God's Beloved Children

This morning, as I do every month, I was celebrating the Eucharist with the Sisters of Saint Anne, an Episcopal Convent in Arlington. I had brought along my son, Isaiah, and my mother, who’s visiting this week. Since the service is at 8 am and I couldn’t let him off at daycare before, the idea was for my mom to hold Isaiah during the service, and then we’d drop him off on the way home. Of course, it was not so simple.

 I should preface this by saying that even though they see each other fairly infrequently Isaiah loves my mother. She is much more fun than I am, and this week Isaiah has enjoyed himself immensely. But once I got behind that altar, Isaiah wanted mama, now, please, and cried and cried. My mother tried to calm him down but he was not interested. The sisters love Isaiah—the nuns are retired now, but years ago they had a school and children were always at the center of their life together. But all the smiles and peek-a-boo in the world from these sweet ladies was not enough to distract him. So after I read the Gospel, I invited Isaiah to come up and help with the sermon. Securely attached to my hip, all was right with his world again. He stayed there through the Eucharistic Prayer and all the way to the end—the one-handed Fraction was a little rough, but I think it turned out okay.

 

The Gospel for the day rather cryptic, so I had already decided to preach on the Epistle instead:

 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. (Eph 1: 3-6)

 Every spiritual blessing is ours. God our Creator has chosen us, before the foundation of the world. God chose us for adoption, to be beloved children through Christ, according to the pleasure of God’s will. As I reflected on this passage with the sisters, I wondered what it would be like if each of us were so aware of our connection to God as children are aware of their parents. Young children are so observant, so aware at every moment of what their parents are doing. What if we were so aware at all times of what God, our beloved abba were doing? (Abba is the term Jesus used, more akin to “daddy” than “father”) What if, at the invitation to come close to God, we remembered the child’s inclination to run toward love?

 Instead, when we feel we are separated from God, it becomes all the harder for us to come near. Sin and anxiety make it harder for us to see that God is right there with us. And as my mother pointed out as we left, when we’re separated from God it becomes all the harder for us to see love in other places. Isaiah just wanted me, but forgot how much he loves his grandmother. But the circle goes both ways—when we are near to God, we are also more open to the love of our families and friends that surrounds us on every side, too.

 Take a moment now to dwell in God’s desire for you: that “glorious grace bestowed on us in the Beloved.” Nothing can separate you from that.  Not your worry, not your anger, not your grief. God is with you, longing for you, even there. Thanks be to God.