncle returned from their night out, everything would be fine. All this had been decided before Mark arrived.

When Mark finally caught up with his friends, the plans for that Friday night were excitedly revealed. Still sitting on his bike, Mark heard them out. He didn't know what to say. The idea seemed harmless, after all it was a family member's car they were "borrowing." But the idea also didn't seem like a good one, either. None of them were licensed drivers, and in their small town the local police knew that, because the police knew them, knew where they lived and who their parents were. They might get pulled over. What then?

Richie did the talking at this point. He knew how to drive, and would accept full responsibility for anything that might develop, but that wasn't going to be necessary because there wasn't going to BE a problem. "Let's do it," the boys all cheered, and began to ride their bikes toward Carl's house. It was getting dark and soon Carl's Dad would be driving the uncle to the bar in the next town. Mark didn't move. These were his closest neighborhood buddies, friends of his for as long as he could remember, and Richie was his best friend.

Richie didn't have a Dad, nor much of a mother. His Mom was uneducated, and spent most of her time inebriated. So Richie was the man of the house, the youngest (he had an older sister who married at fifteen), the only son, so, basically, he raised himself, and could only depend on himself.

Now Mark knew that Richie walked a thin line between what was right and what was wrong. Richie did whatever he wanted to do, and he rarely let anything stand in his way. Nowadays you might say Richie was "ethically challenged."

Mark countered his best friend with a proposal. "Why don't you forget that idea and come spend the night at my house tonight?"
"What are you, afraid?" Richie replied.
"No, I just think it's a stupid idea," said Mark.
"Fine, then don't come with us.
"Fine, I won't."
"Suit yourself," said Richie as he rode off with the other boys. Mark rode off in the direction of his house, a shower of catcalls and names pouring down on him amidst the laughter and taunting of his friends, names and words that aren't politely repeated from a pulpit.

How many of you can remember a scene like this, or something closely resembling it from your adolescence? How many of you can remember that familiar feeling rise in the pit of your stomach, when you had to choose between your peers and your principles? Between being cool, or being careful? Between being "with it," or being wise? Whether it was last semester or decades ago, it's not hard to remember those emotions, those gut feelings, our view and image of our self then. Few periods of one's life are as fraught with such tension and dilemmas as the teenage years, the years between childhood and adulthood. Our experience of being a teenager is an individual one, and yet shared by others of our own age bracket, peppered with vague memories of world events, and heavily underscored by a popular music soundtrack.

No matter in which era we passed through these years, I find that two things pretty much remain universally true: 1) simultaneously, they were some of the best years and worst years we had growing up, and 2) few of us would want to have to face being a teenager in the generations that have followed our own teenage years.

Adolescence is a time of wanting to become one's own person, and yet still having a measurable dependence on one's parents, usually economic. We want to pull away from our parents, but not completely. Someone once described adolescence as a second childbirth, only this time they are already potty trained and can talk. Boy, can they talk. Or not. Boy, can they look like an adult; but are not. And obtaining the driver's license seems to have become our cultural equivalent of the rite of passage from boyhood or girlhood into manhood or womanhood. It was a license to get away from our parents, but not quite. No longer a child, yet not yet an adult, legally and emotionally. Admittedly, the line between child and adult has grown faint, and gets increasingly blurred by media and advertising images.

Becoming an adult requires learning how to make choices, how to assess situations, and how to think about consequences. It appears that the variety and type of choices, and their possible consequences, have exploded geometrically for today's teenagers compared to when we were adolescents. In some ways that is true. However, the choices present today amount to variations on a theme actually, though the ease with which some of the choices come have increased, and so has the lethality of some of the consequences. The phrase "harassed and helpless, like a sheep without a shepherd" in today's Gospel lesson could aptly describe the teenage experience in this country. And society offers numerous people of questionable or unknown character willing to serve as their shepherd.

At the decisive moment, Mark had a flash of the possible consequences of what his friends had proposed, and all of them looked bad in his mind. They proposed stealing a car and going for a joy ride. None of them were licensed nor experienced drivers. Stealing a car to practice driving seemed like an idea doomed from the start, so Mark chose to leave. On his way home, he stopped by the house of a friend, Larry, an adult volunteer sponsor with the youth group at his church.

Larry was a great guy, married, a couple of young kids. Mark knew he could trust Larry with his thoughts and feelings, he knew Larry would listen to his story without judging, without interrupting. Larry would take the time to listen, and Larry wasn't Mark's mom or dad. It was helpful to have an adult friend, male or female, other than a parent, with whom one could talk. Someone who would really listen, who cared enough to spend some of their time a few Sundays each month to be with other teens in their church. Sitting on the front porch, Mark told Larry the whole story; Larry listened without saying a word. When he finished, they sat in silence for a few minutes, a silence that seemed like an eternity for Mark.

