20th Sunday after Pentecost

Today we celebrate what several churches, including the Episcopal Church, are calling the Children's Sabbath. It's a day set aside to remember children, and also to remember the importance of childhood.

It is in childhood that we are largely formed. It is in childhood that character takes shape. It makes a difference whether, in childhood, one is nourished with love and affection and wisdom or left to fend for himself estranged from these virtues.

Wise people have always known that. The Church knows that. St. Paul knew it. And that's why St. Paul wrote these words to Timothy: "Remember the truths you have learned. Remember the truths you learned from the Holy Scriptures in early childhood. Remember the truths that have power to make you wise and to lead you to salvation, to life that is abundant."

So on this Children's Sabbath, as we in America continue our walk in the wake of the terrible realities of the past five weeks, I want to remind us of one of the truths we all learned in childhood. And I want to do it by telling one of the stories Jesus told, a story we all know, and by asking the question Jesus asked.

In the Bible, the story begins this way: A man who knew his Bible backwards and forwards asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. And Jesus asked him, "Well, what does it say in the Bible?" And the man said, "It says, 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind. And love your neighbor as yourself.'"

And Jesus said, "You have answered correctly. Do that, and you will live."

But wanting to justify himself, the man said, "Yes, but who is my neighbor?" And that's when Jesus told his story and asked his question.

You'll notice that I'm not going to tell the story exactly the same way Jesus told it, because the story the way Jesus told it happened a long time ago in Judea, but the story the way I'm going to tell it happened only two weeks ago in New York City, on October 7, only three and a half weeks after the terrible events of September 11, only a few days after the airports reopened.

Here's the story: On October 7, there was a young woman from Egypt who was traveling to the United States with her son, who was about 10 or 11 years old. After their long, tiring trip from Cairo, a trip of maybe 10 or 12 hours, they had landed late in the afternoon at Kennedy Airport in New York. But their destination was not New York. Their destination was South Carolina, so they still had a long way to go.

They spoke no English, but somehow they found their way to the shuttle that would take them into the city, where they understood they would find their way to South Carolina.

When the shuttle stopped at Grand Central Station, lots of people got up to get off, so the little Egyptian boy and his mother got up to get off as well. The other people were also tired after their own long trips, and they were ready to get home to dinner and their families, so they didn't pay any attention to the little boy and his mother, who just kept saying over and over again, with a question in her voice, "South Carolina? South Carolina?"

But on the shuttle was a young man named Paul, who had just come home to New York from abroad. He had been in Mexico on business, and he, too, was eager to get home. Paul watched as the mother got off the bus with her luggage and her son, and he heard her asking the same question over and over again -- "South Carolina? South Carolina?" -- as others passed her by, all with their own destinations in mind.

Now Paul knew that almost no buses leave Grand Central Station for anywhere, so he got off and stopped the young woman. Somehow he persuaded her to get back on the shuttle and to go on with him to the next stop, to the Port Authority Bus Station, which was where he was getting off, and from which he was sure they could make a connection to South Carolina.

At the Port Authority Bus Station, Paul helped them buy tickets and find the departure gate, not an easy task for those of us who do speak and read English. At the gate they found that their bus did not leave until 9:15, which meant a three-hour wait in a small area of tile floors and no seats.

Paul was expected at home soon. He and Richard had plans to go to the opera. But Paul called Richard and explained the situation. He said that instead of going to the opera, he wanted to bring his new friends home so they could have something to eat before they continued their long journey.

Richard said that was fine with him, so Paul took mother and son to their home, which was not far from the bus station, where the visitors from Egypt were able to wash and refresh themselves. Then Paul and Richard took them to dinner at a neighborhood Turkish restaurant, where Paul and Richard hoped to find someone who spoke a language their guests understood.

The search for a common language was not successful, so dinner conversation was mostly mime movements and a few English words mother and child did know, such as "South Carolina" and "Coca Cola" and "chicken." But Paul and Richard did manage to figure out that mother's name was Miriam and the child's name was Osama, that they were going to visit a grandfather who has lived in the United States for some time, and that they had a six-month visa.

After dinner Paul and Richard taxied mother and son and their large suitcase back to the Port Authority, where they waited to make sure that they got on the right bus and that the bus driver would help them change to another bus in North Carolina. Richard stripped their suitcase of all the Egyptian Air markings and, in response to a last-minute idea, ran upstairs at the Port Authority to find American flag pins for them to wear.

They pinned the flags on their lapels. It was time to say goodbye. The four of them exchanged kisses on the cheek, while embracing and holding hands, and Miriam and Osama said "thank you" with their eyes. Then the driver said it was time to leave, and the door was closed, and with a wave and a tear they were gone.

Now here's Jesus' question: Who do you think was neighbor to the mother and child who were lost and tired New York City?

["Paul and Richard," answered an 8-year-old sitting in the front pew with today's Children's Chapel class.]

"Go, and do likewise," said Jesus.

Grace is not a five-letter word in the Bible; grace is life lived the way you learned it from the Holy Scriptures when you were a child.

In the Name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.