Proper 14C

I have completed three triathlons, two sprints and one olympic.

I have completed countless 5K's, one 10K, one 15K, 

and I'm looking forward to a half marathon next Sunday.

I've biked 100 miles in a day, I've biked 150 miles in a weekend, 

I've biked more than a thousand miles already this year alone.

Yet, when I was at the EQHR conference in May in Georgia,

a conference at which I was the only one who exercised during the week,

someone asked me what it was like to be athletic

and my first response, my immediate response, my gut response was

"Oh, I'm not athletic."

I did my first triathlon more than five years ago,

I've been running, biking, swimming, running, biking, and swimming intently

for more than five years

and I still do not feel comfortable claiming the identity of "triathlete."

Unfortunately in my head,

from my years of being an overweight high school student 

who couldn't run a mile no matter how long you gave her

my default physical identity is still, fat girl.

Its not true,

but boy, how those lies linger.

What identities do you claim?

Raise your hand

Mother? Father? Brother? Sister? Twin? Spouse?

Grandparent? 

Aunt? Uncle?

Doctor? Mechanic? Teacher? Lawyer? Retired?

Athlete? Triathlete? (meekly put up hand)

Neighbor? Handyman? Friend? 

Child of God?

Yeah, every single one of us could jump up and claim that one,

but it seems so hard.

How long do you have to be a Christian to name yourself a child of God?

Thankfully, naming myself as a child of God

doesn't mean anyone else isn't a child of God.

Thankfully, God has enough love

for all seven billion of us children.

Indeed, claiming the identity of child of God

is truly the only way we can authentically live out the calling of Jesus.

One of the strongest images in the gospel stories for Jesus and his followers 

is the Good Shepherd and his flock.

Even the passage today from Luke, 

which is before either of the sheep parables in the gospel of Luke

Jesus calls his disciples "little flock."

Its definitely a nickname which comes from a place of caring. 

Jesus as the Good shepherd cares for his sheep, all those in his care. 

Twice in the opening line of our gospel passage 

Jesus names the identity of his followers for them.

First, he names them "little flock",

he names them his sheep

and second, he names them as God's children

he says, "it is your Father's good pleasure"

if their father is God, then they are God's children.

Twice named, he has definitely claimed them.

They have an identity grounded not in what they have

not in what they do, 

anyway, Jesus tells them they are no longer fishermen or tax collectors or carpenters,

they are his flock, 

they are his sheep

they are God's children.

Only grounded in this identity

can they manage to do what Jesus is calling them to do.

As fishermen or tax collectors or carpenters

they can't sell all their possessions, 

they can't put all their treasures in heaven,

because they would need certain things to be those things,

they would living into a different reality.

However, as God's children,

they can give up everything, 

trusting that God will provide for them.

As God's children, they can reach out to strangers

they can care for the lonely, the sick, the poor, the hungry,

because they don't need to build up their own image

their status in the community.

They have a grounding and an identity no one can take from them

an identity better than any other identity ever created. 

As God's children

they know to be prepared for God,

especially at unexpected times and in unexpected places,

of course we see in the gospel stories, they aren't great about living this one out...

but they try.

As Jesus' followers, as Christians in the world today,

we are Jesus' little flock, we are God's children today.

As we saw earlier,

it can be a hard identity to claim.

When I was about to graduate seminary,

my classmates and I were getting excited about moving out into the world 

to finally go out and do what we had been learning to do.

Many of my seminary buddies were excited about getting their first calls

and getting to claim being the title of Rector, 

especially for those email tags,

you know, at the bottom of emails where you can put all your credentials

your business information and so on.

All of a sudden

a bunch of new priests, called to share Jesus in the world, 

were pushing their new status symbols in their new titles.

Forgetting the only identity they needed 

was one they already had.

If you think about it theologically,

it seems silly to claim any other identity

than child of God,

because it is the only true identity.

It gives us everything we could ever need 

in terms of power or control.

All of our other identities

come and go.

I wasn't a triathlete in my teens, and perhaps someday I'll have to stop being a triathlete.

All of us have working or volunteering identities,

all of which we grow out of when we retire or stop doing.

I know there are some professions and groups which say,

once a ..., always a ....

But at our core, our identity is not what we do or what we did,

it is who we are and whose we are,

and we are God's beloveds.

Only out of our identities as children of God

can we do all the things Jesus tells us to do.

As God's children we can let go of our possessions,

trusting in God to help us through.

As God's children we can build up relationships,

we can care for those in need, 

we can care for immigrants, the hungry, the sick, the lonely.

As God's children we can create community 

and serve others, perhaps even those who previously served us.

As God's children we can prepare ourselves

and wait patiently and faithfully for Jesus,

knowing that God will enter our lives again.

I have wondered many times, when will I feel comfortable claiming the identity of triathlete?

What only truly matters is when I roust the lie living in my head.

What we should ponder right now is:

When will the people of God feel comfortable claiming the identity of children of God?

When will we live into that identity

knowing it is the only one to truly matter?

Sometimes we come to the realization of the truth through contemplation,

sometimes through something happening to us, an action or situation,

sometimes it takes time and sometimes it happens suddenly.

The Christian author Max Lucado has a story about identity and truly knowing whose you are.

The story is called the Wemmicks. 

In it is a craftsman named Eli

and the village of wooden people, the Wemmicks, he has created.

The Wemmicks go around everyday giving each other stars and dots.

Stars for good things 

dots for bad things.

One of the Wemmicks is upset because all he gets are dots.

He has dots because he is klutzy. He has dots because he is ugly. 

He has dots because he isn't well dressed. 

And he wants to know how to get some stars,

or at least, get rid of all the dots!

Then one day he meets a Wemmick who doesn't have any stickers.

In fact, both stars and dots fall right off of her, they don't stick!

He is amazed and asks her how she does it.

She says, I go to see Eli every day.

Eli? The maker? He is stunned and afraid.

But he is so desperate to get rid of his dots, he is willing to try it.

He walks up the hill to the workshop

and timidly walks through to find Eli.

Eli is so happy to see him and is delighted to talk to him.

Eli tells him how much he loves him and how happy he makes him.

The Wemmick isn't sure how this will help him take off the dots,

but when he goes to leave he realizes Eli really means what he says.

And one of the dots fell off of him. 

We gather here together as the church,

people gathered in unity and diversity

we are gathered as the church

[even outside of the building,

because the church is not the building,]

as the community of the children of God.

Who are we?

We are children of God.

Jesus' sheep

Jesus' followers

Jesus' disciples.

Who are we?

Children of God.

Amen.