Talkin’ ’bout my generation
Preacher: Revd Dr Donald MacEwan, University Chaplain
Readings: Isaiah 35:3-7, 10; James 2:1-10, 14-17
There is a palpable sense today of different generations. A new generation of students has arrived in St Andrews, and moved into halls. This first year will bring a unique life to this place, clothes from Depop, books from Oxfam, memories of a youth defined one way or another by Taylor Swift, Donald Trump and twitterstorms. There’s never been a generation like this one, and nothing in the future will be quite the same again.
But freshers – or students generally – are not the only generation in town this weekend. Look around. There are quite a few here who, let’s be charitable, are slightly more battered round the edges, whose memories stretch back into another century, or millennium indeed, who are all too aware of the turning of the generations. I’m talking of course of parents here, and some others who are accompanying students for a day or two at the beginning of the academic year.
Many of these parents are, of course, graduates themselves, and maybe cannot help but recall their own move-in days back in the 20th Century. Who knows, they may even have shared some of this ancient history with the students they’ve dropped off – of a time before mobiles when they had to queue for the couple of call-boxes in their hall of residence, clutching a pile of coins or a phonecard with 60p left on it. A weekly call home, at most, with fellow-students catching your end of the conversation. A time before laptops, when you could type up your essay in Word Perfect in the computer lab if you wanted, but much more likely, hand-write in your best hand-writing a fair copy to pop into your lecturer’s pigeon-hole. A time before the internet, when you didn’t want to be too far from the Reference section in the Library. A time when you’d communicate with friends in halls by writing a note and blu-tacking it to their door – Want to go to dinner together? Pick me up at 6? A time, perhaps, of slightly more direct feedback on your work, literally on your work, a line or two handwritten at the bottom – I think you’ve seriously misunderstood the question. Disappointing. B–. A time when, if you had a problem, you asked around your friends in the pub in the absence of anything looking remotely like Student Services. A time when your vacation was spent backpacking, saving money by catching overnight trains, or walking up to the cheapest fleapit in Bangkok, nothing booked, and nothing in your rucksack particularly clean.
These same parents can be perplexed by what younger people, students today, take for granted. Life online. Privacy settings. Leaving things flexible. Neurodiversity. Mental health issues coming as standard – or so it seems. Depression, anxiety. When their offspring say they need to focus on self-care, on looking after their wellbeing, by spending time on themselves, on eating their own food, on getting up when they feel ready, on scrolling, always scrolling – parents wonder aloud what would have happened if they’d tried that. As well as me, you had to think about the we. Some oldsters might think the we generation has been replaced by the me generation.
Listening to this, students may have a song going round their head, perhaps the finest moment by The Who from 1965:
People try to put us down (talkin’ ’bout my generation…)
The funny thing is – if we go to scripture expecting it to back the parents up, we find in many ways the other side. The Bible gets it, it gets what the current generation gets. Take today’s passage from Isaiah for example. It’s all about me – by which I mean it’s all about who we are, the problems we face, the needs we have, the sense we have of ourselves.
For one thing, it understands that we can be fearful.
Strengthen the weak hands
and make firm the feeble knees.
Say to those who are of a fearful heart,
‘Be strong, do not fear!’
If ever there can be a fearful time, starting University can be it. Or starting anything new – a new year, new flat, new flatmates, new job, new relationship, new anything. And there may be particular things that people in chapel today are scared of – not making friends; fear of not fitting in – wrong accent, wrong colour, wrong sexuality, wrong school, wrong body size, wrong interests, wrong outfit sourced on Depop. Fear that this year’s subjects will be really hard and you’re not bright enough to succeed. Fear that fundamentally you shouldn’t be here, that you’re an imposter in a world where everyone else deserves their place.
If your heart is fearful right now, then these words from the Bible are for you. God understands your fears. And he will come and save you.
What does this saving look like? For Isaiah, it was a transformation for those hampered by a problem with their body.
Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
then the lame shall leap like a deer,
and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.
(vv. 5-6a)
For students today, perhaps this promise might be found in other ways. God’s saving presence with us might help us find friends who like us, who don’t mind when we are less than brilliant, who will come round at 6 pm and pick us up for dinner. Or his loving strength might help us accept the person we are, with our particular penchant for 80s clothes on Vinted, our love for archery or Icelandic death metal, our distinctive accent, family heritage, body size , place on the extraversion-introversion spectrum. Or his grace-filled comfort might help us recognise that the person we’re becoming belongs in St Andrews, belongs in this University, belongs in this skin, belongs in a world where everyone belongs and where no-one is as perfect as their public self.
And if we can accept this promise in the prophet Isaiah, maybe sorrow and sighing will flee away and we can feel the joy which is bubbling up throughout this passage. Indeed, he draws on a beautiful image of water in a dry land, bringing life, colour, vibrancy and profusion. God believes in me and me and me and me – in every me here. And promises everlasting joy and gladness to all those me’s.
But what about the we? Does the Bible not care about community? Is the Christian faith only about self-development and not the shape of society? Here’s where our second reading today, from the New Testament, offers a different perspective. It’s from a letter by James. What he cares about deeply is how we treat each other. And how our actions stack up against the things we say we believe. Written 2000 years ago, it is about as modern an ethic as you can imagine, all about authenticity and calling out its opposite – hypocrisy.
James knows how easy it is to say all the right things, to say we have faith, we live for God, we put Christ first in our life. It’s just words after all. And he thinks it is just words unless it’s also found in how we live. If he was from 20th century England rather than 1st Century Near East, he’d probably say, Fine words butter no parsnips. If we prefer some people in the community over others, if – and his example is no accident – if we prefer the wealthy to the poor, the well-dressed to the shabby, the fashionable to the uncool, the popular to the unpopular, if we treat people badly because we don’t think they belong – we’re undermining the faith we say we have.
James quotes Jesus – You shall love your neighbour as yourself. Loving me implies loving you, loving we. For if God loves all the me’s, they’re all worth loving by all the me’s. There are no imposters in God’s world: we all deserve our space, and we all deserve each other’s love. The oldsters in the chapel may have a point in calling the attention of the young to care for others. If only many of the younger generation didn’t have to teach some of their elders quite a bit about that caring for others. See Climate Change. See diversity.
Now, just before I draw this to a close, you may be thinking, we know which generation this preacher belongs to. There may not be any grey hair but it’s a long time since he left his teenage years behind. He probably listens to 80s indie on CD. He may think Friends Reunited is still a pretty neat idea. Surely he coped as a student without much support, any extensions or making clear his need for self-care. And I suppose that does just about capture me. However, this Freshers Week is also my Freshers Week. Your matriculation is my matriculation. Your student discounts are mine. I begin this month in St Andrews a Masters in Creative Writing, which I’ll do alongside my role as Chaplain. Students, your generation is my generation. When people try to put us down, they’re talking bout my generation. And I’m not only sympathising with you over deadlines, grades and lecturers’ opinions, I’m agonising over them – for myself. But just before you panic – your academic family is not mine; and the shapes you throw at 601 are definitely not mine either.
So me does mean we, this Freshers Week. In a single middle-aged Scottish body, the palpable difference between the generations melts away. We all feel fear. Life is full of struggles for us all. But God strengthens the weak knees of us all, and saves us from the peculiar way we think we don’t belong, until joy and gladness seep into us like a spring in the desert. And when it does, we see this world, its people and all its creatures through God’s eyes – beloved, belonging, better for our love.
Let’s all have a wonderful time this year, whatever generation we belong to.
END