Not Orphans--At Any Age (Easter 6.B)

For almost twenty years I’ve been thinking about something I heard at a funeral. The eulogist, the daughter of the deceased woman, looked up at the congregation and asked, “Can I be called an orphan at 62?”

Now I know the answer to her question, since both my parents have died, and I’m in my sixties.

And the answer is no.

The answer is no, and it has nothing to do with the dictionary definition of ‘orphan.’

The reason that I am not an orphan and that you are not an orphan is simple: Jesus made us a promise. We heard it a few moments ago in the Gospel: “I will not leave you orphaned.”

If we are walking around feeling like abandoned infants, it’s because we’re not convinced he keeps his promises. Or perhaps we’re not letting the Lord keep this promise.

There’s even a name for this—the orphan spirit. One Protestant writer calls this “a spirit whose chief joy is to separate children from their Father.”

How and why do we define ourselves as orphans instead of children of God?

I can think of three reasons. The first is that we don’t know we are children of God. We’ve never really listened to what the Word of God says about each of us. We’ve heard the words, perhaps, but never applied them to ourselves personally.

Listen to what St. Paul says in the Letter to the Romans: “… all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption.”

At the very beginning of St. John’s Gospel, we hear “to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God.”

In his first letter, St. John leaves us in no doubt about this. He writes: “Beloved, we are God’s children now.”

But even if we know what Scripture clearly says, we may not understand what it means. That’s the second reason for the orphan spirit. We don’t experience the Father’s love.

There’s the second reason we fall back on the orphan spirit in our disappointment. We don’t feel we are children of God. see any evidence that Jesus is keeping his promise. Here we need to zoom out and look at what the Lord says just before “I will not leave you orphans.” That’s the key to knowing what he means by these words.

“I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth…” Although Jesus will return to the orphaned disciples when he rises from the dead, he will leave them again when he ascends to Heaven. So he promises his perpetual presence not in bodily form, but through the gift of the Spirit he will send at Pentecost.

Next week, when we celebrate the Ascension, we’ll hear the words of Jesus recorded in the Acts of the Apostles. He orders them not to leave Jerusalem “but to wait there for the promise of the Father”—the Holy Spirit.  “For John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.”

There are different understandings of what is meant today by baptism in the Holy Spirit, which is particularly emphasized within the Catholic charismatic renewal movement. But all can agree that it is one way the Lord fulfills the promise he makes today and elsewhere in John’s Gospel.

Baptism in the Holy Spirit is not a sacrament but rather a conscious decision to allow the power given us in baptism and confirmation to make a profound difference in us.

Bishop Barron, for instance, says “To be baptized in the Holy Spirit is to be immersed in the ocean of the divine love.”

Whatever the precise meaning of the term, we can conclude that accepting the gift of the Spirit of God as something living and active in our hearts is an antidote to the orphan spirit. When the prophet Isaiah asks “Can a woman forget her nursing child?” the answer comes immediately from the Lord “Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.”

The absence of parents makes orphans feel forgotten. But God who dwells in us is never absent. His indwelling presence through the Holy Spirit proves we are never abandoned or forsaken.

The third reason we can feel like orphans is that we don't find a family in the Church or haven't gone looking for one there. Yet we not only have a loving Parent present to us through the Holy Spirit, we have a family as well in Christ's Church.

Of course, as my good friend Father Galvon likes to say, it’s a messy family. Sometimes we embrace the orphan spirit in our disappointment over the shortcomings of Church leaders or our fellow parishioners. We figure no family is better than this family, and we choose to go it alone.

But that’s not God’s plan. Community is opposed to the orphan spirit just as family is. One reason I have not felt orphaned by the recent death of my mother is the presence of my brothers and sisters. They remind me of my parents and provide a continued connection to them.

The more we remind others of the Father's love the more we can help them avoid feeling like orphans. If we’re adopted children of the Father, we should try to look like him.

One father told me that his teenage daughter looks so much like him that she can unlock his iPhone using face recognition! Although obviously they don’t look exactly alike, they’re similar in the attributes that the software uses.

We’d be much less likely to feel alone and abandoned by God if more Christians resembled God in his loving parental concern for all his children.

Finally, let’s consider how important it is for children to gather around the table with the family. Nothing says “I’m feeling like an orphan” than refusing to take part in big family events. If you’re watching this live stream, you’re already acting like a member of the household of God. But at this difficult time, perhaps you might consider getting a bit closer to the other members of the parish family by joining us for one additional activity this week.

They’re all listed in the bulletin—and if I can leave you with this, the weekly bulletin matters more than ever during these days. Even in this era of YouTube and podcasts, the printed word is important. It’s sad that no one writes letters anymore—my mother kept all the letters I wrote from the seminary, and just the other day, Bishop David Monroe gave me back the ones I’d written him.

I have to say I’d have been quite choked if any of these letters were still unopened in their envelopes!

Please read the bulletin—it’s a letter that can help us wait patiently for the family reunion we hope to celebrate soon.

But in the meantime, let’s take hold of the promise of Christ, refusing to think like orphans and preparing for a fresh experience of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, just two weeks from now.