“We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies” (Rom. 8:22-23). I now realize I’ve been mistaken about just who was doing the groaning about the adoption.
Up until today, I had thought it was the one waiting to be adopted, the adoptee, and I will admit that is what Paul seems to say. I don’t think that makes much sense, though. Groaning, as Paul notes, is a consequence of labor pains, the act of giving birth. The groaning is not done by the one being born. It must be the same with adoption. The groaning is done by the prospective adoptive parents, not by the child to be adopted, at least within the limits of the metaphor.
Having adopted two sons, adoption is something I know a little bit about. And now that I think about it, those months before the adoption were filled with groaning, not groaning in the sense of a response to pain, but groaning in the sense of anxiousness and excitement. That I remember distinctly.
I remember distinctly Ginger coming to tell me after her final appointment with our social worker that a baby boy in Korea had been placed with us. I met that news, much to my surprise, with uncontrollable tears of joy. I couldn’t make them stop no matter what I did. I’d start to get myself under control, but when I would try to talk, the tears came flooding back. It was my way of groaning.
I remember distinctly when we left to go pick up our son in Seoul. It was just about a week after a horrible air disaster in which a Korean Airlines Flight 007, flying from the United States, was shot down by a Russian fighter jet. Ginger, who is nervous about flying under the most tranquil circumstances, was more than a little concerned about this flight. But going to get a baby was a pretty big deal. So she went, but her anxiety response was to go to sleep the minute she boarded the plane. Immediately. She woke up in Seoul. It was a form of groaning while waiting for adoption. My groaning came from being consequently blocked from getting to the aisle.
And now it makes sense to me. It is wrong to think of the one to be adopted doing the
groaning. It isn’t like the baby is anxious to be adopted. The baby is blissfully indifferent. Older children may be different, but the principle is the same. It isn’t the child being adopted who is redeemed; it is the parents. The groaning of adopting our boys belonged to Ginger and me. That’s why there were tears of joy. That’s what makes someone afraid of flying have what it takes to get on a plane despite what is perceived as grave danger.
Sure, a child ended up with a home, and that’s certainly good, but adoption is not some altruistic action to solve a social problem. The point is not that we did a good deed. It’s that we were given a family.
And that’s why I think it’s important to think of these verses from Romans differently than I have up until now. We are the adoptee, not the adopter. God is the adopter through creation. God does the groaning, not because redemption is some altruistic action God does to help us out. God is doing the groaning because the adoption gives an object for God’s love. We are that object, and as such, we are the very completion of God’s love. The groaning comes from God’s heart, God’s yearning to love us. That’s what adoption is.
Agape,
Bishop Stacy Sauls
Founder and President
Love Must Act