As an introverted WASP who spent her formative years in the Northeast, I would have to be possessed by supernatural forces before I ever spontaneously yelled "AMEN!" during a church sermon. Yet this past Sunday, there were three moments during the sermon when I came perilously close to leaping from my seat with a cheer. The text was Ephesians 4:11-12, "And He gave some apostles, and some prophets, and some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of service, to the building up of the body of Christ." The message was that the 'professional' ministers are there to equip believers, not to do all the ministry. Paul's expectation is that the congregation does the work of ministry in the church and in the world. I wholeheartedly agree with this urging to let go of the spectator/consumer model of church that is so prevalent (and destructive) in US churches.
What I loved about Matt's approach to this topic, however, was that he wasn't speaking from the perspective of a worn out pastor who is sick of everyone expecting him to do all the work. I have heard this passage preached from that perspective before. What Matt emphasized was how detrimental it is to the individual believer to treat church as a spectator event. I firmly believe that there are few things as out-of-this-world fantastic as being used by God for His Glory. I don't have words strong enough to describe it. And if you never engage in ministry, 'get in the fight,' then you will miss one of the best glimpses of heaven that we get in this life. As just one example, I clearly remember a morning when I served breakfast to a batch of surly teenagers. Ladling out eggs with a smile and a greeting for each kid was the tiniest act of service, and yet it was one of the happiest moments I've had.
The application portion of the sermon was very much geared toward the idea of "going." There was a video highlighting the 100 People Network, which is one of the coolest evidences of the Holy Spirit's power I've seen in the past five years. Matt also spoke boldly about how the Austin Stone defines success--they would be happier about sending 3000 people out of the church to serve God's mission than they would be about attracting 3000 people into the church who simply attend and connect within the church. I love that, and I absolutely agree with the desire to 'release' believers to pursue God's passions, even if that means 'losing' a church member (or several thousand!).
As I sat listening, I thought of the fact that foster care, adoption, and global orphan care are missions for which the command "go" is not quite the right fit. Do these missions call you to step out of your comfort zone? Absolutely. Do they often require that you go to training, to different countries, to the limit of your financial and emotional resources? You betcha. But the mission of orphan care requires a further step. We do not simply obey the command "Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you."(Matthew 28:19-20) That is definitely part of it, but the command we follow is more "Let the children come to Me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God." (Luke 18:16)
To go tell people about the great love of Jesus is one thing, and it is a great and God-pleasing thing. But to open your door, your home, your heart and show the great love of Jesus to a child who has been hurt, ignored, or abandoned is something else. I don't think one is better than the other, or that we must choose between them. I just think "GO" sometimes means saying, "come."
"See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven." Matthew 18:10
August 31, 2011
August 27, 2011
A Conference to Consider
In October of 2010, I attended the Together for Adoption conference in Austin. I didn't have a reason for going other than a feeling that I was supposed to go. I had attended the Verge conference hosted by my church earlier that year; they mentioned T4A, and I just felt a nudge, "go to that." I was just beginning to discover the whole adoption world through the adoption journey of our church's worship leader, Aaron Ivey, and his family. Then Together for Adoption offered an amazing discount for seminary students, so I signed up. As I registered, I noticed a pre-conference day called "Empowered to Connect" run by a woman I'd never heard of named Karyn Purvis. Again, I don't really know why I signed up for that, but I did.
Those three days changed my life. Literally (yes, really!). I sat in that auditorium and felt as though God were reaching into my heart and wrenching it for these children. I'm not much of a crier, but I cried more in that three days than I think I have ever cried. And so it was, in many ways, an intensely painful time. But as I sat, destroyed, I began to hear from God the answer to a question I had been asking since I applied to Dallas Theological Seminary in 2008. I felt called to seminary, but I had no idea why or what purpose God had for me in this world. At the conference, He answered. All the various ways He has wired me for this, equipped me for this, called me to this passed through my mind like a series of tetras cubes falling into place. And Christian, there is no greater joy than to get an inkling of God's will for your life and how you can glorify His name.
Since that conference, I have taken amazing seminary courses to help prepare me to shepherd children and families; I attended an intensive and invaluable training with that very Dr. Purvis whose pre-conference I signed up for on a whim; I now spend my days helping my church figure out how we can best equip our people to respond to the orphan crisis with the Gospel; I am training to become a foster parent.
One conference...endless repercussions...major life change. Unbelievable pain and indescribable joy. Check out this year's conference--pray and see if God is urging you to attend. I can promise you will not be disappointed by what you hear and learn through Together for Adoption.
Just don't say I didn't warn you. =)
August 26, 2011
A Little Adventure
The following story involves underwear, but is 100% G rated. Also, I asked Anne’s permission to share it, and she agreed.
Today I took my younger sister, Anne, out for lunch. Anne has Down Syndrome and lives in a residential community here in Austin that she loves. She’s famous in our family for hanging up the phone after a five minute conversation with a hurried, “Well, I better let you go [click].” So I try to take her out to lunch as often as I can to get the real scoop on how she is doing.
We had a great conversation at lunch, during which I told her my plans to become a licensed foster parent this fall. We had talked about it before, and she was very enthusiastic, but I wanted to let her know that things were actually moving along faster than I had originally thought they would. She was all in favor of it; I had worried she might be jealous of my time, but she was really sweet and excited about it.
We had some time on our hands at the end of lunch, and we often stop by the local drugstore to pick up various things she needs. She usually needs cleaning supplies, as she has elevated “neat freak” to a whole new level. Today she said she needed to get some (and I quote) “personal hygiene items,” so I said, “Let’s go by the drugstore on the way back.” Well it turned out that what she needed was underwear, which of course you can’t get at the drugstore (or maybe you can, but I doubt you’d want to). I asked her how many pairs she had, and she said “two.” This sent me into something of a bewildered panic, since no one likes to hear that a loved one is making do with only two pairs of underwear. After much back and forth questioning, it turned out that she had been throwing underwear away (I won’t even go into the reasons, which were not logical reasons for throwing underwear away, and baffled me even further).
So I called my mom and found out where Anne gets her underwear and what size and everything. We headed to Target, and I asked Anne what color she wanted to get. She said we should get white because she had plenty of black pairs. Baffled, yet again, I turned to her and said, “What? How many black pairs do you have?” After another long back and forth which verged on the vaudevillian, we determined that Anne had in her possession not merely two pairs of underwear, but actually ten. The issue, apparently, was that she only had two clean pairs. (I should add that Friday is her laundry day, so the great underwear crisis of 2011 turned out to be not a problem at all.) But by then we had arrived at Target, Anne apologetic and me chuckling from the confusion and humor of the situation. As we pulled into a parking space, Anne put a hand on my arm and said, out of the blue, “You’re going to be a great mom.”
Anne is incredibly competent in so many ways. Her social skills put mine to shame. She adores pretty much everyone she’s ever met. She is tenderhearted with a sometimes infinite capacity for empathy, and she delights in making other people happy. She can clean and organize so well that she would easily run my house better than I do. Her faults (and as a sister, I know them well) have nothing to do with her disability—she has the family stubbornness and an inability to keep her face from showing her emotions. She is so capable, in fact, that I often forget her limitations. Until, of course, I discover that she has thrown away essential clothing and doesn’t handle numbers and preparation very well. It is impossible for her to say simply, “I’m running low on underwear and I would like to have more pairs so I don’t worry about running out of clean clothes.” It took twenty minutes (no exaggeration) of patient cross examination to figure out what the real situation was.
And yet, smack dab in the middle of a moment of alarm that she is not as capable of caring for herself as I thought she was, she stuns me with one of the kindest, truest things she has ever said. I will be a great mom. And I will owe that greatness in large part to Anne. I have trained for motherhood by loving Anne: caring for her, watching over her, protecting her, challenging her, laughing with her. And Anne has trained me for motherhood by showing me absolutely unconditional devotion, unstinting hugs, and the most abundant love I will see this side of heaven. All that is worth infinitely more than the price of an eight-pack of underwear.
