Dec. 21: Sons & Daughters of The King: A Royal Community of Love

Life in Community (detail), Aidan Hart. Illuminated manuscript on vellum with gold leaf, ink, and tempera paint. © 2002 The Saint John's Bible. Saint John's University, Collegeville, Minnesota, USA. Used with permission. All rights reserved.

“Child of the King” from the album Good Things Take Time. Performed by: Gaither Vocal Band. Composed by: "Brother" Claude Ely.

Poetry:

“After Rublev’s Trinity”
by Carrie Purcell Kahler

Each face turned toward
a face at table leaving
always a space for

one more. An open
door to run through when someone
can’t quite make it home

on their own. Though the
wings work, humans haven’t got
them, and it’s hard to

converse from heights so,
in one hand a staff to lean
on. The other hand
ever reaches down.

THE SPIRIT OF ADOPTION: TURNING ORPHANS INTO FAMILY

Doesn’t every heart know something of being an orphan? Mine does.

I watch vigilantly for danger. I find security in savings buffers and back-up plans. I panic when I hit the limits of my self-sufficiency. Hidden behind my frantic problem-solving is a lie:I am on my own. There is no one else to protect, provide, or rescue. It’s all on me.

It’s very good news that Yahweh has always had a soft spot for orphans.

In Jesus, we’re adopted. But adoption is no simple solution. The heart once enslaved by fear must learn how to relax into the tender embrace of trustworthy love. The malnourished soul finds itself hoarding scraps though the pantry is stocked and the banquet prepared. The spirit that has panted for belonging often returns to broken cisterns instead of drinking deeply from Rivers of Love.

Adoption does not pretend to erase what came before. It extends a covenant of committed love for the road ahead: “Come what may, I will stay with you. I claim you. I am yours and you are Mine.”

It is hard for orphaned hearts to trust such a promise. So God draws near enough to sing lullabies over us from within: His Spirit of Love stirring hearts gone silent to take up the intimate plea of a toddler.Abba.

Slaves made sons. Orphans made heirs. The rejected, chosen. Those who longed for mercy cradled by compassion: Held at last by steady love.

But adoption doesn’t just mean a Father. It means a family. Remember: Yahweh has always had a soft spot for orphans.

This is the trickier part, isn’t it? After all, trauma has a habit of begetting dysfunctional families, and orphans know trauma. This Table bears no pretending, and we each come with wounds, scars, sins, and stories. Wearing the goldenalready, not yetcrown of a saint doesn’t erase the ways I’m difficult to love.

Being the Beloved sells easier than joining the Beloved community.

Still, adopted children are invited to take up the promise of their Abba: “Come what may, I will stay with you. I claim you. I am yours and you are mine.”*

What sustains such a promise? What renews bonds of love within a family that falls back, often, into the bondage of fear? What binds up the brokenness between us, not just within us?

Not what, but Who. The same Spirit who moves us to cry, “Abba” teaches us also to cry, “Brother.”

And this cry, too, is for our healing. Vigilant hearts that choose the risks of trust are healing. Grasping hearts that choose generosity are healing. Self-sufficient hearts that enter willingly into interdependence and mutual submission are healing.

And orphans who choose to practice committed love around a Table—“leaving / always a space for / one more”—are healing.

The Spirit at work within us and between us leads us tenderly out of isolation, until by loving and being loved we know that we are orphans no more. We are his. Together.

*Love does not mean staying proximate to harm, but practices boundaries and accountability. If you or someone you love is experiencing abuse, seek help.

Prayer:
Abba,
Meet us in the secret places no one else can reach. Give us courage to trace our wounds and come out of hiding. Help us relax into your goodness and receive your intimate, quieting care. As we open to you, help us to move toward one another, extending affection, welcome, grace, and forgiveness. Bind us by your Spirit as we do the hard work that family requires.

Hannah Williamson
Freelance Writer
Alumna of Biola University
Torrey Honors College

For more information about the artwork, music, and poetry selected for this day, please visit our website by going to https://ccca.biola.edu/advent/2024.