Adopted

Galatians 3:23-4:7

Pentecost 16 (B) – September 24, 2006

Introduction

Most of the time, I find a sermon and I look for a story to enhance or to illustrate the point of the sermon. But this week, as I prepared for what to say in response to God’s word about a special event like the one today, I realized that HERE was a story with a sermon in it. So I want to tell you the story today, and see where you find yourselves in it.

Their Story

Once upon a time, two children were born in a far-away country. Their mothers and fathers were not too far apart, but they were inseparably linked by the one factor that links so many people in our world – poverty. The people in that place lived in utter poverty, and there was no guarantee that these children would have anything to eat.

The poverty-stricken place they came to was a dangerous place for babies to live – the infant mortality rate was much higher than here. There was no guarantee that these children would see their first birthdays. And yet they were born here anyway.

These children were born into a place and time that was likely to stay as poor as it had begun. There were very few chances for improvement. Education was hard to come by. In all likelihood, these children would grow up to work the same difficult jobs that their parents had, and if they survived to adulthood would probably die prematurely because the living conditions were so poor.

And yet they were born. And their parents, realizing they had too many mouths to feed, took their children to places where they hoped they would be cared for – one a little boy, the other a little girl. And even though their chances had been slim before, suddenly their chance of getting an education or a home dropped even lower.

Until one day, when all this changed. A couple comes from another country. They cannot have children of their own, and are hoping to give someone a home. They come to a place where they do not speak the language, and they know the conditions are poor. And they bring these children to their own home.

These children, who once could have no guarantee of food, suddenly find that they have all the food they need. Where before they would know only hunger, now they may never know a time when they were hungry.

These children, who once had no guarantee of life, suddenly find that they have medical care and the things they need to survive. Where they may have only known temporary shelter from rain and cold before, now they will know clean, warm and dry homes. They will likely live to the ages any of us may expect.

But more importantly than any of these things – more than the food, more than the shelter, more than the medical care, more than the toys and the many things they enjoy – these children have hope at last. Where before, they might have had access to school but could not go because they could not have afforded clothes and supplies, now they can go to school and learn and grow and improve themselves. Where before they might have had limited opportunities for jobs, now there are no limits – they can be doctors, teachers, lawyers, scientists, farmers… whatever they want. They will likely go father in life than their fathers, mothers or siblings could ever have hoped.

And finally, they have a home and a family. Where before they had a makeshift family of nurses and caretakers in an orphanage, now they have a mother, a father, grandparents, aunts and uncles. Where before they had a place they could go because someone was required to care for them, now they have a place they can go where they are loved and welcomed because of who they are.

And they are no longer outcasts. They aren’t simply brought along for a few years and then abandoned again. They aren’t here just for a few years until the government moves them somewhere else. They are children with parents – children with an inheritance, a family and a home. Children whose parents are theirs in every way except for blood. And they will know the love of real parents as long as they are alive.

It’s a beautiful story. And it’s a story that goes on, for these parents have so much love to share that now they’ve brought another home – another child who had a poor chance at a home, a poor chance at food, a poor chance at survival, a poor chance at education, a poor chance at life. And to this beautiful little girl, they have given life – a home, food, clothing. And even more – love, a family, a place to belong.

Our Story

Once upon a time, a two children were born. They may have been separated by space – one was born in Virginia, and another in Alabama. They may have been separated by time – one born in the 1940’s, another in the 1970’s. They may have had different families – one from a loving home with two parents and several siblings, the other with a broken home and no siblings.

And yet, far apart as they were, they shared a common link that is shared by every human being born. We may have lots of food, clothing, shelter and stuff, but we live in spiritual poverty, desperately needing a place to call home. We are completely sinful and helpless to do anything about it. There’s no guarantee that we’ll ever be able to make it out of the sinful cycle of death and destruction that is bound to this place called earth.

These two children had no hope of improving themselves. Even though they may have had families, food, clothing and education, still they were missing something. They may have had the things that they needed here, but they still needed something they could not get on their own – grace when they made mistakes. Mercy when they had asked for the wrong things so many times. Purpose, when they thought their lives were only about making money and having stuff. Strength when they faced situations that were too difficult to bear.