“Blessed are the gentle, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Matthew 5:5-8
Today I took my younger sister, Anne, out for lunch. Anne has Down Syndrome and lives in a residential community here in Austin that she loves. She’s famous in our family for hanging up the phone after a five minute conversation with a hurried, “Well, I better let you go [click].” So I try to take her out to lunch as often as I can to get the real scoop on how she is doing.
We had a great conversation at lunch, during which I told her my plans to become a licensed foster parent this fall. We had talked about it before, and she was very enthusiastic, but I wanted to let her know that things were actually moving along faster than I had originally thought they would. She was all in favor of it; I had worried she might be jealous of my time, but she was really sweet and excited about it.
We had some time on our hands at the end of lunch, and we often stop by the local drugstore to pick up various things she needs. She usually needs cleaning supplies, as she has elevated “neat freak” to a whole new level. Today she said she needed to get some (and I quote) “personal hygiene items,” so I said, “Let’s go by the drugstore on the way back.” Well it turned out that what she needed was underwear, which of course you can’t get at the drugstore (or maybe you can, but I doubt you’d want to). I asked her how many pairs she had, and she said “two.” This sent me into something of a bewildered panic, since no one likes to hear that a loved one is making do with only two pairs of underwear. After much back and forth questioning, it turned out that she had been throwing underwear away (I won’t even go into the reasons, which were not logical reasons for throwing underwear away, and baffled me even further).
So I called my mom and found out where Anne gets her underwear and what size and everything. We headed to Target, and I asked Anne what color she wanted to get. She said we should get white because she had plenty of black pairs. Baffled, yet again, I turned to her and said, “What? How many black pairs do you have?” After another long back and forth which verged on the vaudevillian, we determined that Anne had in her possession not merely two pairs of underwear, but actually ten. The issue, apparently, was that she only had two clean pairs. (I should add that Friday is her laundry day, so the great underwear crisis of 2011 turned out to be not a problem at all.) But by then we had arrived at Target, Anne apologetic and me chuckling from the confusion and humor of the situation. As we pulled into a parking space, Anne put a hand on my arm and said, out of the blue, “You’re going to be a great mom.”
Anne is incredibly competent in so many ways. Her social skills put mine to shame. She adores pretty much everyone she’s ever met. She is tenderhearted with a sometimes infinite capacity for empathy, and she delights in making other people happy. She can clean and organize so well that she would easily run my house better than I do. Her faults (and as a sister, I know them well) have nothing to do with her disability—she has the family stubbornness and an inability to keep her face from showing her emotions. She is so capable, in fact, that I often forget her limitations. Until, of course, I discover that she has thrown away essential clothing and doesn’t handle numbers and preparation very well. It is impossible for her to say simply, “I’m running low on underwear and I would like to have more pairs so I don’t worry about running out of clean clothes.” It took twenty minutes (no exaggeration) of patient cross examination to figure out what the real situation was.
And yet, smack dab in the middle of a moment of alarm that she is not as capable of caring for herself as I thought she was, she stuns me with one of the kindest, truest things she has ever said. I will be a great mom. And I will owe that greatness in large part to Anne. I have trained for motherhood by loving Anne: caring for her, watching over her, protecting her, challenging her, laughing with her. And Anne has trained me for motherhood by showing me absolutely unconditional devotion, unstinting hugs, and the most abundant love I will see this side of heaven. All that is worth infinitely more than the price of an eight-pack of underwear.
“Blessed are the gentle, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Matthew 5:5-8
August 24, 2011
A Nudge Between the Shoulder Blades
For the past few weeks, I’ve really been wrestling with the question of timing. The full battle is enough material for a whole other post, but suffice to say that I gave God an ultimatum this Monday. (I always feel like such a sinner when I do that, but God has repeatedly worked miraculously in the face of my defiant demands). I basically said, “Lord, if I am supposed to do this now, I need a clear sign from You.” And then Monday, through a circuitous set of circumstances, I came upon this video. I watched the Introduction and was galvanized for professional ministry. I watched Chapter One and the decision was made.
Watch it. Watch the way the shutters behind their eyes slam down at the phrase “foster care.” Watch it and pray that God will open your eyes to ways He wants to use you to help them.
I have not been a Christian for very long (just five years), but I am certain of one thing. When you pray, earnestly, that God will break your heart for what breaks His, He will.
“How often I wanted to gather your children together, just as a hen gathers her brood under her wings…” Luke 13:34
Watch it. Watch the way the shutters behind their eyes slam down at the phrase “foster care.” Watch it and pray that God will open your eyes to ways He wants to use you to help them.
I have not been a Christian for very long (just five years), but I am certain of one thing. When you pray, earnestly, that God will break your heart for what breaks His, He will.
“How often I wanted to gather your children together, just as a hen gathers her brood under her wings…” Luke 13:34
August 23, 2011
Buy This DVD!!
I’m not making any money off of promoting this video. I have no connection to the TCU Institute of Child Development other than the fact that I am wholly in awe of the work they do. I did an intensive professional training with Drs. Purvis and Cross this past June, and I will be eternally grateful for the wisdom and skills they taught me. I absolutely believe in their research and their methods, and I’m pretty sure God does too. To my mind, Jesus was practicing TBRI before anyone else. =)
If I could afford to buy one of these DVDs for every foster and adoptive family in the world, I absolutely would. It is hard to keep myself from passing out flyers about it in our children’s ministry hallway (or on street corners, for that matter). Now the TCU ICD website is offering some fantastic preview videos of the DVD so you can try before you buy. Check it out and pass it on!!
If I could afford to buy one of these DVDs for every foster and adoptive family in the world, I absolutely would. It is hard to keep myself from passing out flyers about it in our children’s ministry hallway (or on street corners, for that matter). Now the TCU ICD website is offering some fantastic preview videos of the DVD so you can try before you buy. Check it out and pass it on!!
August 21, 2011
A Hoarse Life
I love my church, The Austin Stone Community Church. Love them (and yes, it’s a ‘them,’ not an ‘it’ =). One of my favorite things about The Stone is the worship, which is powerful, Spirit-driven, and just gets downright rowdy. It is both theologically rich and abundantly joyful. I can honestly say that I have never experienced anything like it anywhere else. There is an exuberant delight in the Lord that pervades the worship services, accompanied by a humility of heart. The combination results in Spirit-filled, God-glorifying worship that echoes the joy I associate with the first century churches. It is loud and raucous, and I often come away literally hoarse from shouting praise to the Lord.
We have been going through a three week series on the DNA of the church, and tonight’s emphasis was on being “For the City.” Words cannot describe how much I love the missional heart of this church. The greatest desire of my heart is to exalt Christ in everything and to serve His kingdom. It still amazes me that this is the greatest desire of the Austin Stone as well. I have attended dozens of churches in my nomadic life, but I have never seen a church that so effectively practices what it preaches. Even the least involved attenders contribute in sacrificial ways, and the entire culture of the church is one of action and authenticity. Yet with all of the social justice work the church undertakes, they never lose sight of the importance of elevating the Gospel—communicating it clearly and constantly both within the congregation and the community.
It is not the skill or talent of the leadership or the congregation that makes this possible. We are all just as broken and wicked as every human. When I brag about my church, I am not bragging about what we do, but about who empowers us to do it. Not one thing that I love about the church would be there without the unfailing power of the Holy Spirit.
“I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection.”
--Stuart Townend
Tonight’s sermon was a reiteration of the reasons we hold so fiercely to the biblical command “But prove yourselves doers of the word, and not merely hearers who delude themselves.” (James 1:22) It was brilliant, and you should listen to the podcast. After the sermon, we sang one of my favorite songs, “With Everything,” by Hillsong United. The chorus runs,
“With everything, with everything,
we will shout for Your glory
With everything, with everything,
we will shout forth Your praise.”
