The Day You Were Adopted

This weekend, I stood beside a baptismal font and wept as my friends’ little boys were buried with Christ and raised to new life. Now, I’ve been to one or two (or twenty) baptisms. And I always get excited when I watch God’s beloved born again. But there was something different this time. Johnny and Lele are 5 years old but they’ve only been with their family for 6 months. So when we listened to the opening prayer for the feast of the Baptism of the Lord on the eve of their baptism, I don’t know that any 5-year-olds were ever more excited by a collect:

Almighty ever-living God, who, when Christ had been baptized in the River Jordan and as the Holy Spirit descended upon him, solemnly declared him your beloved Son, grant that your children by adoption, reborn of water and the Holy Spirit, may always be well pleasing to you.

Jesus was baptized, just like them! And God’s children are adopted, just like them!

Charlton baptismWhen the Gospel described the Father’s declaration, “This is my beloved son with whom I am well pleased,” Johnny’s face crinkled in joy as his mother whispered, “That’s you!” As dozens of friends and family members watched him in his pristine white suit, Lele leaned into his mom for security while Johnny bravely refused to hold his dad’s hand. And I stood there, having studied and taught and witnessed baptism time and time again, and understood better than I ever have.

Johnny and Lele adore their mommy and daddy. Nearly every night, Johnny wakes up and makes his way into their bed. He has no fear that they won’t want him, no insecurity. That’s his mom and dad—of course they want him. Lele snuggles into his dad when he’s taking a break from his wild game of marbles. Johnny calls for his mommy when he hurts himself. Dave and Janel aren’t their foster parents or second chance parents, they’re just their parents. It’s a complete and certain and unconditional relationship.

So when they heard that the Father was adopting them, they got it. God was going to be their daddy now. Not like their daddy. Their real, actual, no-holding-back, love-you-till-you-die (and then some) daddy. The Church isn’t like their family. It is their family. Jesus is their real big brother, their role model and best friend and family forever.

This is what happened to you on the day of your baptism. God the Father looked down from heaven, laughing for joy, and cried out, “That’s my boy!” or “That’s my girl!” And because he said it, it became true. You aren’t like his child, you are his child. He’s the one who cleans you up when you wet the bed, the one who holds you when you’re crying and you don’t know why, the one who yells too loud when you get fouled and even louder when you make the free throw. He’s not your stern father by some legal fiction, he’s your daddy who spent his life longing for you and came looking for you and did whatever it took to get you home with him.

This daddy of yours holds you close and whispers his love in your ear. He makes you mac and cheese and warns you sternly to eat it when you’re too distracted to take a bite. He loves you just like you’re really his child—because you are really his child.

Some of us take the love of our Father for granted. More of us don’t really believe it. We feel more like God’s our boss or our uncle or the owner of the factory that churned us out. But Johnny and Lele know different. They know that God picked them. He came looking for them. He made them his very own little boys and he loves them just like they were his from the womb. He’s their daddy forever, no matter what.

thats my babyNext time you bless yourself with holy water, remember that at your baptism, heaven was torn open. Your angel twinkled, your saint friends turned cartwheels, and your Daddy shouted, “That’s my baby! And I am so, so pleased.”

 

(Can I speak a moment to birth parents? You are a hero. You are the mother taking her baby to the font offering him the life he deserves, even if it means letting go of him as you hand him to the Father. You are a gift and a triumph of God’s mercy. Thank you for the sacrifice you made and continue to make every day. Thank you for teaching me what it means to love.)