June 11, 2006: Whose Church?
Romans 8:12-17, Psalm 29

Eileen Parfrey - Springwater Presbyterian Church

Adoption triggers in my mind the picture of an event that took place in Madison, the summer before we left. We happened to come upon hordes of brightly-colored dressed Korean children, whose clothes I recognized from seminary as formal Korean dress. The children looked like so many butterflies dancing, surrounded by crowds of proud-looking Anglo adults. It was the culmination of a cultural intensive for children adopted from Korea by American parents. By claiming their children's biological culture, the parents hoped to bridge a gap for their children, that of not looking like Mom and Dad.

Today's scripture addresses that issue for God's adopted children. The firstborn natural Son-he looks like the Parent. Jesus. It is he who enables us to do what happened in the old folk tale, the one about the ugly hero who wears a beautiful mask for so many years that he discovers, when he takes off the mask, that his "real" face now looks like the mask. He has grown into the mask. Our Parent was so anxious to bridge that gap-the one between what our Parent looks like and what we look like-so ready for us to take on the family resemblance, that we were given a mask to grow into. When we try to be like our Big Brother, Jesus, when we practice being his disciples-we take on his characteristics. It isn't that we're trying to be "God," but in trying to be like our big brother, we become fully and completely what human beings were created to be.

It is puzzling that God felt the need to acquire more heirs (us), when Jesus was already God's heir. I don't get that. But as Jesus' brothers and sisters, we have the full privilege of inheritance. In ancient patriarchal cultures, the heir (the firstborn male) received a double portion of the estate. If there were four kids to inherit, the estate was divided in fifths, with the heir getting two fifths. The math doesn't exactly work on this, but being God's heirs means that each of us gets a double share of the inheritance of God.

Let me tell you a story about Cardinal Basil Hume, the former head of the Roman Catholic Church in England. Cardinal Hume's family of origin was very strict. He remembers his mother taking the children into the pantry, pointing out the cookie jar and telling them that the contents of that jar were for desserts only on holidays. If they even put their hand in the jar between times, there would be trouble. And then, to make sure they stayed away from the cookies, she reminded them that God was watching them and would know. The kids were terrified. The young cardinal-to-be's relationship with God turned at that point from a childlike trust to that of a petty thief under the eagle eye of a vigilant policeman. Young Basil grew up to enter the Benedictine order as an observant and cloistered monk where the multitude of strict monastic rules neatly fit his upbringing. Cardinal Hume recalls receiving one day "a very special grace" that completely changed his attitude toward God. He realized that if as a child he had put his hand in the cookie jar, and if it had been between meals, and if God had really been watching he, he would have said, 'Son, why don't you take another one?' Is that grace or what?

This is a God of abundance, a God who wishes the very best for us. Not a God who says, "Whatever you want is OK with me." Not a God who says, "If it makes you feel good, go ahead and do it." But not a punitive God, either. Not a God who watches us closely to correct us. Before Rick and I knew much about the west coast culture, when we visited California, we relied on our Midwestern biases to help us understand the logic of California traffic laws. When we couldn't figure out speed limits, we'd say, "Whatever makes you feel most self-actualized." Well, that is not how God helps us plan our lives. But I assure you that it is God's intention that we become fully and completely who we were created to be. Especially since it means taking on the family resemblance.

Adoption by God changes everything for us. As individuals, of course. Our evangelical brothers and sisters speak of adoption as "personal salvation." But they give the impression that salvation is an individual issue, and no one is adopted in isolation. Adoption pre-supposes family. It's good to know that, like those adopted Korean children and Anglo parents, we might not look like each other. Adoption by God is not to make us into bologna. Our Parent celebrates, encourages, even creates, our individuality. But the Parent also helps us grow into the family likeness. We become like our Big Brother the same way the hero in the folk tale did-by wearing the mask of discipleship and thus growing up into the family likeness.

Which, of course, begs the question, what's "grown up"? If we're only talking developmental psychology, we might mean emotional and mental maturity. The ability to think in abstract concepts. Accountability. Respect for others, cooperation, making and keeping commitments, willingness to compromise, being in right relationship with others. But this adopted family of ours also looks for spiritual maturity. A sense of belonging to something more than ourselves. Compassion for others. Self-knowledge, spiritual consolations, insights. Above all, right relation with God.

One of my friends is adopting an older, at-risk child who has severe behavioral challenges. The child has benefited from professional intervention and shows self-knowledge more informed than many children her age. She's working hard to use all the control skills she has learned, and one day she said to my friend, "I'm trying to be good so you won't send me away." My friend reassured the child that she would not send her away for being bad. They would work together to learn ways to help each other meet the challenges. God tells us the same thing. "I love you no matter what. I've adopted you for good, and you don't need to earn it." The mere fact that God also wishes us to grow up, to grow into full-fledged human beings in ever-increasing unity with our adopted parent, is not about our being "good enough." It's a matter of being family together. Attending the celebrations and holidays together, remembering the silly stories with all the in-jokes, knowing that home really is where they have to take you back, realizing that "grown up" is what you want to be-with all the commitment and accountability, self knowledge and self-compassion that goes with it. Grow up! And family is where they help you learn to do that. Thanks be to God!