And tonight a high school gym full of people shouted this song at the top of their lungs. Many of us, myself included, came away with hoarse voices and sore throats—our praise had been so earnest and exuberant that it literally affected us physically. It would be obvious to anyone that my voice was hoarse. And if I had been asked, “what happened to your voice?” I would have answered, “I wore it out praising my Great God and Savior.”
I want my life to be hoarse. I want to live with exuberant joy, self-sacrificing love, and a Christ-centered heart to such an extreme that it is obvious to everyone. I want people to see the way I live, the person that I am, and ask, “what happened to your life?” And I want to answer, “I wore it out, praising my Great God and Savior.”
We have been going through a three week series on the DNA of the church, and tonight’s emphasis was on being “For the City.” Words cannot describe how much I love the missional heart of this church. The greatest desire of my heart is to exalt Christ in everything and to serve His kingdom. It still amazes me that this is the greatest desire of the Austin Stone as well. I have attended dozens of churches in my nomadic life, but I have never seen a church that so effectively practices what it preaches. Even the least involved attenders contribute in sacrificial ways, and the entire culture of the church is one of action and authenticity. Yet with all of the social justice work the church undertakes, they never lose sight of the importance of elevating the Gospel—communicating it clearly and constantly both within the congregation and the community.
It is not the skill or talent of the leadership or the congregation that makes this possible. We are all just as broken and wicked as every human. When I brag about my church, I am not bragging about what we do, but about who empowers us to do it. Not one thing that I love about the church would be there without the unfailing power of the Holy Spirit.
“I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection.”
--Stuart Townend
Tonight’s sermon was a reiteration of the reasons we hold so fiercely to the biblical command “But prove yourselves doers of the word, and not merely hearers who delude themselves.” (James 1:22) It was brilliant, and you should listen to the podcast. After the sermon, we sang one of my favorite songs, “With Everything,” by Hillsong United. The chorus runs,
“With everything, with everything,
we will shout for Your glory
With everything, with everything,
we will shout forth Your praise.”
And tonight a high school gym full of people shouted this song at the top of their lungs. Many of us, myself included, came away with hoarse voices and sore throats—our praise had been so earnest and exuberant that it literally affected us physically. It would be obvious to anyone that my voice was hoarse. And if I had been asked, “what happened to your voice?” I would have answered, “I wore it out praising my Great God and Savior.”
I want my life to be hoarse. I want to live with exuberant joy, self-sacrificing love, and a Christ-centered heart to such an extreme that it is obvious to everyone. I want people to see the way I live, the person that I am, and ask, “what happened to your life?” And I want to answer, “I wore it out, praising my Great God and Savior.”
August 20, 2011
A Test-Drive
I spent my afternoon with ten foster children, ages 10 months to fifteen years. I was helping provide childcare for a foster parent training that ran from 9am to 4pm. I had signed on for the afternoon “shift,” since I had a meeting this morning that I couldn’t miss.
When I opened the door to the room where the kids were, the scene in front of me was utter bedlam. There was a movie playing loudly on a large tv screen, but no one was watching it. Most of the kids were running helter-skelter around the room, an eleven-year-old girl promptly informed me that she was “the boss” in charge of the children, and the two adults looked up at my entrance with faces full of relief and bewilderment. No one was bleeding or crying or fighting, but it was certainly a chaotic scene.
I did not usher in waves of calm and order as I stepped into the room, much though I would have loved to descend like Mary Poppins, instantly transforming each child from chaotic to cool and collected. But I did, unknowingly, gravitate toward the ‘problem child’ of the bunch (which is not to say she was a problem, she just happened to be more toward the end of her rope than the rest). I made a sort of one step forward, two steps back kind of progress with her; we played nicely for a while, then she would punch someone. We made funny faces in the mirror, then she smacked me in the face. We played duck-duck-goose, then she dumped an entire bottle of water on the slick concrete floor and proceeded to treat it like a slip n’ slide. I managed to gently grab her before she split her skull open, but only just. And all this while the other kids ran amok.
BUT. The TBRI techniques (which, ironically, the parents were learning in the other room) work. The rowdy, uncontrollable pre-teen boys? We had them do a spinning contest, carefully curtailed before exhaustion set in, then a push up contest followed by a crab walk race. By the end of this triathlon, they were calmly playing hangman or watching a movie.
The two wild children we took into the main building to run back and forth in a long hallway. They loved it, and it calmed them down in a way we never could have managed in the small, crowded main room. After running, balanced with breaks for deep breaths and some water, both were ready to sit and read with me in the room. And the fifteen year-old, an unbelievably sweet, shy guy, was brought in with the adults to help with some role-play and examples.
At the end of the day, I came away with some lessons learned.
When I opened the door to the room where the kids were, the scene in front of me was utter bedlam. There was a movie playing loudly on a large tv screen, but no one was watching it. Most of the kids were running helter-skelter around the room, an eleven-year-old girl promptly informed me that she was “the boss” in charge of the children, and the two adults looked up at my entrance with faces full of relief and bewilderment. No one was bleeding or crying or fighting, but it was certainly a chaotic scene.
I did not usher in waves of calm and order as I stepped into the room, much though I would have loved to descend like Mary Poppins, instantly transforming each child from chaotic to cool and collected. But I did, unknowingly, gravitate toward the ‘problem child’ of the bunch (which is not to say she was a problem, she just happened to be more toward the end of her rope than the rest). I made a sort of one step forward, two steps back kind of progress with her; we played nicely for a while, then she would punch someone. We made funny faces in the mirror, then she smacked me in the face. We played duck-duck-goose, then she dumped an entire bottle of water on the slick concrete floor and proceeded to treat it like a slip n’ slide. I managed to gently grab her before she split her skull open, but only just. And all this while the other kids ran amok.
BUT. The TBRI techniques (which, ironically, the parents were learning in the other room) work. The rowdy, uncontrollable pre-teen boys? We had them do a spinning contest, carefully curtailed before exhaustion set in, then a push up contest followed by a crab walk race. By the end of this triathlon, they were calmly playing hangman or watching a movie.
The two wild children we took into the main building to run back and forth in a long hallway. They loved it, and it calmed them down in a way we never could have managed in the small, crowded main room. After running, balanced with breaks for deep breaths and some water, both were ready to sit and read with me in the room. And the fifteen year-old, an unbelievably sweet, shy guy, was brought in with the adults to help with some role-play and examples.
At the end of the day, I came away with some lessons learned.
1. Keeping any child content and calm in one plain room during a seven hour training is a challenge.
2. TBRI works. Over and over and immediately. Kids love it, and adults love implementing it.
3. Looking behind behavior is essential. The violent, uncontrollable child was really just stir crazy from being cooped up too long. Let her run off some energy in an empty hallway, and she’ll be ready to sit and read.
4. Working with children is absolutely exhausting. It just is. God bless all of you parents!!
August 19, 2011
Tax-Free May Mean Child Free
This morning I accidentally went to Target. Which is not to say that I didn’t mean to go to Target. The accidental part was not realizing that today is the first day of the annual “tax-free weekend” here in Texas. I would say that it was a zoo, but zoos, in my experience, keep their wild animals safely behind bars. Not so the crowd at Target. The place was jammed with frazzled mothers, each towing at least half a dozen children.
Some people love shopping. They thrive in situations like this, planning all year for the opportunity to shop on tax-free weekend, the insane day after Thanksgiving, and that horror of horrors, December 26th. Not me. The day I discovered that you could order things online was the day I thanked God I would never have to set foot in a mall again.
