Coming of Age

Rev. Paul Beckel

First Universalist Unitarian Church ~ www.uuwausau.org

February 26, 2006

 

 

The youth of today can see things, hear things, do things that never before were in the range of either old or young. He can make and break contact with others over an unprecedented area and with hitherto undreamed speed. And so as never before in history, he is stimulated to get new experiences and to do many new things. He is constantly subjected to the stimulus of change, variety, the not-yet-experienced....

John Dietrich, 1927

 

All around the world youth is stirring. Often that stirring is the blind movement of disorganized mobs. There is a restlessness that is widely expressed in demands for privilege, for power, for change.... That blind movement and those demands express the deep contradictions characteristic of our time – a time of transition.

Margaret Mead, 1965

 

 

We were sitting around the campfire on a chilly evening – Minnesota in late May. It was my third Memorial Day camping trip with the young adult group. Jane and I, who first met in this group, and whose relationship had blossomed with these people as our primary support network, were to be married in two weeks. It was dark. People came and went from the circle; I wasn’t keeping track of who was where.

 

When a howl erupted from the woods I had a split second to look up from the flames... to realize that I was sitting with several women, and no other men. Suddenly, from the woods all around, men without shirts, their chests and faces painted garishly, sprinted toward us. Without thinking, I somehow knew that they were coming for me. And I somehow knew that my role was to flee. So I fled.

 

It was dark, and hilly, so the chase through the woods went on for quite a while. They eventually caught me, pinned me to the ground, took off my shirt and – using paint sticks – painted my chest and face. Someone lit a bundle of dried sage and waved it around while each man, standing over me, gave his blessing upon my marriage. Finally, they presented me with this Swiss Army Knife. Then they hoisted me onto their shoulders, and cheering, carried me back to the campfire.

 

It was a rather strange experience. On the one hand it was a charade, a bit of a mockery of the stereotypical male bonding rites of the early 1990s. On the other hand, regardless of how tongue-in-cheek it may have been intended, it was a moving experience – a moment made intense by my friends’ combined seriousness and folly…by their simultaneous sense that this was an important thing to do, and that they had no idea how to do it. A moment, obviously, that I vividly remember.

 

I remember my sense of panic. Even though these were people I trusted and loved. I had no idea what was going on, and yet I somehow knew clearly that my part was to run away with all of my might, and then, when I was caught – though I made a couple of attempts to pull away during the painting, they continued to hold me firmly and gently and I understood that I should submit, and receive their blessing.

 

I had met these people for the first time in the Dietrich Room of the First Unitarian Society of Minneapolis. The Dietrich Room was named for John Dietrich, who was minister there in the 1920s and 1930s. He’s considered a founder of religious humanism.

 

In 1927 Dietrich wrote the sermon from which our meditation this morning was taken. It was called, “What’s Wrong with the Younger Generation?” In this sermon Dietrich laments the tradition of every older generation hazing the younger generation. And the young people in 1927, he felt, were getting more than their share of criticism for their misbehavior, saying: “Each older generation [is] shocked by the dress, the manners, the disrespect and the degeneracy of the youth of that day.”

 

When Dietrich himself was younger, he said, (he was born in 1878) his generation was largely ignored. They weren’t heavily criticized as a group, but then neither did they get any attention or have any freedom. So they did the same things being done by the youth who would become the WWII generation. But they did these things in secret.  Not like the kids in 1927 who had petting parties out in the open and whose “frankness… in the discussion of sex matters …is somewhat disconcerting to many older folks.”

 

So in that sermon Dietrich asked his congregation to be understanding toward inexperienced people like [who’s out there today? everyone is probably too young!] He asked that his congregation recognize how unsettling it must be for youth given the radical changes taking place in society and technology and values.

 

I’m not going to be so kind to the youth of 2006. Those slackers – they aren’t even here today! Sorry – it was quite an oversight on my part to decide to speak about coming-of-age, without even thinking about asking for the participation of our teenagers. Can’t you just see them rolling their eyes? And I deserve it. Still, I’m happy to report that they are embroiled instead at this moment in frank discussions about sexuality and relationships (something Dietrich hoped would come to be) in both their Jr. High and Sr. High classes.

