on innocence (lost & found)
Many of the folks who read this know that we have been working through the process of in-state adoption for the last few months. We had our first visit with our prospective child yesterday. There are a hundred things I could say about this moment, but there was one theme that kept running through my head on a perpetual loop.
Without violating a whole lot of state rules, let's suffice it to say that the child in question is in state custody, which means he encountered some pretty rough things. What struck me is how amazingly innocent this kid was. Sure, the child is capable of any number of things--lying, stealing, not sharing, not listening, the list goes on. The die-hard theological sensibilities in me tell me that this child is a sinner and was born into it whether they wanted to be or not.
After all, I was raised to believe that "my sin was always before me" and the guilt of that thought alone was (and still is) enough to send me into the abyss of despair (which is somewhere past the Slough of Despond , I'm convinced). Any life occurrence that went anything other than how I'd planned it was instantly, subconsciously connected to sin, be it of omission or commission.
Of course, then there's the matchless grace of Jesus (deeper than the mighty rolling sea...). This grace, I was told, makes all those filthy rags magically turn white. I am, per Paul and the witness of Scripture, a new creation--transformed as it were, from depraved sinner to redeemed saint.
In terms of the living of Christian life, it was painted that life is more or less a struggle between these two opposing forces, best represented in Luther's famous statement simul justus et peccator--"at the same time sinner and saint."
I freely admit, at the ripe old age of 30, I now tend to lean on the side of "grace for once and for all." My self-flagellating desires are gone--I have to embrace a Love that had been embracing me while I squalled about my prodigal nature. Which brings me back to this potential new addition to our family.
He did nothing to deserve the treatment he has yet endured. It is tempting to paint those responsible for his care as inhumane people who are somehow beyond redemption, but that misses the point. There are any number of factors that predisposed them to making bad situations worse, be it the endless cycle of poverty and abuse or the economic isolation of the rural South. More than that, if I am innocent, then I must confess under Christ, that they too, are innocent.
Most of us speak of innocence in virginal terms--something that cannot be regained once lost. All the while the story of redemption is born in every flower shooting forth in Spring, every child embraced, every life transformed by a grace that rejects all attempts to deny it's very existence.
To identify ourselves only, or indeed primarily, as "sinners saved by grace" is to only tell half of the story.
To say that we are,
that we have been,
that we will perpetually be
innocent.
And that is very, very good news.
Innocent (American Idol Studio Version) by David Cook