I have many reasons to hate shopping, but first and foremost is the fact that I hate crowds. I like people; I like groups of people; I even occasionally like large gatherings of people. But crowds, and especially crowds of strangers (and especially if half of those strangers are screaming at the other half, a la Target this morning) send me running for a dark quiet corner.
I am, and always have been, what they call “highly sensitive.” This does not mean that I burst into tears at the slightest criticism or go around all in black quoting beat poets. It just means that I have a kind of antennae that is always reading the world, particularly the people, around me. It’s not a super power or anything, and it is not especially useful most of the time. Knowing that the woman two aisles over is sad about something doesn’t do much but make me wonder what she is sad about. It does help a great deal in my interactions with children, but other than that it’s just the way I’m wired. Most days, it’s a neutral or positive trait. But in a crowd, the sheer amount of data coming through the antennae is exhausting.
What does this have to do with anything? Well, kids from hard places have a similar sensitivity, though to a much greater degree. It’s hyper awareness, sometimes called hyper vigilance. They are actively, fiercely reading the world at all times. Early trauma, abuse, or neglect wired their brains to be on constant alert. Their survival depended on it, and even if it doesn’t any longer because they’ve been adopted into safe, loving homes, the brain’s wiring remains set to alert mode. One of the TA’s at the TBRI training told how his son, now grown, still warns him about potentially dangerous details on the freeway. Not things like “there’s a stalled 18 wheeler up ahead.” His son will say “there’s a car with a wobbly tire four lanes over.” Or if you’ve ever seen the TV show “Lie to Me,” one of the characters, Ria Torres, is a ‘natural’ at reading people—she knows instinctively what it took the show’s main scientist decades to learn. She knows it because of childhood abuse—reading her abuser’s emotions at all times helped her avoid his rage and survive.
Honestly, it’s amazing that the brain can adapt like this to ensure our survival. But it makes things like a crowded store a minefield for a child from a hard place. It is tiring enough for them to read their immediate family all the time. Hyper vigilance in a store full of stressed, angry, competitive people is like a marathon. And we all know that exhausted children don’t calmly curl up for a nap. They explode.
So don’t take your child to the store if you know it’ll be crowded, and be willing to leave if the place is packed. Don’t go to the grocery store during peak hours or when you’re in a rush. Don’t go anywhere hungry or dehydrated or right after school. If you see four school buses parked outside the children’s museum, drive on by and go a different day.
If you are fostering, adopting, or have bio kids who are sensitive to crowds or noise, or even if you just don’t want to fight with your child over which cereal you are buying, delegate shopping trips whenever possible. If you’re married, send your spouse to the store with a list, or have him or her keep the kids while you go. Or send a friend with a list and some cash. I know plenty of people who would never agree to babysit, but who would love to grab a few things for a friend at Target. You could even set up an exchange with another parent: you keep the kids while he/she shops and vice versa.
And if you’re worried your child will reach eighteen and never have been in a grocery store, why not go on a dry run sometime? Pick a slow time of day (you can even call the store and ask them when their slower times are) and go into the store without buying anything. Walk all through it, letting your child lead the way, and just explore. This can be a great way of introducing the child to the experience without overwhelming him/her and without the added pressure of buying things.
Just don’t do it on tax-free weekend. =)
Some people love shopping. They thrive in situations like this, planning all year for the opportunity to shop on tax-free weekend, the insane day after Thanksgiving, and that horror of horrors, December 26th. Not me. The day I discovered that you could order things online was the day I thanked God I would never have to set foot in a mall again.
I have many reasons to hate shopping, but first and foremost is the fact that I hate crowds. I like people; I like groups of people; I even occasionally like large gatherings of people. But crowds, and especially crowds of strangers (and especially if half of those strangers are screaming at the other half, a la Target this morning) send me running for a dark quiet corner.
I am, and always have been, what they call “highly sensitive.” This does not mean that I burst into tears at the slightest criticism or go around all in black quoting beat poets. It just means that I have a kind of antennae that is always reading the world, particularly the people, around me. It’s not a super power or anything, and it is not especially useful most of the time. Knowing that the woman two aisles over is sad about something doesn’t do much but make me wonder what she is sad about. It does help a great deal in my interactions with children, but other than that it’s just the way I’m wired. Most days, it’s a neutral or positive trait. But in a crowd, the sheer amount of data coming through the antennae is exhausting.
What does this have to do with anything? Well, kids from hard places have a similar sensitivity, though to a much greater degree. It’s hyper awareness, sometimes called hyper vigilance. They are actively, fiercely reading the world at all times. Early trauma, abuse, or neglect wired their brains to be on constant alert. Their survival depended on it, and even if it doesn’t any longer because they’ve been adopted into safe, loving homes, the brain’s wiring remains set to alert mode. One of the TA’s at the TBRI training told how his son, now grown, still warns him about potentially dangerous details on the freeway. Not things like “there’s a stalled 18 wheeler up ahead.” His son will say “there’s a car with a wobbly tire four lanes over.” Or if you’ve ever seen the TV show “Lie to Me,” one of the characters, Ria Torres, is a ‘natural’ at reading people—she knows instinctively what it took the show’s main scientist decades to learn. She knows it because of childhood abuse—reading her abuser’s emotions at all times helped her avoid his rage and survive.
Honestly, it’s amazing that the brain can adapt like this to ensure our survival. But it makes things like a crowded store a minefield for a child from a hard place. It is tiring enough for them to read their immediate family all the time. Hyper vigilance in a store full of stressed, angry, competitive people is like a marathon. And we all know that exhausted children don’t calmly curl up for a nap. They explode.
So don’t take your child to the store if you know it’ll be crowded, and be willing to leave if the place is packed. Don’t go to the grocery store during peak hours or when you’re in a rush. Don’t go anywhere hungry or dehydrated or right after school. If you see four school buses parked outside the children’s museum, drive on by and go a different day.
If you are fostering, adopting, or have bio kids who are sensitive to crowds or noise, or even if you just don’t want to fight with your child over which cereal you are buying, delegate shopping trips whenever possible. If you’re married, send your spouse to the store with a list, or have him or her keep the kids while you go. Or send a friend with a list and some cash. I know plenty of people who would never agree to babysit, but who would love to grab a few things for a friend at Target. You could even set up an exchange with another parent: you keep the kids while he/she shops and vice versa.
And if you’re worried your child will reach eighteen and never have been in a grocery store, why not go on a dry run sometime? Pick a slow time of day (you can even call the store and ask them when their slower times are) and go into the store without buying anything. Walk all through it, letting your child lead the way, and just explore. This can be a great way of introducing the child to the experience without overwhelming him/her and without the added pressure of buying things.
Just don’t do it on tax-free weekend. =)
August 18, 2011
How Deep the Father's Love for Us
Ever Wondered What God's Love Looks Like?
If this video doesn’t bring tears to your eyes, you may not have a pulse. =)
I have been following the Hatmakers’ story through their blogs, and it is just amazing to see Beniam finally coming home. As I was watching the video, I kept wanting to say to Brandon, “don’t let him go; don’t put him down!”
Their embrace is such a beautiful reminder of God’s love for His lost children. And once we put our arms around the Father’s neck, He never lets us go.
“How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory.”
--Stuart Townend
If this video doesn’t bring tears to your eyes, you may not have a pulse. =)
I have been following the Hatmakers’ story through their blogs, and it is just amazing to see Beniam finally coming home. As I was watching the video, I kept wanting to say to Brandon, “don’t let him go; don’t put him down!”
Their embrace is such a beautiful reminder of God’s love for His lost children. And once we put our arms around the Father’s neck, He never lets us go.
“How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory.”
--Stuart Townend
August 12, 2011
A Theology of Adoption, Simply Summarized
Despite the fact that I have posted mine as such, a theology of adoption does not need to be nine parts long. It is in fact, very simple. Why should we care about orphans?
