Because if you have any doubt that there is such a thing as “original sin”, meaning that humans don’t have to learn how to sin, it’s just a built in function of our humanity to have this natural bent towards self-centeredness, an innate drive for self-preservation at all costs to the other, if you have any doubt about “original sin”, all you have to do is have a baby. And that’ll clear it up real quick.

I’m pretty much convinced now that if it were not for the witness of Christ’s Church, we wouldn’t give a second thought about God or our neighbor.  You don’t believe me?  You think babies are only sugar and spice and everything nice?

What convinced me was watching my six month old son at a play date with another six month old.  Moses was clear on the opposite side of the room playing happily by himself, when he turned to see that this other little baby was reaching towards a yellow ducky.  Instantly, Moses dropped his toy

and speed crawled across the room, with one hand he snatched the yellow ducky from the child’s finger tips, while with the other hand on the child’s head he pushed himself to his feet and proceeded to wave the yellow ducky over his head in triumph…. You little destroyer.

That’s when I realized, “The only reason why babies are so cute is because they are powerless.  If Babies actually had any real power to carry out their evil plans for world domination we would be doomed.  It would be a global pandemic.  Giant babies would be destroying homes and nations and whole continents.”

But here’s the scary thing.  We only get better at destroying as we get older.  And we get better skilled in disguising the way we snatch the yellow ducky.  At our core, we are giant-destructive-babies.

But what I love about babies is that they’re honest about it.  They are the most genuine, the most earnest people that I know.  And really, they can’t help it.  They haven’t developed the filters and disguises that we have.  They have yet to make the adult realization, “Wait a second.  Pretending to play nice might get me what I want.”

I wish I was honest about my sin as those baby-destroyers.  I wish we were all as transparent as babies are, Because also at our core, we desperately want to be seen for all of who we are.  And confession is how we do that.  As much as we might cringe at the word, repentance is what we want most.  The poet Ranier Marie Rilke makes his confession like this,

“With my half-mouth I stammer you,

who are eternal in your symmetry.

I lift to you my half-hands

in wordless beseeching, that I may find again

the eyes with which I once beheld you….

It’s here in all the pieces of my shame

that now I find myself again.

I yearn to belong to something, to be contained

in an all-embracing mind that sees me

as a single thing.

I yearn to be held

in the great hands of your heart–

oh let them take me now.”

That’s what we want.  Not to be compartmentalized in a hundred hidden pieces, but to be held in the safety of God’s hands as one thing.  Given all of my son’s self-centeredness, I absolutely adore this little guy more than I’ve adored anything in my life.  How is that possible that I am so in love with this little destroyer?

Without a doubt, that is the love that God holds us with.  And that’s the environment that God is creating in the Church.  God wants to make the church a safe place to not be right, a place where being right is not the requirement, it’s not what’s most important, because what’s most important is the grace of Jesus.  God wants to make the church a safe place to confess, where being loved and accepted is a given, it’s off the table, it’s no longer questioned.  God wants to make a safe place for us to confess: “I am not all that I pretend to be…”

A safe place to confess: “My marriage is in ruins and right now I can’t even imagine how it could be turned around…”

A safe place to confess: “I have sinned in thought, word and deed, by what I have done and what I have left undone…”

When you think about it, just about every other place in life you have to be right, you have to have it figured out, you have to justify your existence, by creating a reason for why your job should keep you around, why your friends should invite you out next weekend, why your family should do anything more than what’s obligatory.  Just about every other place in life the consequences for not being right,

is being shamed, being an outcast, being alone.

But in this place, the Word of God comes to you that says, “You are loved first and without conditions.  You are free to be wrong, because my relationship to you is not negotiable, and it’s not dependent on you being right.  It will not be taken away from you as a punishment for not having it figured out.”

My new friend Seth from our Sister Church House for All Sinners and Saints in Denver says it this way:  “I walk through the world constantly defending my right to be in the world & in the church at all …. the relief for me when I walk into House [...for All] every Sunday at 5pm is that I get to be wrong – that I get to not have all the answers – that I get to talk about how I am complicit in those injustices hourly – that I get to be called to a different standard: one that is not about how right or just I can be, but one that is about how much I am loved.”

This Advent, here’s how you can prepare for when God comes close: receive these words of John the Baptist, “Repent” in a new way – in the context of safety. Because when God comes close it’s now safe to confess. When God comes close you are seen for all that you are, and you are loved.  You are utterly loved. When God comes close the question, “Who shall stand the day of his appearing?” is answered with the angelic words, “Don’t be afraid.  I’ve got good news for everyone.”

* Special thanks to Seth and her words from #c21, by which this blog was inspired (meaning I totally ripped her off).  You can read her blog here.

Maybe for their excesses of warmth or coldness, for pushing or leaning, for shutting doors, for speaking only through layers of cloth or never speaking or never being silent

Lord, have mercy

God, we trust in your ability to redeem anything, anyone, any father and any father-wound.

Thank you for the fathers that you have given us and for the gifts of your goodness you given us through them.

For the miracle that fathers bring their paycheck home or come home at all

Lord, we are so grateful

For the miracle of fathers who are present with their children,

loving them with strength, but not too much strength

and tenderness, but not too much tenderness

Lord, we are so grateful

For all those who have given us a taste of good fathering

birth fathers, adopted fathers, borrowed father and fathers for a season

Lord, we are so grateful

In our age or in theirs or in their deaths

Lord, may we thank our fathers

Saying it to them or not saying it

Lord, may we thank our fathers

Amen

Gospel Reading – “The Extravagant Father” – Luke 15

Eucharistic Narrative based on Luke 15

Seeing you a long ways off, God is filled with compassion. God runs to meet you here, catches you in an embrace and kisses you, and kisses you. We try to confess:

Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worth being called your child.

But it’s no use. God has already forgiven you before you could even speak the words and a homecoming celebration has begun. This is the feast that shows us the fathering heart of God.

Here, Jesus breaks bread and says, “Remember, this is the gift of myself. I’m giving myself for you.”

And here Jesus takes wine and says, “Remember, this is the gift of relationship. You are forgiven. My connection to my Father is now your connection to my Father.”

And here you will receive the acceptance, the attention, the guidance, and the freedom that you desired from your earthly father. Come and find it met here in the embrace of God given to you in bread and wine. Welcome home.