Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress. James 1:27
I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. John 14:18
But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.” So you are no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir. Gal. 4:4-7
Lord Jesus, today has been designated “Orphan Sunday” by many of your followers—a day set aside to remember, pray and consider how we can care for the tens of millions of orphans in our world—children without homes and with very little hope. By of your great love for us in the gospel, we are set free to care about the things you care about, delight in your delights, and make your kingdom priorities ours. Clearly, that includes “caring for orphans and widows in their distress”.
So how can I remain indifferent to so much need? Why don’t I care more about orphans and other broken stories crying for your mercy and grace? What causes my heart to shrink and withdraw into a life of self-protection, trivial preoccupations and small dreams?
Reading and praying through these Scriptures this morning, it’s pretty obvious. There are moments, days, even much longer stretches when I think, feel, and act as though I’m an orphan—as though I don’t really have a heavenly Father who deeply loves me and is involved in every detail of my life.
When I get sucked back into this downward spiral, my spirit shrinks and my fears enlarge. My peace says, “Bye-bye,” and my “need” to control my world gets a steroid boost from my selfishness. Instead of the aroma of the gospel, I start exuding the smell of a waif. Instead of helping others with the resources you’ve entrusted to me, I hoard them for myself. Indeed, instead of caring for orphans, I start acting like I’m the fatherless child.
But Jesus, you haven’t left me as an orphan. You live in my heart by the gift of the Holy Spirit—the Spirit of adoption—the very Spirit by which I now cry, “Abba, Father!” You never have and you never will abandon me. Right now, I abandon myself to you and to the riches of the gospel. With palms up, I offer you praise and adoration. With palms up, I release my tight grip on the things I foolishly call mine. I have nothing that I haven’t received from you. No longer a slave to sin and death, free me to live as a beloved son and generous heir. So very Amen I pray in your holy and loving name.