1. Because God Does
2. Because God Says So
3. Because We Are Orphans Too
The God of the Bible is a God who cares passionately for the least of these. His Heart and Eyes are forever turned toward the poorest, the powerless, the passed over. He is the Father to the fatherless.(Psalm 68:5) He is a God who delights in rescuing the forlorn and the forgotten.
Because He is so passionate about caring for those who cannot fend for themselves, He repeatedly instructs His people to defend the cause of the orphan. There are more commands about caring for orphans than there are against murder. He wants believers to be aware of the needs of the neediest and to provide for them.
Spiritually, all humans are orphans. We live in a world that is broken, in which power is abused and circumstances are unpredictable. We live in fear, hopelessness, and bewilderment. And it breaks God’s heart. Because of His great love for us, He sacrificed Himself to bring us into His family, forever. The God we call Father is the same God who bled and died to fulfill His promise: “I will not leave you as orphans.”(John 14:18) If we seek to become more like Christ, then we must extend the same self-sacrificing love to orphans that He did.
Therefore if there is any encouragement in Christ, if there is any consolation of love, if there is any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and compassion, make my joy complete by being of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose. Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be [grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. --Philippians 2:1-8
1. Because God Does
2. Because God Says So
3. Because We Are Orphans Too
The God of the Bible is a God who cares passionately for the least of these. His Heart and Eyes are forever turned toward the poorest, the powerless, the passed over. He is the Father to the fatherless.(Psalm 68:5) He is a God who delights in rescuing the forlorn and the forgotten.
Because He is so passionate about caring for those who cannot fend for themselves, He repeatedly instructs His people to defend the cause of the orphan. There are more commands about caring for orphans than there are against murder. He wants believers to be aware of the needs of the neediest and to provide for them.
Spiritually, all humans are orphans. We live in a world that is broken, in which power is abused and circumstances are unpredictable. We live in fear, hopelessness, and bewilderment. And it breaks God’s heart. Because of His great love for us, He sacrificed Himself to bring us into His family, forever. The God we call Father is the same God who bled and died to fulfill His promise: “I will not leave you as orphans.”(John 14:18) If we seek to become more like Christ, then we must extend the same self-sacrificing love to orphans that He did.
Therefore if there is any encouragement in Christ, if there is any consolation of love, if there is any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and compassion, make my joy complete by being of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose. Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be [grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. --Philippians 2:1-8
August 9, 2011
A Theology of Adoption, Part Nine
Adoption in the Writings of Paul
Paul uses adoption language and imagery to convey the truth that believers have become children of God through their faith in Jesus Christ. “For Paul, in Galatians, all believers are children of Abraham through faith and children of God through adoption.”1 For Paul, the term conveys more than a caregiver relationship. Writing to Romans, Paul chose the metaphor of adoption, which in Rome meant that “the person adopted (at any age) was taken out of his previous condition, all old debts were cancelled, and he started a new life in the relation of sonship to the new paterfamilias, whose family name he took and to whose inheritance he was entitled.”2 This idea of radical new identity resulting from adoption would have been clear to Paul’s readers. The important issue of inheritance would be equally obvious, since the main motivation behind Greco-Roman adoption was to secure inheritance. Using adoption language to describe the standing of Gentiles in relation to God therefore paints a vivid picture of who now inherits eternal life. The Old Testament frequently uses adoption imagery to describe God’s relationship with Israel. Paul confirms that, through Christ, God is extending that same adoption offer to the non-Israelites who believe.
“For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him.” (Rom 8:15-17)
In Paul’s writing, adoption is the very essence of the Gospel. It is central to the redemptive plan of God, and demonstrates the profound, sacrificial love and mercy He extends to His creation. “But when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, so that He might redeem those who were under the Law, that we might receive the adoption as sons. Because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” Therefore you are no longer a slave, but a son; and if a son, then an heir through God.” (Gal 4:5-7)
One marked difference, however, between God’s adoption of believers and the Roman adoption practices is that God is not motivated by any merit on the part of the adoptee. He adopts out of the goodness and love that so typify Him. “In love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved.”(Eph 1:4-6)
___________________________________
1. David L. Bartlett, “Adoption in the Bible,” in The Child in the Bible, ed. Marcia J. Bunge, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2008), 390.
2. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed., (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 65.
Paul uses adoption language and imagery to convey the truth that believers have become children of God through their faith in Jesus Christ. “For Paul, in Galatians, all believers are children of Abraham through faith and children of God through adoption.”1 For Paul, the term conveys more than a caregiver relationship. Writing to Romans, Paul chose the metaphor of adoption, which in Rome meant that “the person adopted (at any age) was taken out of his previous condition, all old debts were cancelled, and he started a new life in the relation of sonship to the new paterfamilias, whose family name he took and to whose inheritance he was entitled.”2 This idea of radical new identity resulting from adoption would have been clear to Paul’s readers. The important issue of inheritance would be equally obvious, since the main motivation behind Greco-Roman adoption was to secure inheritance. Using adoption language to describe the standing of Gentiles in relation to God therefore paints a vivid picture of who now inherits eternal life. The Old Testament frequently uses adoption imagery to describe God’s relationship with Israel. Paul confirms that, through Christ, God is extending that same adoption offer to the non-Israelites who believe.
“For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him.” (Rom 8:15-17)
In Paul’s writing, adoption is the very essence of the Gospel. It is central to the redemptive plan of God, and demonstrates the profound, sacrificial love and mercy He extends to His creation. “But when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, so that He might redeem those who were under the Law, that we might receive the adoption as sons. Because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” Therefore you are no longer a slave, but a son; and if a son, then an heir through God.” (Gal 4:5-7)
One marked difference, however, between God’s adoption of believers and the Roman adoption practices is that God is not motivated by any merit on the part of the adoptee. He adopts out of the goodness and love that so typify Him. “In love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved.”(Eph 1:4-6)
___________________________________
1. David L. Bartlett, “Adoption in the Bible,” in The Child in the Bible, ed. Marcia J. Bunge, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2008), 390.
2. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed., (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 65.
August 4, 2011
A Theology of Adoption, Part Eight
Orphan Care in the Gospels
The Old Testament is clear: Jews are to care for the ‘widow and the orphan.’ This care is one of the behaviors that marks them as separate from surrounding cultures and displays the character of God to those cultures.(Deut 10:10) Jesus does not specifically lay out a plan for how His followers should treat orphans, but there is no reason to believe that He advocated abandoning a practice that was so closely tied to the very character of God. Jesus was in fact adamantly upholding the Old Testament when He said, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished.”(Matt 5:17-18) Both the law and the prophets speak consistently about the high priority God places on caring for orphans. Jesus warns His followers, “Therefore anyone who sets aside one of the least of these commands and teaches others accordingly will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven.”(Matt 5:19) Caring for orphans is not even “the least of these commands;” it is in fact one of the most frequent.
Despite the fact that Jesus does not mention orphans specifically, they certainly fall into several of the groups He refers to in the Sermon on the Mount. Orphans definitely would be included in “the poor in spirit;” “those who mourn;” and “the meek.”(Matt 5:3-5) They would also certainly be included in the generic ‘poor’ about whom Jesus is continuously concerned. It is not surprising that Jesus does not teach specifically on adoption, for “the process of adoption was unknown among the Jews,” at least in the formal sense (such as the Romans practiced).1 It is clear, however, that Jesus constantly exhorts His followers to care for the unwanted and unprotected, and orphans epitomize this population.