And most of all, they needed a home that would outlast all the earthly homes they could find here. They needed love that was bigger than they could find in an earthly family. They needed a love that would outlast all the loves that sometimes fail us here. They needed life that would take them beyond the existence we see here sometimes.

They needed love.

And then someone came. He came from a distant country, and told us of a place more beautiful than anything we’d seen. He came and lived a life – and died a death – that made it possible for us to see that new life.

Where before, we had only known a harsh and unforgiving world, suddenly we found forgiveness so free and full that it seems too good to be true.

Where before we had only known a world that was “every man for himself,” suddenly we found a place where grace brought us together with the strength of a family.

Where before we had only been poor and miserable – no matter how much money we may have had – suddenly we found a place where mercy was given to us, and we were completely loved for who we are.

Where before, the only purpose and meaning in life we had known was to look out for ourselves and gain all the things for ourselves that we could, suddenly we found a place where we could see meaning from an eternal perspective – where giving is greater than receiving, where forgiving is better than holding a grudge, where loving each other really makes a difference.

Where before, the things we have would only last us as long as we’re alive, suddenly we find an inheritance that outlasts this life – a treasure of love and acceptance that will last to eternity.

We have found a home. And it’s not just a temporary home. We haven’t been taken into this home for just a little while, later to be let go. No, we have a REAL Father, who has adopted us and made us his own sons and daughters. We have all the rights of a full child in the family. And where before we were lonely, suddenly we’re surrounded by more Brothers and Sisters than we can count.

God loves us, and he wants to take us home. Not as slaves, not as servants. Not as just foster children who will one day have to fend for themselves again. But as REAL children, here and now. And he came a long way – from heaven to very earth, born in a manger, living among the poor and outcasts – so that he could make us his children

You see, each of us can be adopted as children of God. Not for a day, not for a short time – but for all of eternity. And that adoption doesn’t come when we die. We don’t have to wait until we’re no longer “minors” to enjoy the inheritance that has been left to us.

Because our inheritance is more than just living forever. It’s more than just our own little paving stone in the streets of gold, better than a mansion in the sky. Our inheritance and our home can be found right HERE and NOW.

Suddenly, we’re loved and accepted for who we are, not for what we can contribute to someone else’s well-being.

Suddenly, we find grace and forgiveness for the things we have done wrong.

Suddenly, we have purpose and meaning – to live in a way so that OTHERS will be adopted too, so that our whole world can be taken into God’s love.

Suddenly, we are in a home, surrounded by our true brothers and sisters, all children of the same Father – siblings in every way except for blood.

Conclusion

Now I want us to return to our first story for a little twist. Imagine these children in a few years. Imagine they have grown, gone to school and to college. And imagine we go looking for them at home and they are not there. We look for them at their jobs, and they are not there. We look for them among their own families, and they are not there.

To find them, we travel all the way back to the far-off country where they were born. And there they are, living among the same people. They show no signs that they were ever adopted, even though legally they are still full children of their adopted parents. They wear rags and no shoes. They work the jobs they should have had to work. They act as if they’ve had no education. They are already sick from lack of proper medical care. They will not improve themselves or anyone else.

In short – they are living as though they had never been adopted.

And what about us? Are we acting as the adopted children of God? Are we living as children who have been given so much love, forgiveness and acceptance that we have to give it away? Or are we hoarding it to ourselves?

Are we acting as those who are loved with a greater love than we can imagine? Or are we still acting as though we must find acceptance – by enslaving ourselves to what others think of us?

Are we acting as those whose every need will be provided for? Or are we worrying as if we will never have enough?

Are we acting as the adopted children of God?

Wow…

After reading this recent article at EthicsDaily, I only had one reaction.

Wow.

There are several things disturbing about this story to me, besides the fact that I’m pretty sure some of the stories being told are either embellished or downright false.

First, Warren says in his own book that his style of church will not work everywhere. Of all the places in the world you’d expect a hard time implementing a California-based church model, the Deep South would be on the top of the list to me. Living in Birmingham, I saw several churches try it, and many of them are now in shambles. The main problem is that Warren’s model is more lay-driven, while many Deep South SBC churches are still very top-driven (much as they may try to deny it).

