Don't leave Eutychus on the windowsill!

We hear a lot these days about young people, their future, their successful or not-so-successful—yet so necessary—integration into society. The school system, and even the way society views its youth, are being challenged and various solutions considered. ...

The same situation can be found in churches. A lack of young people, a lack of renewal, is sometimes evident. It would almost seem as though a link were missing between the end of Sunday School and the participation of young people in church activities.

As I was praying about this recently, I found a story from the Bible very helpful. We find it in Acts, which depicts the beginnings of the Christian Church. The scene takes place in Troas, where the Apostle Paul has just spent a week preaching the gospel of Christ Jesus. Many were gathered in an upper chamber. We read, "And there sat in a window a certain young man named Eutychus, being fallen into a deep sleep: and as Paul was long preaching, he sunk down with sleep, and fell down from the third loft, and was taken up dead."

I had read the story many times, but on this particular day, I noticed that it was about a young man. I thought of the widely held view that young people have an unstable position in church or in society; according to this view, young people do not feel completely "inside" a church family or social organization, either because they do not feel sufficiently accepted or listened to as full members, or because they do not feel particularly interested.

That a young man like Eutychus had come to listen to Paul, having perhaps sacrificed other activities on that night, was very encouraging to me. His presence pointed to the fact that spiritual hunger and receptivity are not restricted to people of more mature years. I knew that church has much to give to young people and likewise that young people have much to give to church. So, when I realized that Eutychus's fatal fall seemed to expel him from the church community, I was grateful that Paul had an immediate, loving response.

We read, "And Paul went down, and fell on him, and embracing him said, Trouble not yourselves; for his life is in him." Eutychus couldn't be separated from God, Life and Love. We learn then that "they brought the young man alive, and were not a little comforted."

Paul may have seen this event as yet another of evil's attempts to attack a dynamic element of church—the participation of young people. It seems this error is still rampant today. It seeks to prevent the church from fulfilling its essential purpose in the world, claiming that some don't have their place there because they are too young, too old, too busy, and so on.

What are the qualities that this resistance to truth seeks to exclude from the church? They might include openness of mind, spontaneity, vitality, even—why not?—boldness. Shall we find them only in one category of individuals who are completing their human growth? Of course not. Every useful and good characteristic comes from God, the source of all right ideas, and is manifested in all His children. The real being of each one of us includes the positive characteristics often linked to maturity: wisdom, responsibility, persistence, patience, as well as those traditionally represented by youth: liveliness, gaiety, enthusiasm, receptivity.

Mrs. Eddy writes in The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany, "A heart touched and hallowed by one chord of Christian Science, can accomplish the full scale; but this heart must be honest and in earnest and never weary of struggling to be perfect—to reflect the divine Life, Truth, and Love." All the tones that we reflect as children of God have their place in the church. And if we are increasingly aware of this complete scale of qualities in ourselves, barriers will fall one after the other. We will then perceive that no child of God—and this is who we all really are—can be "on the windowsill," that is, half in and half out of Truth, since divine Truth and Love fill all space.

This came to me clearly once as I was walking home. I had just come out of the train station, when I saw a group of about fifteen young people coming toward me. Their hairstyles and clothing were typical of a trend sometimes associated with intimidation and violence. Some were carrying beer cans and had, it seemed to me, a provocative or aggressive attitude. One of them asked me rather rudely if I lived in a certain town. (It was not my town, but a neighboring one.) I was not fearful, but I did feel a certain antipathy for them. I answered "no," and continued on my way. By now, they were walking in the same direction as I was, still apparently looking for their way, and we were on a very narrow sidewalk; I found myself in the middle of the group.

All of a sudden, I recalled a youth meeting for young people interested in Christian Science that was held in Hamburg, Germany, some time before, when hundreds of young Christian Scientists and other young people of various faiths had come from all corners of Europe and even farther. I remembered the spirit of happy fellowship that had prevailed among all of us, the "young" and the "not so young" who had come to help. We had stated then, and felt, that we were all citizens of the world and had one Father.

The street was dark, nearly empty. Passersby would walk hastily away from the group, which by now included me. Right then, I suddenly felt a wave of love for these boys and girls who surrounded me. I knew that in their true being they were—as I was—the loved children of God. Therefore I was not simply in a strange and potentially hostile environment but right in the midst of my own brothers and sisters. I could in no way reject them; on the contrary, I could only wish to help them.

So I approached the young man who had first talked to me and asked him what they were looking for. It was a concert hall. I was able to tell them how to get there, and the young man thanked me, which was a radical change from his previous offhand attitude.

As the group started in the right direction and I went my own way, I was grateful not only for having felt no fear but most of all for having glimpsed the fact that we were, in a deeper, spiritual sense, really members of the same family, which is not divided into age-groups, but where each reflects and appreciates divine qualities in every other. It was a glimpse of the reality Mrs. Eddy describes in Science and Health when she writes, "Man and woman as coexistent and eternal with God forever reflect, in glorified quality, the infinite Father-Mother God."

What a joy it is to perceive the complete scale of good qualities God gives us! Who would want to leave any of these on the windowsill? By nourishing individually all these qualities, we will contribute to the renewal of our churches.