Much of Jesus’ instructions in these areas were given by example more than by utterance, and He gave clear teaching on the importance of hospitality to children in Mark 9:36-37: “Taking a child, He set him before them, and taking him in His arms, He said to them, ‘Whoever receives one child like this in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me does not receive Me, but Him who sent Me.’” It would be difficult to find a more direct injunction to care for the least of these. “Since a little child rather than an adult is the object of the verb here, more than simple hospitality to a guest is implied; something analogous to assuming a parental role may be intended. Not only love and acceptance (in contrast to denigration) of little children but attending to their needs in a more comprehensive sense is suggested by the parallelism of the verbs ‘hug’ and receive.’”2
Jesus teaches a similar lesson when the disciples try to keep children from pestering Him. In an episode recorded in both Mark and Matthew, Jesus rebukes the disciples and instead blesses the children with an action that echoes Jacob’s blessing of Ephraim and Manasseh (grandsons he adopted as his own) in Genesis 48:5. Jesus not only repeats Jacob’s action of laying hands on the children, He also speaks specifically of an inheritance: “Let the children alone, and do not hinder them from coming to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”(Matt 19:14) There is a strong suggestion of adoption imagery in Jesus’ actions here. The loving contact of taking the children in His arms and blessing them provides a beautiful model of God’s love for His own children, and the response believers are to have toward children in need.
One of the most significant instances of adoption in the New Testament is also one of the easiest to overlook. So much emphasis is placed on the fact that Jesus is God’s Son (and rightly so) that readers often miss the fact that Jesus is also Joseph’s adopted son. Certainly, the divinity of Christ is paramount to our fundamental theology, but the adoption by Joseph bears weight as well. Unlike Roman adoption, there was no formal court proceeding or legal document in Jewish custom. Instead, Joseph’s adoption of Jesus is administered through the naming of the child,3 just as Moses became Pharaoh’s daughter’s son when she named him. Moses’ adoption gave him the tools he would need in his later ministry, and Jesus’ adoption by Joseph gives Him rights and a lineage that will be essential in His role as the Messiah. “It is this adoption that makes possible the claim that Jesus is not only Son of God but also (still) son of David, Messiah, through his adoptive father. In this sense Joseph follows the pattern both of Old Testament and of first-century Greco-Roman adoption: he claims Jesus for his own and by claiming him makes him part of his patrilineal family--son of Joseph, son of David.”4
Jesus, Himself an adopted son, clearly instructed His followers to care for the various categories of the oppressed and hurting, a group which would certainly include orphans. Jesus never once uses the word adoption, and the beatitudes offer no promise specifically to the fatherless. Yet in one of His last interactions with the disciples before His arrest, Jesus tells the disciples that He is going to prepare a room for them in His Father’s house. His descriptions imply that this is more than an offer of hospitality; He is offering them a place in His family. This is made even clearer as He promises, “I will not leave you as orphans.”(John 14:18) Not only does He offer His followers a place in His family, He makes it clear that He is proactive in this relationship. It is not that they have a home if they should choose to come to Him; He says, “I will come to you.”(John14:18) The resulting relationship is closer than a blood tie: “In that day you will know that I am in My Father, and you in Me, and I in you.”(John 14:20) Jesus does not use the word adoption, perhaps because it was too weak a term culturally for the close relationship that He described. He instead declared that none of His followers would be orphans; all had a loving Father and family (the Trinity) that would seek them out and with whom they would live forever.(John 14:23)
______________________________________
1. Douglas J. Moo, “Romans,” in Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary, volume 3, ed. Clinton E. Arnold, (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2002), 47.
2. Judith Gundry, “Children in the Gospel of Mark,” in The Child in the Bible, ed. Marcia J. Bunge, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2008), 156.
3. David L. Bartlett, “Adoption in the Bible,” in The Child in the Bible, ed. Marcia J. Bunge, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2008), 387. Exod 2:10; Matt 1:20-25
4. Bartlett, 387.
The Old Testament is clear: Jews are to care for the ‘widow and the orphan.’ This care is one of the behaviors that marks them as separate from surrounding cultures and displays the character of God to those cultures.(Deut 10:10) Jesus does not specifically lay out a plan for how His followers should treat orphans, but there is no reason to believe that He advocated abandoning a practice that was so closely tied to the very character of God. Jesus was in fact adamantly upholding the Old Testament when He said, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished.”(Matt 5:17-18) Both the law and the prophets speak consistently about the high priority God places on caring for orphans. Jesus warns His followers, “Therefore anyone who sets aside one of the least of these commands and teaches others accordingly will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven.”(Matt 5:19) Caring for orphans is not even “the least of these commands;” it is in fact one of the most frequent.
Despite the fact that Jesus does not mention orphans specifically, they certainly fall into several of the groups He refers to in the Sermon on the Mount. Orphans definitely would be included in “the poor in spirit;” “those who mourn;” and “the meek.”(Matt 5:3-5) They would also certainly be included in the generic ‘poor’ about whom Jesus is continuously concerned. It is not surprising that Jesus does not teach specifically on adoption, for “the process of adoption was unknown among the Jews,” at least in the formal sense (such as the Romans practiced).1 It is clear, however, that Jesus constantly exhorts His followers to care for the unwanted and unprotected, and orphans epitomize this population.
Much of Jesus’ instructions in these areas were given by example more than by utterance, and He gave clear teaching on the importance of hospitality to children in Mark 9:36-37: “Taking a child, He set him before them, and taking him in His arms, He said to them, ‘Whoever receives one child like this in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me does not receive Me, but Him who sent Me.’” It would be difficult to find a more direct injunction to care for the least of these. “Since a little child rather than an adult is the object of the verb here, more than simple hospitality to a guest is implied; something analogous to assuming a parental role may be intended. Not only love and acceptance (in contrast to denigration) of little children but attending to their needs in a more comprehensive sense is suggested by the parallelism of the verbs ‘hug’ and receive.’”2
Jesus teaches a similar lesson when the disciples try to keep children from pestering Him. In an episode recorded in both Mark and Matthew, Jesus rebukes the disciples and instead blesses the children with an action that echoes Jacob’s blessing of Ephraim and Manasseh (grandsons he adopted as his own) in Genesis 48:5. Jesus not only repeats Jacob’s action of laying hands on the children, He also speaks specifically of an inheritance: “Let the children alone, and do not hinder them from coming to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”(Matt 19:14) There is a strong suggestion of adoption imagery in Jesus’ actions here. The loving contact of taking the children in His arms and blessing them provides a beautiful model of God’s love for His own children, and the response believers are to have toward children in need.
One of the most significant instances of adoption in the New Testament is also one of the easiest to overlook. So much emphasis is placed on the fact that Jesus is God’s Son (and rightly so) that readers often miss the fact that Jesus is also Joseph’s adopted son. Certainly, the divinity of Christ is paramount to our fundamental theology, but the adoption by Joseph bears weight as well. Unlike Roman adoption, there was no formal court proceeding or legal document in Jewish custom. Instead, Joseph’s adoption of Jesus is administered through the naming of the child,3 just as Moses became Pharaoh’s daughter’s son when she named him. Moses’ adoption gave him the tools he would need in his later ministry, and Jesus’ adoption by Joseph gives Him rights and a lineage that will be essential in His role as the Messiah. “It is this adoption that makes possible the claim that Jesus is not only Son of God but also (still) son of David, Messiah, through his adoptive father. In this sense Joseph follows the pattern both of Old Testament and of first-century Greco-Roman adoption: he claims Jesus for his own and by claiming him makes him part of his patrilineal family--son of Joseph, son of David.”4
Jesus, Himself an adopted son, clearly instructed His followers to care for the various categories of the oppressed and hurting, a group which would certainly include orphans. Jesus never once uses the word adoption, and the beatitudes offer no promise specifically to the fatherless. Yet in one of His last interactions with the disciples before His arrest, Jesus tells the disciples that He is going to prepare a room for them in His Father’s house. His descriptions imply that this is more than an offer of hospitality; He is offering them a place in His family. This is made even clearer as He promises, “I will not leave you as orphans.”(John 14:18) Not only does He offer His followers a place in His family, He makes it clear that He is proactive in this relationship. It is not that they have a home if they should choose to come to Him; He says, “I will come to you.”(John14:18) The resulting relationship is closer than a blood tie: “In that day you will know that I am in My Father, and you in Me, and I in you.”(John 14:20) Jesus does not use the word adoption, perhaps because it was too weak a term culturally for the close relationship that He described. He instead declared that none of His followers would be orphans; all had a loving Father and family (the Trinity) that would seek them out and with whom they would live forever.(John 14:23)
______________________________________
1. Douglas J. Moo, “Romans,” in Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary, volume 3, ed. Clinton E. Arnold, (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2002), 47.