 

But maybe it’s ok that they are not here in the sanctuary today. Maybe it would be best to begin our conversation about coming-of-age by considering what sort of experience, what sort of atmosphere, what sort of church community we as adults want to provide for our youth. Perhaps it’s a bit like our conversations leading up to our decision to become “a teaching congregation” for a ministerial intern. We weren’t just setting up a single relationship between an intern and a mentor. We weren’t just finding a committee to evaluate her progress. Our success as a teaching congregation came from a collective sense of purpose, and a collective sense that we have something to offer, as a community, to someone on a path of learning… a path of personal and spiritual growth.

 

Our youth, clearly, are on that path. Some, willingly and enthusiastically. Some less consciously. Some kicking and screaming. What sort of environment can we as a congregation provide to increase the likelihood of their success?

 

A group of us are developing a coming-of-age program which we hope to offer to our teens this fall. For such a program to succeed, we will need to have ongoing congregational conversations about what it means to grow up, to mature, to experience the freedom and the responsibility of adulthood.

 

We all have to be involved because these kids are smart. They won’t believe what we say as much as they will watch what we do. They’re moving out of that stage when they loyally parrot the principles. They’re moving onto a stage of critical evaluation of everything. And our principles, repeated for the umpteenth time, will sound to them as empty platitudes – unless they are accompanied by meaningful choice and direct personal experience.

 

So, how do we create opportunities for our youth to reach and sometimes overreach, and to learn by going away from here… and yet somehow help them to stay connected? We will need adult mentors who will have ongoing direct contact with them. But for a genuinely successful program we will need more than individual mentors. We will need a broad consensus that Unitarian Universalism can be relevant to the already full and complex lives of teenagers. We will need a consensus that as a congregation we want to discover and share this relevance… and that together we’re willing to put ourselves on the line – emotionally, financially, and with the time and attention appropriate to the task.

 

Our notes on the development of the program so far are available on the chancel table, or I can email them to you. And our group invites your feedback and participation at any stage in this process.

 

In brief, our goal is to provide our youth with an opportunity to demonstrate and generate maturity, and responsibility in preparation for adulthood. We’ll be charging them to discover our UU principles not in a classroom setting, but from self-initiated projects. We’ll ask them to go out to experience each principle in some depth, and then, owning it, bring it back to share with the younger kids, with their peers, and with the adults as well.

 

This will be a completely voluntary, independent program, not something to show up for on Sunday mornings. Maybe none of the kids will want to do it. Maybe such a program would be better for our adults. We’ll see.

 

==

Maybe they’ll just say “Whatever.”

 

But that word has at least three different meanings. The stereotype is that “whatever” indicates apathy and indifference, bitterness and a sense of disenfranchisement. I’ve said it that way, at times.

 

But there’s a second meaning to “whatever.” I remember a time when I found myself saying, “I don’t care” an awful lot. I said it so often that I started wondering if people misunderstood me. Because I wasn’t apathetic. I wasn’t depressed. I wasn’t anti-social. On the contrary, at the time I was feeling pretty cooperative and enthusiastic, and whatever people suggested, I was ready to go along with. If given a choice I’d say “I don’t care” – not because I was uninterested but because I was happy and willing to do whatever.

 

A third definition of whatever: instead of apathetic, and instead of enthusiastic, there’s “whatever” as surrender – a letting go. But this is mature acceptance, not sad resignation. A prayer, really, of humble gratitude: “whatever.”

 

I’m not saying that we can ignore the persistent “whatevers” that convey fatigue, apathy, or depression, but it’s worth noting that when it comes to whatevers, 2 out of 3 ain’t bad.

==

 

As an adolescent I studied Latin. And I learned that in ancient Rome, “adolescens” could be used to mean someone immature or unmarried, but basically was used for anyone from puberty to about age 30. Literally, adolescens meant, in Latin, “to grow, mature, increase.” It also meant, “to flame” or, “to burn.”

 

Margaret Mead noted that adolescence – in societies around the world – is difficult for both parents and children. They so badly want to step out, and don’t want to step out. We so badly want them to step out, and don’t want them to step out. No wonder both parents and kids feel confused, edgy, and powerless.

 

John Dietrich talked about 4 broad classifications of youth. First, the largest group of youth are those who are generally indifferent, oblivious to the world around them. Second, the smallest group -- the ones who get all the press – are the self-centered hedonists.

 

But rather than bemoaning the character of these two groups, undoubtedly present in any era, Dietrich focused instead on two other sets who he says he’s most likely to encounter in his congregation: group #3, the Enthusiastic Idealists, and group #4: the Skeptical Realists.