"That must have been hard to leave your friends behind," Larry said. "I can remember times like that, feeling that enormous peer pressure to go along with the crowd, in order to be accepted, to be liked."
"You can?"
"Yes, I can, it wasn't that long ago. And, honestly, I'm not sure I could have been as willing to walk away as you were tonight, Mark. I think I might have gone with those guys. But you didn't. That took tremendous courage."
"Really? I thought it was fear, cause I nearly wet my pants, I was so scared about what those guys wanted to do."
"Well, obviously you didn't," Larry grinned. "I'm proud of you, Mark. I hope you're proud of yourself. I think you did the right thing; I hope you think that, too."
Mark smiled back at Larry, and then said, "You got anything to eat? I'm starving."
"Well, I'll bet we can find something if we look a little bit," Larry said as they both stood up and went inside.

With a little imagination, and a little latitude from the listener, it's possible to see and hear the following in the Gospel for today:

When Jesus saw the crowd of teenagers, he had compassion for them, for they were harassed and helpless, like a sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his followers, "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest… As you go proclaim the good news, 'The kingdom of heaven has come near.' Heal those who feel sick and worthless, raise up those who feel unloved and dead inside, restore to the group those who feel exiled and outcast, resist evil behavior and oppose unjust or evil systems. Remember: Someone willingly helped you through adolescence; be willing to help someone else get through it, as well."

We have our share of Marks, and Carls, and Richies, and Marys and Carols and Rebeccas. Good kids, kids with big hearts and growing minds, who need in their lives a few good people like a Larry, or a Linda, if you will: adult men and women who remember what it was like to be a teenager, and who are willing to listen. Our youth ministry is presently blessed with Furman students Alice Rigdon and Ali Lindsey, one each for Jr. and Sr. EYC, but they cannot possibly do this growing ministry effectively by themselves. They need our help, help from the membership of St. James, and they need it right away. "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest."

This summer, a task force of parents, interested adults, and most importantly, teenagers themselves, is meeting to create a new vision for youth ministry in this place. A vision of youth ministry that will arise from their experiences, their hopes, wishes, and dreams, and that will uphold the overall vision of St. James. Later this fall, we will hear about their vision, and hear of various opportunities so that many of us can get behind it and support it. It is critically important that we do this because, after all, we are talking about the lives and futures of our teenagers. Young people not much different from us when we were their age. Young people who need our time, our attention, and our acceptance. Young people who need a Larry like Mark had, a Larry like you. Our kids need Larrys and Alices and Alis.

The teens of our parish need willing adults who can be present on two or three Sunday afternoons each month during the school year. Adult volunteers to hang out with, to think out loud with, to allow young people to see another example of what it means to be a thinking adult, a thinking Christian, in today's fast-changing world. You don't have to have a degree in adolescent psychology to be effective at this, you don't have to know magic or stand-up comedy to be successful at this, you don't have to have mastered a million and one versions of The Egg-under-the-Armpit Relay to know how to do this. Let me tell you, more of us are qualified to do this work than we think.

In fact, the only true requirement that it takes to be an effective adult youth volunteer is this (and given the culture in which we live, I have to say it this frankly): To be willing to listen to young people, and to be truly interested in them, in a non-exploitative way. That's really all it takes: To be willing to listen to young people, and to be truly interested in them, in a non-exploitative way. Basically, you've got to like teenagers, and be willing to listen.

For you see, it is the relationships that make youth ministry effective. It is the relationships between teens themselves and the relationships with their adult volunteers in church youth group that get remembered years later, not the games, not the food, not the activities per se. But those relationships, those can make all the difference. Over a period of years, a thriving youth ministry can help our young people develop the ability to make the wise choices that we pray they will make when facing difficult or complex situations. Sometimes even a simple decision can have an enormous impact.

That Saturday afternoon, a police car dropped Richie off at Mark's house. Mark had already heard the whole sad story of Richie taking the uncle's car, about the new wrinkle to the plan involving breaking into a beverage warehouse and stealing two cases of beer, then the boys driving the car into a ditch, and hitting a boulder, and fleeing the scene, obviously. As Richie shut the police cruiser door, Mark's older brother walked out of the house. "Hi, Richie; how was the jail food?" he said as he passed by. Mark winced at the look on his best friend's face. After a moment of silence Richie spoke first.

"I guess I should have listened to you last night."
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I suppose. It could have been worse, I guess. It was pretty embarrassing if you want to know the truth."
"At least you didn't get hurt, and Carl's uncle is not going to press charges."
"Yeah, but I'm getting probation for the rest of that stuff."
"Probation is better than being sent to Reform School, isn't it?" Mark replied.
Richie shrugged. "You got anything to eat? Because jail food really isn't that good."
"Come on in; I'm sure we can find something."

When [Jesus] saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest."

The Rev'd Timothy M. Dombek
ST. JAMES EPISCOPAL CHURCH
301 Piney Mountain Road
Greenville, SC 29609-3035
(864) 244-6358
stjamesrector@mindspring.com

Copyright © 2002 Timothy M. Dombek All Rights Reserved.