2. Judith Gundry, “Children in the Gospel of Mark,” in The Child in the Bible, ed. Marcia J. Bunge, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2008), 156.
3. David L. Bartlett, “Adoption in the Bible,” in The Child in the Bible, ed. Marcia J. Bunge, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2008), 387. Exod 2:10; Matt 1:20-25
4. Bartlett, 387.
August 2, 2011
A Theology of Adoption, Part Seven
Orphans in the Greco-Roman World
The practice of adoption and the problem of orphans were completely distinct issues in the cultures and societies of Greece and Rome. One of the few things the two issues had in common was that they were both, in terms of legal classification, limited to the higher classes of society. “It is difficult to know how far down the social and economic ladder the rules of guardianship had effect. In general, the Roman state shaped its private law to regulate the relationships among society’s elite.”1 The practice of ‘guardianship’ of orphans (defined as children without a living father or grandfather)2 applied to a broader range of Romans than adoption; a guardian did not have to be a Roman citizen, as an adoptee did. But the entire system relied on literacy, lawyers, and court proceedings that would render it inaccessible to the majority of the Empire’s population.
Culturally, orphans were looked down upon. Children and youths whose parents were both living (rare in an age of short life expectancy and dangerous childbirth) were exalted in Ancient Greece as being especially blessed by fortune.3 This value carried on into the Imperial period in Rome; “the emperor Augustus instituted a choir of amphithaleis [youths with both parents living] in 17 B.C. to sing on the Capitoline Hill as part of the emperor’s Secular celebration.”4 If society believed that children with both parents were especially blessed, it stands to reason that they would view children who had lost both parents as especially cursed. Even if the children’s mother was alive, she had no legal authority over them. This element of the Roman response to orphans differed considerably from the Jewish practice, in which mothers and grandmothers took a more active role.5 Roman widows most likely continued to care for and live with their children, but they were not permitted to be legal guardians.6 The motivation behind this was again tied to property rights.
The Roman system of guardianship was convoluted and continually changing. Three types of situations could occur: 1. The extended family would appoint a guardian for the orphans, in which case the guardian had to be a Roman citizen. 2. The father named a guardian in his will before he died, in which case the guardian did not have to be a citizen. 3. “In cases where the deceased father had left no will and the orphans had no living paternal male relative, the praetor urbanus, together with the ten tribunes, appointed a respectable person to serve as guardian.”7 The guardian’s responsibilities mainly involved administration of the orphans’ property until they came of age.8 Unfortunately, the position was often abused, especially as regarded the property rights. Embezzlement by the guardian became such a widespread problem that new governmental positions were created to oversee the prosecution of any injustices.9
Interestingly, though guardians administered the property and often arranged for the orphans’ education, the guardianship did not automatically imply custody of the children. In many cases, the basic care of the children was conducted by others (the mother, maternal relatives, etc).10 In fact, there was a fair amount of societal concern that orphans whose death might financially benefit their guardians should not live with them for fear some harm might come to the children.11
Male orphans placed under the authority of guardians would ‘age out’ of such care at fourteen, and were then expected to administer their own property. They could ask for ‘curators’ to help them navigate this process, but ultimately they became legally independent at fourteen.12 Female orphans, on the other hand, remained under the authority of the guardian for their entire lives, just as a biological daughter would have remained under her father’s authority.13
In all, the system of guardianship was legally complex, prone to abuse by greedy guardians, and only available to a small percentage of the population. Lower class orphans would have had to rely on extended family to take them in, and that was never a sure bet. The practice of abandoning unwanted infants to die was common in Greco-Roman culture, and the poorer classes had a hard enough time feeding themselves without adding extra mouths around the table. In addition to the difficulties of urban poverty, Rome dealt with the consequences of being a conquering empire; one such consequence was a significant population of orphans, both in the territories and in the city. The best hope for these children was to be taken in as slaves; “The Romans did not design their laws of guardianship to address the problem of providing food, shelter, and care for homeless waifs.”14
The Greeks and Romans were clearly not winning any Good Samaritan awards for their approach to orphan care. But what are God’s instructions about caring for the fatherless? Tomorrow’s post will discuss what the New Testament has to say about orphan care.
___________________________________
1. Timothy S. Miller, The Orphans of Byzantium: Child Welfare in the Christian Empire, (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2003), 40.
2. Miller, 24.
3. Miller, 24-25.
4. Miller, 25.
5. Miller, 44.
6. Miller, 44.
7. Miller, 33.
8. Miller, 34.
9. Miller, 34.
10. Miller, 35.
11. Miller, 35.
12. Miller, 36.
13. Miller, 36.
14. Miller, 40.
The practice of adoption and the problem of orphans were completely distinct issues in the cultures and societies of Greece and Rome. One of the few things the two issues had in common was that they were both, in terms of legal classification, limited to the higher classes of society. “It is difficult to know how far down the social and economic ladder the rules of guardianship had effect. In general, the Roman state shaped its private law to regulate the relationships among society’s elite.”1 The practice of ‘guardianship’ of orphans (defined as children without a living father or grandfather)2 applied to a broader range of Romans than adoption; a guardian did not have to be a Roman citizen, as an adoptee did. But the entire system relied on literacy, lawyers, and court proceedings that would render it inaccessible to the majority of the Empire’s population.
Culturally, orphans were looked down upon. Children and youths whose parents were both living (rare in an age of short life expectancy and dangerous childbirth) were exalted in Ancient Greece as being especially blessed by fortune.3 This value carried on into the Imperial period in Rome; “the emperor Augustus instituted a choir of amphithaleis [youths with both parents living] in 17 B.C. to sing on the Capitoline Hill as part of the emperor’s Secular celebration.”4 If society believed that children with both parents were especially blessed, it stands to reason that they would view children who had lost both parents as especially cursed. Even if the children’s mother was alive, she had no legal authority over them. This element of the Roman response to orphans differed considerably from the Jewish practice, in which mothers and grandmothers took a more active role.5 Roman widows most likely continued to care for and live with their children, but they were not permitted to be legal guardians.6 The motivation behind this was again tied to property rights.
The Roman system of guardianship was convoluted and continually changing. Three types of situations could occur: 1. The extended family would appoint a guardian for the orphans, in which case the guardian had to be a Roman citizen. 2. The father named a guardian in his will before he died, in which case the guardian did not have to be a citizen. 3. “In cases where the deceased father had left no will and the orphans had no living paternal male relative, the praetor urbanus, together with the ten tribunes, appointed a respectable person to serve as guardian.”7 The guardian’s responsibilities mainly involved administration of the orphans’ property until they came of age.8 Unfortunately, the position was often abused, especially as regarded the property rights. Embezzlement by the guardian became such a widespread problem that new governmental positions were created to oversee the prosecution of any injustices.9
Interestingly, though guardians administered the property and often arranged for the orphans’ education, the guardianship did not automatically imply custody of the children. In many cases, the basic care of the children was conducted by others (the mother, maternal relatives, etc).10 In fact, there was a fair amount of societal concern that orphans whose death might financially benefit their guardians should not live with them for fear some harm might come to the children.11
Male orphans placed under the authority of guardians would ‘age out’ of such care at fourteen, and were then expected to administer their own property. They could ask for ‘curators’ to help them navigate this process, but ultimately they became legally independent at fourteen.12 Female orphans, on the other hand, remained under the authority of the guardian for their entire lives, just as a biological daughter would have remained under her father’s authority.13
In all, the system of guardianship was legally complex, prone to abuse by greedy guardians, and only available to a small percentage of the population. Lower class orphans would have had to rely on extended family to take them in, and that was never a sure bet. The practice of abandoning unwanted infants to die was common in Greco-Roman culture, and the poorer classes had a hard enough time feeding themselves without adding extra mouths around the table. In addition to the difficulties of urban poverty, Rome dealt with the consequences of being a conquering empire; one such consequence was a significant population of orphans, both in the territories and in the city. The best hope for these children was to be taken in as slaves; “The Romans did not design their laws of guardianship to address the problem of providing food, shelter, and care for homeless waifs.”14
The Greeks and Romans were clearly not winning any Good Samaritan awards for their approach to orphan care. But what are God’s instructions about caring for the fatherless? Tomorrow’s post will discuss what the New Testament has to say about orphan care.
