Becoming

For many years I have started off the Children’s Time of worship with this statement:

This is my Bible

I believe I can be

Everything it says I can be

I’ll never be the same

No, I’ll never be the same

In Jesus’ name.

Amen.

I will own the fact that I have stolen it in part from a happy go lucky, feel good mega church pastor; I own that.  I heard it used and it clicked as something I wanted children to understand.  

We say it together every Sunday, repeating it line by line.

Every now and again, I’ll take a time out and remind them of what it means, which is something good to do when you do liturgy.  Don’t say things because you’ve always said them and expect that people will join in just because everyone else is doing it (saying it)--stop and teach why you say what you say (or why you do what you do); teach the things that you believe.

On that note...

At some point last week, when I was running to stand still on a treadmill, I was debating on whether or not to do away with this saying that I’ve used in worship for 10 or more years.  But then I realized that this is an important statement of faith, and that while it may have started as a “Be the Best Me I Can Be” happy go lucky-ism, I have made it my own thanks to teachers like Henri Nouwen and Brennan Manning.

The Bible tells us that we are the Beloved.  Over and over and over again throughout the Scriptures, God is doing things for humankind precisely because we are Beloved.

It began with the Patriarchs and Matriarchs that preceded the children of Israel, was exemplified in God’s relationship with Israel (the people, not the modern Nation), and was perfected in the person and ministry of Jesus.

We are the Beloved.  Study and reflection of Scripture can show nothing but we are Beloved.  And once we let that “important piece of information” sink into our hearts and minds, we can never be the same.

I was asked fairly recently what my definition of grace is.

I tried to keep the answer short, really, I did.

I started by saying “Grace is the fact that God loves us, and has acted on our behalf, called us Beloved, not because we have earned it but because God can only love us.”

“So grace is love?”

“Not really,” I said back. “Grace is the action of God choosing to love us when we are, many times, not lovable.”

We kept talking for a long time after that, even though I think the asker of the question was done well before I was.

Grace calls me to be a better human being in the next moment than I was in the previous.  Not because I have earned love, or will earn love by being “better,” but because I desire to live as one who is Beloved. Grace gives me the strength to get back up again when I’ve screwed up yet again and hurt those who love me; it helps me remember that I have a reason to get back up again, otherwise I’d like lie there in the dust of my failure to be good enough with no reason to go on.

I believe I can be what grace says I can be--which is Beloved--and from that I will never be the same.

And it is precisely because of Jesus that I believe it.  The gospels are rife with scandalous grace.  Parables and records of loving actions that should make us angry, since the people who receive those loving actions are, for the most part, people of ill repute: prodigals who squander their inheritance on booze and prostitutes, tax collectors (a concept that is so hard for modern folks to connect with), adulterous men and women, the uneducated, the unwashed.  The list is longer than my memory will allow for.

I hope you can find yourself unable to be the same; I hope you can find yourself believing you can be a child of Grace--the Beloved, because that is exactly who you are.