After three and a half hours in flight from Moscow to Frankfurt and a four-hour layover, we finally began the last leg of our journey home. Ten and a half hours later, we landed—exhausted—in Denver.
Our newly adopted son became a U.S. citizen the moment the 747 wheels skidded down on the runway. The paperwork in the Immigration Office just inside the airport made it official.
But truly becoming a part of our family and our community (and country!) required more than paperwork. It also required more than the perfunctory provision of a roof, clothing, food, and medical care. Though we supplied all of those and more. Each of us learned—through our (sometimes complicated) interactions—how to be a family. In other words, we learned it relationally.
The notion of relationship is central to our faith, as well. I often hear variations of the refrain that Christianity is more about “relationship than religion.” The intention of the phrase is to free us from getting overwhelmed with the rules that require more from us than God does—rules that prescribe behaviors as requirements to fulfill before He would have a relationship with us.
In many ways the statement is a helpful corrective to how stagnant religion can become. “Relationship and not religion” helps us to remember the lengths to which God went to bring us back to himself—that it is Jesus’ sacrificial death that provides us unfettered access to God and offers the possibility of restoring us to a right relationship with Him. We couldn’t have that relationship without Him to escort us into the throne room any more than my son could have secured his own passage to Denver (and into our family). And yet I fear the notion eclipses a rich part of our legacy as followers of Christ. That it overlooks the value of “religion” as a means to understand who we are as part of God’s family.
In the months and years following his adoption, my son experienced what it meant to be a Holmberg. He learned it—just as my biological daughters did—through our ongoing practice of being a family: our conversations, our reading the Bible and other books together, our dinners encircling the rough-worn-smooth table and, yes, even through our rules and conflicts. One might say he learned it by experiencing our family traditions, rituals, and routines.
Our understanding of who we are as God’s adopted children and citizens of His kingdom is shaped similarly. Though there is a moment when the 747 wheels skid down on the runway of faith and we become part of the family, we only learn what that means by participating in it. We learn how to be part of that family through the ongoing practice of being a family: by feasting together on His Word regularly, by giving to one another and gracefully receiving, by talking and listening and praying together, by honoring the authority of the Word and respecting those He’s appointed to lead the church, and by charitably pursuing relationship despite the difficult situations that arise.
These so-called rituals are, essentially, our rights and responsibilities as citizens of God’s glorious kingdom—as members of His family. They are the means by which we learn about Him, the body of Christ He’s made us part of, and who we are in His sight—truths we will carry into eternity.
One could perceive these rituals as “religious” and feel burdened by them, I suppose. But I’m not sure my son would have felt connected to us if he hadn’t pulled up his chair to share dinner each night. Or if he hadn’t recounted his day while we ate, then listen to his sisters’ renditions. Sure, he’s got paperwork that says he’s a U.S. citizen and he shares our last name . . . but he would have missed out on the richness of truly being part of our family if he hadn’t.
It might be difficult to engage with our family of faith if we’ve been gone for a while (or have never been), but it’s worth it. The night my son returned home from his first semester in college, he plopped down at the table for dinner. He looked around at each of us encircling it with him and grinned, “I’ve missed this.” We had too.
If we simply carry around the name “Christian” without ever sharing in the family experiences, we’re robbing ourselves—and the rest of the body—of the richness God intends for us to enjoy as His children.
–Written by Kirsten Holmberg. Used by permission from the author.
4 Responses
I agree with Betsy Hall. My son was raised in a Christian home and he has gone astray. But the Word says " Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it." Proverbs 22:6. We have to keep our young men in prayer all the time. satan will not win. In Jesus’s Name
Hallelujah we as Christians are one family. The good bad and different one love in Christ. We are brothers and sisters in Christ and we are to share the Gospel the good news of Jesus Christ our Beloved Lord and Savior who created us all.
Oh, so true!!! I was raised in a Christian home–as you said -not perfect, but still in Christ. No adoption, but loved and cared for. Now my sons are grown and have not gone in the way they were raised nor in their professions of faith. They are in the hands of our loving God and I pray for them continuously.
Their roots are deep. God I pray will return them to Himself and satan will lose the battle.
Beautifully spoken!