A five-year-old child bangs his head on the wall, screams, and wails to the depth of his soul. He rages against his siblings, and his parents, especially his mother. He enjoys destroying things that he knows are special to his family especially family-oriented celebrations like birthdays or Christmas and even routine things like dinner together become a time to dread. As he gets older his hate for his family grows and he tells them during dinner one night his joy would be to break up the family by having his parents get a divorce.
What did this family do to this poor child? They adopted him.
Ever since he could remember this child had to fend for himself, every thunderstorm, every cut, scrape, sickness, or bully encountered – he had to self-soothe, handle his fears, and his hurts alone. There was never any consoling or cradling by a mom or protection from a dad. An infant cries when they are hungry, or wet. Where this child came from, cries went mostly unanswered. Cries turn to wails, wails to rage, then eventually to an eery silence. Silence didn’t mean complacency, but an abandonment of hope that someone, anyone would provide some level of care for him. Hope and love were replaced with an internal rage and a trust in no one. No one other than himself for his care, for his life, for his well-being.
When his adoptive parents came, this child already learned the hard-knock rules of life. He was already 100% self-reliant with a set of survival skills that served him well. Sure, he could see, touch and experience his new beautiful life all around him – a mother, father, and two older siblings who opened their lives and home to him, fully embracing him as a son and brother.
Yet with all the physical “proof”, he could not trust these new experiences, these new people in his life. He could not, would not trust his new family. He would not allow himself to be parented. His survival skills served him well to this point and there was too much risk to change now. Trust – handing over his power, his life to his adoptive parents – meant at best that he would become a slave to these adults – having to do what he was told (for his best interest), at worst there was the potential of death – in his mind anyway. The closer they tried to pull him into the family structure, offer unconditional love, the more he raged.
So, although the adoption occurred on paper, in the courtroom, it never occurred in his heart. Fear drove him to keep his orphan heart, a heart of stone. Trust is the gateway to love. Since he could not trust, he could not give his heart to his parents and then receive their unconditional love that was already his to accept. Instead, he chose a life of internal slavery versus a loving family.
St. Paul talks about our adoption in Christ. We are adopted into the family of God at baptism whether through infant baptism or through a later in life conversion. Yet, like the child in this story, although we have been adopted in Christ, have we fully accepted our adoption into God’s family? It is offered and freely given, but it has to be accepted!
Do we trust God enough to give our hearts to him fully and completely or do we still live wounded, hurt, and unable to trust in God and His plan for us? What do we fear by letting go and completely trusting God to direct our lives? Do we rage at God out of fear of handing our life over to Him?
Listen to the readings at Holy Mass. The message is clear. Over and over you will hear that God loves you. He desires a deep relationship with you. He wants you to love Him and trust Him with your life the same life He willed into existence because of his love for you.
Do a brief examination of your life today – your thoughts, your actions, your words. Are you leading lives, as author Henry David Thoreau wrote, of quiet desperation and will go to the grave with the song still in you?
Are your thoughts, actions, and words that of an orphan or an heir of God?
