The Rev. Carol Wedell
June 7, 2009

All of us want to belong.  It seems to be most visible during adolescence, when being a part of the "in" group seems so important.  My guess, however, is that belonging is important to all of us. You can see it in younger children as they stand to the side, waiting to be invited to join a game.  It's apparent among young adults, as they move farther away from their families, and try to decide what will ultimately define them.  I've seen young mothers sitting with their child in the park, wanting somehow to connect with a group of other young mothers who are all sitting together across the playground.  Deep inside there is a gnawing fear that we don't belong. Even middle-aged and older adults express the same desire:  to belong somewhere.  To matter.  To know that there is a place where they are truly safe.

Over 13 years ago, when we lived in Mentor, our eldest son, Scott, got off of the school bus in tears.  This was not a common occurrence, so I obviously asked him what was wrong.  "Dawn and Joey say that Justin isn't my real brother - he's just my step brother. They don't believe me when I tell them that he isn't my step-brother!"  There are simply some things from which you cannot protect your child. 

The irony of that situation is that Scott fully understood that he had a different father than Justin.  He had forgotten that the word was "half-brother."  He knew that his step-brother - someone with whom he shared no biological parent, lived in Indiana.  Furthermore, Scott knew that he belonged in our family and was devastated (as well as frustrated) that our neighbor children didn't believe him.  What makes a "real" brother or a "real" family anyway?

I am very aware that talking about families is difficult for some of you. While blended-families are an everyday occurrence, they offer unique challenges for all involved. Other issues can creep up, as well. Not all families offer the soft place to land that each of us needs.  Alcoholism or some other type of abuse may distort the love that may be hiding below the surface.  Parents may jokingly say, "you don't look like us - you must belong in your aunt's family," and wonder why that would hurt even decades later. Some people may have to distance themselves from their family of origin for their own well-being.

Even in solid, loving homes, there will be times when family members fail to live out the love they have for one another.  Doors get slammed, siblings squabble, voices get raised - or the tone becomes sarcastic, parents pressure their children to be the absolute best at everything, children rebel or go silent and couples sling words that would have been better left unsaid.  We have all been there and done at least some of that.

Children need to know whom to trust.  Some needs are universal:  to belong to a family, to have someone hold us, to know the presence of a loving parent.  All people have the same essential need for belonging:  to have friends and family, relationships that are safe and rewarding, a place to call home.  Too often we live in fear that those needs won't be met, or that we will be abandoned. 

For all of us, but especially for any of us who yearn for a family to which we can really belong there is good news this morning.  Another family, a place of safety and acceptance is waiting for us. Our reading this morning from Paul's letter to the church at Rome, tells us emphatically, that by the power of God's Spirit, we have been adopted into God's family.  We are sons and daughters of God.

In wealthy Roman families, when a child was born, the father had to approve or "adopt" it. If the child was defective, or if it did not have a family resemblance, or it was the "wrong" sex, or for any other reason, the baby would be "exposed", that is, left to die. Only those approved by the father were part of the family.  Adoption was taken quite seriously.   An adopted son was chosen by the adoptive father to perpetuate his name and inherit his estate; he was not at all inferior to any biological son.

Speaking of adoption may raise some issues as well. There was a time when being a child by adoption might mean that you were not considered a full-fledged member of the family. But if you have ever looked at an adopted child as "less than" a biological child, just talk to an adoptive parent or child. As one adoptive mother put it, "It is an easy story to tell of how much we wanted our daughter, all the crazy things we had to do to be eligible to adopt, and traveling to the other side of the world.  For me, it is a wonderful understanding to think that God brings that kind of longing and desire to be in relationship with each of us." (With thanks to Ruth Dudley, Midrash, June 09).

To be sure, adoptive families are susceptible to the same issues as those who are biologically related. Yet assuming the best, you will rarely meet a child who was adopted who views that negatively.  Another adoptive parent shared this story: "When our youngest was still in pre-school I was told one day when I picked him up that there was a discussion that centered around family stories of children's last weeks in the womb. Our son was not one to be left out of conversations (then or now) but did not have a story to share. He stopped the discussion when he finally spoke up saying: "I didn't grow in my mommy's tummy. But I know that she still loves me." (With thanks to Jane Baker, Midrash June 09).

