Words for Life: Called and Claimed by God - Isaiah 43:1-3; Ephesians 4:1-6

Names matter.  Our names connect us with our families. Our nicknames are often used with affection by our loved ones. When we meet someone for the first time, we ask right away, “What’s your name?” I was reminded just how important names are when I adopted my first dog, shortly after moving to Richmond in September of 2020.  I looked forward to having puppy companion for decades, so I was thrilled when it all worked out.  But there was one hitch.  The dog I adopted was named Ginger by her first owner.  In the early weeks of joining the staff here at Second Pres, we were still sheltering at home, and spending most of our time together on Zoom. I knew it would get confusing at best, and quite possibly troubling for me to attempt to train and teach a puppy who shared a name with two colleagues! With all respect for Ginger Hudson and Ginger Evans, I decided that my dog would be named Scout in my house. Scout has never seemed confused, and I never had a Zoom meeting issue in communicating with my colleagues or my dog. Names make a difference, and today I propose that we all share a common name:  children of God.

 

We will explore our calling as children of God as we begin a summer sermon series titled, Words for Life.  Fred is the catalyst and creator for this series, inviting us to consider how we find new life and meaning in our scriptures. Today, I chose to begin with two favorite passages, that point to who and whose we are.

 

Our first scripture passage, from Isaiah 43, was a touchstone at the church I served in North Carolina.  With every baptism, a felt banner was created that hung on the baptismal font and quoted the first verse, “I have called you by name; you are mine.” These banners were treasured. Freshmen in college would send home pictures of their baptism banner hanging in their new dorm room. Then, when we celebrated high school seniors, they were presented with green fleece blankets with the same verse embroidered, to remind them they were loved by God during ordinary times as well.

 

These words from the prophet Isaiah remind the people during exile that God has been, is, and will be present with them.  The waters will not overtake them; they will not be burned by fire. God’s care and comfort will guide them as children of God. God declares this for all God’s people, later describing how God will gather people from every direction. God claims us and redeems us. Through the grace of God, we are all claimed as God’s very own.

 

Our second scripture passage is written as guidance for the early church to claim their identity as children of God. Hear these words, written to the early church in Ephesus:

 

            I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.

            This is the Word of the Lord.     Thanks be to God.

 

Here, we are instructed how we are to live as children of God. This letter guides us in how we are to live together. We demonstrate we are children of God with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love. Then we are encouraged to live in unity, echoing the passage Terry preached about in his sermon last week. As children of God, our unity as the body of Christ is made clear through one shared body and one Spirit, with one hope of our calling. As I read the scriptures, I believe our unity as children of God is best lived out with radical inclusivity. When all people are considered children of God, then we witness to the extravagant love of a Creator who is above all and through all and in all.  Seeing God’s image reflected in all people leads us appreciate the fullness of God’s love. When we treat other people with dignity and care, we lead a life worthy of the calling to which we have been called, worthy of being children of a loving, merciful God.

 

There is a story from preacher and professor Fred Craddock that demonstrates the significance of being called children of God:

[Craddock] and his wife were on vacation in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. One night in a restaurant, they noticed a distinguished looking, white-haired man visiting with the guests. Craddock whispered to his wife, “I hope he doesn’t come over here.” But sure enough, the man came over to their table.

 “Where you folks from?” he asked in a friendly voice. 

“Oklahoma,” Craddock answered. 

“Splendid state, I hear, although I’ve never been there,” the stranger said. “What do you do for a living?”

“I teach homiletics at the graduate seminary of Phillips University,” Craddock replied. 

“Oh, so you teach preachers how to preach, do you? Well, I’ve got a story to tell you.” And with that, the gentleman pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. 

Dr. Craddock groaned and thought to himself, “Oh, no! Here comes another preacher story! It seems like everybody has at least one.”

The man stuck out his hand. “I’m Ben Hooper,” he said. “I was born not far from here across the mountains. My mother wasn’t married when I was born, so I had a pretty hard time. When I started to school, my classmates had a name for me, and it wasn’t a very nice name. I used to go off by myself at recess and lunch time because the things they said to me cut me so deep. 

“When I was about 12 years old, a new preacher came to our church. I would always go in late and slip out early. But one day the preacher said the benediction so fast I got caught and had to walk out with the crowd. I could feel every eye in the church on me. Just about the time I got to the door I felt a big hand on my shoulder. I looked up and the preacher was looking right at me. ‘Who are you, son? Whose boy are you?’ he asked. I felt this big weight coming down on me. It was like a big black cloud. Even the preacher was putting me down. But as he looked down at me, studying my face, he began to smile a big smile of recognition. ‘Wait a minute!’ he said. ‘I know who you are. I see the family resemblance now. You are a child of God.’ With that he slapped me across the [shoulder] and said, ‘Boy, you’ve got a great inheritance. Go and claim it.’ 

The old man looked across the table at Fred Craddock and said, “Those were the most important words anybody ever said to me, and I’ve never forgotten them.” With that, he smiled, shook hands with Craddock and his wife, and moved on to another table to greet old friends. 

And as he walked away, Craddock — a native Tennessean himself — remembered from his studies of Tennessee history that on two occasions the people of Tennessee had elected to the office of governor men who had been born out of wedlock. One of them was a man named Ben Hooper.[1] 

 

God claims us and calls us by name. Trusting in God’s promises can change our lives. When we see the family resemblance in one another, our hearts change how we live together. Let me say that again: When we see the family resemblance in one another, our hearts change how we live together. Imagine what it would look like to create the beloved community in which everyone is treated as a child of God. What would change in how we treat our neighbors, our extended family, colleagues at work, the people asking for money at the stoplight, and those in line with us in the grocery store? Imagine how our systems of health care, education, housing, justice, politics, and immigration would be different if every decision and policy were based on the premise that we are all children of God.[2] God’s love and profound vision call us to not only imagine such changes, but to create such changes.

 

We are called collectively as children of God.

We are called to claim our great inheritance to be the body of Christ together. 

We are called to share these words for life through the witness of our lives,

with humility, gentleness, patience, and maintaining our unity with all creation through bonds of peace.

We are called and claimed by God to do this holy work together. 

 

Today we gather at the Lord’s table, where we are nurtured for the journey. 

This summer, I hope you will remember that you have been named Child of God.

You are called and claimed to make sure every person you encounter knows they have a great inheritance too.


[1] ‘Whose boy are you?’ Al Earley. The Advocate-Messenger. November 9, 2018. https://www.amnews.com/2018/11/09/whose-boy-are-you/

[2] Adapted from the writing of Rabbi Sharon Brous. The Amen Effect.

Kate Fiedler