___________________________________
1. Timothy S. Miller, The Orphans of Byzantium: Child Welfare in the Christian Empire, (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2003), 40.
2. Miller, 24.
3. Miller, 24-25.
4. Miller, 25.
5. Miller, 44.
6. Miller, 44.
7. Miller, 33.
8. Miller, 34.
9. Miller, 34.
10. Miller, 35.
11. Miller, 35.
12. Miller, 36.
13. Miller, 36.
14. Miller, 40.
August 1, 2011
A Theology of Adoption, Part Six
Adoption in the Historical Context of the New Testament
Like the Ancient Near Eastern cultures that surrounded the Israelites of the Old Testament, the Hellenistic [Greek] and Roman culture of the first century A.D. viewed adoption as a mainly economic institution.1 Couples who either had no children or had no sons would adopt a male, usually an adult, from their circle of friends, thus ensuring the passing of property from one generation to the next. Adoption was common among the higher levels of society as a method for securing familial alliances and sharing property. In its strictest legal form, it was limited to the upper classes: “most leading citizens seem to have chosen to adopt from members of their own class. They still had to be Roman citizens at the time of adoption.”2 Indeed, adoption was one way that families could move a step or two up the social ladder.
Adoption was one of the tools of the Roman system of patronage; adoptees were chosen based on their personal merit or the benefit that an alliance with their biological family would bring the adopter. “Romans sought to multiply their family ties because such alliances entailed obligations between relatives who could then rely on one another for mutual assistance. These bonds of kinship resulted from marriages--increasingly frequent due to divorce--and from adoptions.”3 In contrast to our modern concept of adoption, the person being adopted usually had living parents. “Neither divorce nor adoption cut children off from their original family, or the family of the wife from that of her former husband. The son of Aemilius Paullus, adopted by a Scipio and thereafter known as Scipio Aemilianus, spoke of both his fathers in equally affectionate terms.”4
In terms of its use in Roman society, adoption was in fact an institution more similar to marriage than to any kind of welfare system. It was therefore rare that very young children would be adopted.5 Adoption of adults or teens was the norm, and almost all adoptees were male. There was no adoption of women in the Republican period, and the few examples that exist in the Imperial period were made either to gain property for the adopter, or to facilitate marriages.6 “Octavia, the daughter of Claudius, is the earliest known case, adopted into another unspecified family to enable her marriage to Claudius’ adopted son Nero, and thus technically avoid the incest taboo.”7 The fact that Octavia had to leave her biological family in order to avoid an incest taboo with her adopted brother reveals how complete the assimilation into the new family was for the adoptee.
“Adoption was far more frequent and important in Roman society than it is today. The person adopted (at any age) was taken out of his previous condition, all old debts were cancelled, and he started a new life in the relation of sonship to the new paterfamilias, whose family name he took and to whose inheritance he was entitled. The new father now owned the adoptee’s property, controlled his personal relationships, and had the right of discipline, while assuming responsibility for his support and liability for his actions--all just as with natural children born into the home.”8
Adoption, despite the fact that the adoptee’s biological family was still living, entailed a radical new identity and new life. Adoption, to the Romans, meant moving (usually as an adult) from one family to another. It did not mean, nor did it really have anything to do with, providing homes for fatherless children. Tomorrow’s post will examine the Greco-Roman culture’s response to orphans.
__________________________________________
1. Hugh Lindsay, Adoption in the Roman World, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 219.
2. Lindsay, 22.
3. Florence Dupont, Daily Life in Ancient Rome, (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1992), 16.
4. Dupont, 16.
5. Lindsay, 221.
6. Lindsay, 73.
7. Lindsay, 73.
8. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed., (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 65-66.
Like the Ancient Near Eastern cultures that surrounded the Israelites of the Old Testament, the Hellenistic [Greek] and Roman culture of the first century A.D. viewed adoption as a mainly economic institution.1 Couples who either had no children or had no sons would adopt a male, usually an adult, from their circle of friends, thus ensuring the passing of property from one generation to the next. Adoption was common among the higher levels of society as a method for securing familial alliances and sharing property. In its strictest legal form, it was limited to the upper classes: “most leading citizens seem to have chosen to adopt from members of their own class. They still had to be Roman citizens at the time of adoption.”2 Indeed, adoption was one way that families could move a step or two up the social ladder.
Adoption was one of the tools of the Roman system of patronage; adoptees were chosen based on their personal merit or the benefit that an alliance with their biological family would bring the adopter. “Romans sought to multiply their family ties because such alliances entailed obligations between relatives who could then rely on one another for mutual assistance. These bonds of kinship resulted from marriages--increasingly frequent due to divorce--and from adoptions.”3 In contrast to our modern concept of adoption, the person being adopted usually had living parents. “Neither divorce nor adoption cut children off from their original family, or the family of the wife from that of her former husband. The son of Aemilius Paullus, adopted by a Scipio and thereafter known as Scipio Aemilianus, spoke of both his fathers in equally affectionate terms.”4
In terms of its use in Roman society, adoption was in fact an institution more similar to marriage than to any kind of welfare system. It was therefore rare that very young children would be adopted.5 Adoption of adults or teens was the norm, and almost all adoptees were male. There was no adoption of women in the Republican period, and the few examples that exist in the Imperial period were made either to gain property for the adopter, or to facilitate marriages.6 “Octavia, the daughter of Claudius, is the earliest known case, adopted into another unspecified family to enable her marriage to Claudius’ adopted son Nero, and thus technically avoid the incest taboo.”7 The fact that Octavia had to leave her biological family in order to avoid an incest taboo with her adopted brother reveals how complete the assimilation into the new family was for the adoptee.
“Adoption was far more frequent and important in Roman society than it is today. The person adopted (at any age) was taken out of his previous condition, all old debts were cancelled, and he started a new life in the relation of sonship to the new paterfamilias, whose family name he took and to whose inheritance he was entitled. The new father now owned the adoptee’s property, controlled his personal relationships, and had the right of discipline, while assuming responsibility for his support and liability for his actions--all just as with natural children born into the home.”8
Adoption, despite the fact that the adoptee’s biological family was still living, entailed a radical new identity and new life. Adoption, to the Romans, meant moving (usually as an adult) from one family to another. It did not mean, nor did it really have anything to do with, providing homes for fatherless children. Tomorrow’s post will examine the Greco-Roman culture’s response to orphans.
__________________________________________
1. Hugh Lindsay, Adoption in the Roman World, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 219.
2. Lindsay, 22.
3. Florence Dupont, Daily Life in Ancient Rome, (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1992), 16.
4. Dupont, 16.
5. Lindsay, 221.
6. Lindsay, 73.
7. Lindsay, 73.
8. Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed., (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 65-66.
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