And that, brothers and sisters in Christ, is what Paul is telling us.  As God's adopted children, we are deeply and truly loved.  And we are to know it! Slavery meant fear.  It meant no hope.  But here is the good news: we have been chosen!  Our membership in God's family is one into which we didn't just fall.  We were taken in.  The fear of abandonment, of not belonging is transformed into assurance and even courage.

The spirit of slavery no longer is in control. Paul is making sure that we understand that we are not simply freed from slavery.  An extraordinary liberation has occurred. We have been adopted by God, given all the privileges of being heirs to God's inheritance, second to no one.  The love which is at the heart of the good news invites us to belong.

We know this is true because of the new, intimate relationship we have with God.  God is not some distant being, as the Romans thought - and as many do today - removed from emotional needs, the great benefactor who stays disconnected.  Rather, Paul writes that when we cry out with the language of a child, "Abba" we are both confessing our need for God and claiming our relationship.  "Abba" is understood to mean something close and personal, "Daddy" or "Papa;" the kind of father whose arms are always there to catch you, who pulls you up on to his lap and listens while you talk about your day, who never abandons you. When we cry out to God, "Abba" Paul tells us, we are acknowledging that we do indeed belong to God.  And that belonging is close and intimate and trustworthy.

There may be some among us here this morning who struggle with talking about God using only the language of "Father."  Some women and men, especially those who have been abused or neglected by their fathers may find it difficult to see God as "Daddy," if their own daddy threatened their safety and well-being.  Bursts of anger or violence leave permanent marks, and for some the wounds run deep.

To be sure, the Bible is full of a host of other images of God:  a woman who will not forsake her nursing child; a mother hen, gathering her brood; a shepherd who protects the sheep; a woman who will not quit looking until she finds the one lost coin - you get the idea.  What's critical here is that we remember that the God who has chosen to adopt us is one who comes to us as the wonderfully compassionate daddy or mommy all of us need and deserve.  And that distinctively child-like language reminds us of how much we need to belong to this family - God's family.

Preacher, author and retired seminary professor, Fred Craddock tells of a time when he and his wife were eating at the Big Bear Inn in eastern Tennessee. While they were waiting for their meal to arrive, an older man, about 80 sauntered over to their table and said, "Good evening. Y'all on vacation?" "Yes," said the Craddocks.

As they talked with the man, the subject of Fred's occupation came up.  It's always interesting to see how people will respond when they find out you are a pastor!  When the stranger learned that Fred taught at a seminary, he said, "Oh - you teach preachers!  I have a story about a preacher," and the man pulled up a chair.

The old man said, "I was born back in these mountains.  My mother was not married, and the reproach that fell on her, fell on me. The children at school had a name for me and it hurt a lot. During recess I would go hide in the weeds until the bell rang. When I went to town with my mother, the men and women would stare at her, and then they would look at me.  It was a painful time."

"I guess I was in 7^th or 8^th grade when I started to go hear a preacher. In a way he frightened me, and in another way I was attracted. When he spoke, he thundered. I was afraid that people would say ‘what's a boy like that doing in church?' so I would go in just in time for the sermon and then I would rush out."

"One Sunday, however, some women cued up in line and I wasn't able to get out.  I began to sweat and get cold and I wondered, ‘Oh no, somebody's going to say to me, what's a boy like you doing in church?'"  Just then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw the preacher!  I thought to myself, ‘Oh no, he's going to guess.'  The preacher looked straight at me and stared into my face.  And then he said, ‘Boy, I know who you are and I know who you're father is.  You're a child of... you're a child of... you're a child of God.  I see a striking resemblance!'  Then he patted me on the shoulder and said, ‘Go claim your inheritance, son.'"

At that, the old man got up to leave.  Fred Craddock asked, "What's your name, sir?"  The old man turned and said, "Ben Hooper."  Ben Hooper who had served as Governor of Tennessee for two terms!

Imagine what that preacher's words meant to young Ben Hooper. Indeed, gratitude is the appropriate response for those who have been rescued from slavery, been taken into the family and given a future, an inheritance. We should be proud to wear "the family name," and seek to live according to the life and love-giving Spirit whether we are at work, home, school, hanging out with friends - anywhere we may be.  As one very wise adoptive-mother said, "Although we aren't blood-family...we are heart family and as we all know that is what matters."

Brothers and sisters, heirs by adoption - welcome home!