A church is a living organism. You can’t go to India and uproot a rubber tree, bring it to the desert climate of Arizona and plant it there. It will die. It does not have the characteristics needed to live in that kind of environment. You cannot take a postmodern seeker-style church model, uproot a traditional church, and replace the roots. It’s silly. And it’s usually done in the name of gaining members.

Second, while I’m sure some of these stories were exaggerated or made up, there must be some element of truth to the way the Bellevue church staff is behaving. And my question to all those raising their hands in protest is: Did you not expect this? Did you look at Gaines’ past actions? Did you see how his Gardendale Church was run before you brought him to Memphis? I visited the church in Gardendale on a couple of occasions while I was in Birmingham, and am not in the least bit surprised – just from my observations of his worship leadership – that some of these stories might be true.

This is sad to me on so many levels. Bellevue is a great church with a deep history of doing God’s kingdom work.

Just in Case…

Just in case any is actually reading my blog from time to time…

I’m also posting on the blog of a friend of mine, and that conversation (currently on the topic of God and evil) is taking up most of my blogging time and energy at the moment. Check it out if you have time. It’s waitingtolive.wordpress.com.

Also, I’ve completed work (for the time being, there are still a few bugs to work out) on the Kenbridge Baptist Website. Included in this launch is a blog that will contain my weekly sermons. They can either be read directly from the blog site, or from a page embedded in the church website.

Who knew I had this much time to write?!

Eloi, eloi… (part 2)

Once again, I turn to the familiar cry of Jesus on the cross. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Why am I here, God? Why have you brought me to this place? I love the people, I love the work (when I’m able to give myself to it fully). But I feel out of place, like a wildflower planted in the middle of an interstate. Or maybe more like a weed in a garden. I don’t know.

In the last two years, I’ve read and prayed and thought of a different kind of Church, a different kind of Christianity. And my soul resonates with that. My mind rejoices in a faith that seems less like a straightjacket, and more like a comfortable pair of sweats. My spirit rejoices that a God who seemed so distant for long time now seems just a bit closer, just a bit more like a God I’d want to know. My heart quickens to think that this deep thirst may be closer to being quenched… or at least, satiated for a while.

But I feel like I’ve been paraded by the beautiful fountain, only to be led out into the desert. I feel dried up, abandoned, helpless. Where I am now seems like the opposite of that place I want to be. All those things that I have talked about the Old Church being? All those stuffy flannel-board images of God, all those meaningless repetitions of prayers and songs? That’s where I am. And it doesn’t seem my “new kind of Christianity” is making much of a difference.

Why am I here? Surely I am in the place God wants me to be, but why is it that – no matter how much I may see a place and think it’s where I need to be – why is it that when God puts me there, I almost immediately begin to feel it’s not right? I know it MUST be right. The circumstances behind it, the affirmations of the Spirit, everything shows me that God has brought me here.

So why do I feel like “here” is a desert, and not a lush pasture?

Disciple? What’s that?

The life of a disciple… what does it mean? This morning, as I was preparing to get to work in the office I took up a copy of Fisher Humphreys’ new book, I Have Called You Friends. In that book, he discusses several NT images for following Christ. The first is “Disciple” – a term that seems to have been so overburdened with baggage that it carries little meaning anymore.

Humphreys suggests using the term “Apprentice” instead, one who follows a master around watching him closely, learning from him what to do. An apprentice to a plumber follows an experienced plumber around, all the while watching and listening to what the master does and says, so that one day this apprentice can one day be a master plumber as well.

For some reason, when I looked at that statement, all the baggage fell off the term “disciple” for me. I could suddenly see myself as one of those disciples, following Jesus around, watching his every action and listening to every word. I was standing there by the seaside, when he came to me and called me to follow him. Like the others, I looked around and wondered whether he had really meant ME. But, sensing that there was more to this than just a simple decision, I stood and followed him.

For some reason, I feel this has revitalized me… has the potential to transform me even. But I don’t feel like this can be done alone. I feel as if this has to be a community thing. I’ve long felt that it would be easier to live the life of a disciple in a community of believers who are encouraging each other and lifting each other up in prayer.

But does such a community exist? Can I find such a place? Can I help CREATE such aa place?