 

Both of these groups have character traits which are essential to maturity and responsibility. The Enthusiastic Idealists, of course, being lively and affirming, forward-looking and unstoppable. The Skeptical Realists being good critical thinkers who won’t tolerate evasion of the truth – a group especially important in assessing the world of 1927 with “our present disintegrating institutions.”

 

Samantha is always saying that our kids here at church are exceptional. And even though this makes me nervous because it sounds conceited, I have to agree with Dietrich who commented that these are the kind he found in his congregation – groups 3 and 4. And he recognized that within these groups were the leaders of the next generation.

 

But the Enthusiastic Idealists and the Skeptical Realists each lack something important. The idealists who talk and dream about world peace – but lack grounding in the facts of history and human dynamics – will not bring the world to peace. Instead, he insisted, they must study the causes of war, and dig beyond their superficial notions about human behavior. If Enthusiastic Idealists of today want to make changes in health care policy and the ethical uses of technology, they’ll need a comprehensive understanding of science and economics. All the zeal in the world won’t help without a grasp of the facts.

 

Likewise the youth who are Skeptical Realists are missing something. They lack spirit. They lack vision. They too will be unable to help the world unless the fuel of their knowledge is kindled with the fire of commitment.

 

So enthusiasm and knowledge need to be reconciled. And both groups need 2 more things: practice, and courage. Even for those who have both ideals and facts, it’s not easy to step out and make a difference in the world. As a congregation we can provide opportunities for them to act, to put the principles into practice, allow them to learn from experience and mistakes, and get into the habit of principled action. And mentors can help our youth find courage by listening and debriefing with them after their mistakes and victories, and by modeling principled action in the face of the mentors’ own fears.

 

==

Margaret Mead notes that enormous progress has been made in human history as the period of adolescence has continually lengthened – when children have not been forced into parenthood or careers for subsistence living before they had the opportunity to grasp the complexities of the world or envision their own place within it.

 

She wrote: “When childhood stretched only a few years ahead, early man was set free to learn a little; when adolescence was prolonged, [those] of earlier civilizations were able to leap ahead. In the future we may hope to meet the magnificent responsibilities of our knowledge through the visions of boys and girls who will remain all their lives, not only as adolescents but as adults, open to the widest prospects, ‘moving about in worlds not realized.’”

 

==

Ancient tribal rituals of coming-of-age involved fasting, sleepless vigils, and physical pain. These experiences helped the initiate to recognize the depth of his resources, and proved to the community that this one could make sacrifices in personal comfort for the sake of the group. Spiritually these were ordeals of crisis and destruction involving a symbolic death of the childhood which made it possible for the adult to appear. These rituals were usually accompanied by visible signs which set the adult off from the children: cut hair, tattoo, circumcision, paint or body ornament.

 

Today most parents are skittish about tattoos and body ornaments. And we’re not inclined to symbolically kill our children to move them on to adulthood. Perhaps we recognize how valuable it can be in our culture to hold on to some of the openness and hopefulness of childhood.

 

So, barring the intentional infliction of pain upon our youth, what can we do?

 

o                   We can recognize that coming-of-age is something that happens again and again in all of our lives as we strive toward maturity and responsibility.

o                   We can serve as models of dealing with change, and growing through loss and regeneration.

o                   We can support this and other institutions that support the maturing of the next generation.

o                   We can strike up intergenerational relationships, and continue to get to know one another as families, perhaps to become a mentor to a child in a family with whom we’ve developed a deep trusting bond.

 

==

Margaret Mead wrote: “Little children must be ceaselessly guarded and cared for, but adolescents, who are still in need of protection, are creatures whom it is almost impossible to protect. Their safety now depends on their earlier learning in childhood and on the way the other adolescents around them are growing toward adulthood.”

 

The conclusions of adolescence are both predictable and unpredictable. It’s not surprising then: the almost unbearable tension experienced by both the child and any adult who dares to walk alongside them.

 

My kids are going to go their own way, and that worries me. They will develop their own taste in literature and music, their own lifestyle and  values, their own religious and political commitments.

 

Inevitably they will have learned something from me along the way – maybe about what to do and be, maybe about what not to do and be. And I will also have learned something from them. Hopefully I will have learned to say “whatever” like a kid. And to say it with an tenor of gratitude and acceptance, like an adult.