Indescribable

Usually, I try to reflect on what I've done during the week in this blog. And this week was actually a rather busy one in terms of how I participated: baptism, affirmation of baptism for the congregation, teaching Sunday school and Confirmation, etc. But the most powerful moment of the whole week was during the sermon in the second service. No, it's not because I wasn't paying attention the first time, I promise.

Yesterday we celebrated the Baptism of our Lord. As it sounds, it's a day to commemorate Jesus' baptism. As part of the service, we also did a corporate affirmation of baptism. This includes renouncing the devil, the evil powers of the world, etc., and affirming our faith by saying the Apostle's Creed. This part of the service is something Linda has been doing each year since she arrived at St. Mark, and it was an interesting and powerful way to commemorate the day.

Prior to remembering and affirming our own baptism was Linda's sermon. During the first service, I had been interested in the sermon and what Linda was saying, as it was not so loosely related to my own sermon last week. The point of the sermon was that, as God called Jesus "my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased," through baptism God accepts and claims us as God's own children. The idea of being adopted by God has been really important to my personal theology recently, especially as Wes and I discuss adoption. This whole personal attachment to the amazing idea of being adopted by God started when my wonderful mother suggested I watch the music video for Third Day's song "Children of God." Go on, take a break to watch it.

So there I sat, thinking about and listening to Linda's sermon, my personal ideas about adoption by God, etc. etc. And (for the second time), Linda ended the sermon by asking us all to make the sign of the cross on our neighbor's head, while saying something along the lines of, "You are God's child, the beloved." Since Linda and I are neighbors during the service, we did this for one another. It was definitely a powerful experience to hear those words, recognizing that, as Linda said, God is a "well-pleased parent. Period."

After the sermon, we always have a minute or so to reflect on the sermon before we go into the hymn of the day. I spent that whole time practically in tears, amazed at the power of being accepted as "beloved" by God. I don't know why it hit me harder during the second service. I don't know why that reflection led me to being able to say "yes, God" anew. But during that time after the sermon, and throughout the hymn of the day, I was saying a silent prayer of thanks, praise, and release. I know that, over the next days and months, that feeling of "let go and let God" will diminish, and I'll have to remember the time when I, once again, freely gave my life and its path over to God. I know that there will be times when life won't go the way I have it planned. I will wonder what God thinks God is doing with my life. But hopefully I'll remember yesterday, and the overwhelming feeling of peace involved in handing over the reins to the one who knows what is best, the one who willingly adopted me in my broken, unworthy state, the one who loves and guides me through it all.