Genesis 21:8-21; Psalm 86:1-10, 16-17; Romans 6:1-11; Matthew 10:24-39
The Rev. Candice B. Frazer
My mother owned and operated a dance studio for much of her life. When I was a teenager, I worked as one of her assistant dance instructors. I loved teaching the pre-K classes. The little girls arrived dressed in pink leotards with matching tights and teeny-tiny ballet shoes. Their hair was tied up with ribbons, and those sweet little faces were absolutely adorable. For the most part, they were eager to learn, followed directions well, and were a joy to teach. But every so often, there would be one child who decided to act out and, before long, inspired several others to do the same.
My mother demonstrated the patience of Job in those moments. I never heard her fuss at a little one. Instead, she would begin commenting on the children who were behaving well. “I really like how Sally is sitting so quietly with her legs crossed.” Or, “Thank you, Amy, for staying in your place.” Pretty soon, the little girls who had been running amok would find their own spots and settle down, craving that same encouragement and praise.
Though my mother was a genius at classroom management, she didn’t simply choose praise over reprimand as a behavioral strategy. She saw every little girl who walked into her studio as a beloved child of God. No matter how much someone misbehaved, she never lost sight of the child standing in front of her as one of God’s own.
That was both her starting point and her ending point with every child she ever taught. She always saw them as good, even when they behaved badly.
Starting points matter. The way we relate to others is shaped by how we first perceive them. It may seem easier to recognize God’s image in little children, but the truth is no different for adults. We, too, are beloved children of God before we are anything else.
So often in the Christian world, however, we hear that people are sinners in need of redemption. Paul certainly spends a great deal of time talking about sin. In the portion of Romans we read this morning, he uses the word “sin” seven times, linking it with death. Throughout the entire letter he uses the word nearly fifty times, and it appears frequently throughout his other writings as well. Paul was deeply concerned with sin, which may explain why Christians often become so focused on it. But even Paul did not believe our deepest identity rested in our sinfulness.
For Paul, baptism changes everything. He understood baptism as a death to sin and a rising to new life in Christ. To understand what Paul means by sin, we first have to understand what he means by baptism.
Baptism is far more than a fresh start. It is a complete reorientation of our lives around God. Before baptism, Paul says, we live with ourselves at the center of the story. Our decisions are shaped primarily by our own desires, our own ambitions, even our concern for family and community. A person could be kind, generous, and outwardly moral and still remain separated from Christ—not because they were especially wicked, but because they had not yet discovered their deepest identity as one of God’s beloved. For Paul, sin is ultimately separation from Christ. In baptism, we are joined to Christ and marked as “Christ’s own forever.”
That distinction may sound subtle, but it changes everything because it changes our starting point. When we begin with the knowledge that we are beloved children of God, we hear God’s call differently than if we begin with the assumption that we are primarily sinners in need of redemption. If our starting point is sin, our attention naturally settles on guilt and shame, judgment and fear. We assume we are failures before we have even begun. We meet God first as judge before we know God as the One who loves us unconditionally. Our primary spiritual question becomes, “How can I be saved?” We become oriented toward some future destination, wondering whether we have done enough to make it into heaven, and we spend our lives trying to become worthy of a love that has already been given.
But if our starting point is belovedness, then the first truth about humanity is not the Fall but creation. Before sin enters the story, God creates humanity in God’s own image and declares his creation to be “very good.” Jesus’ own baptism follows this same pattern. Before he performs a miracle, preaches a sermon, or goes to the cross, God declares, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.”
Belovedness comes before ministry.
Belovedness comes before accomplishment.
Belovedness even comes before sin or redemption or sacrifice.
Our own baptism reclaims that same beloved identity. Our deepest spiritual question is no longer, “How can I be saved?” but, “Who am I?” The answer is beautifully simple. We are God’s beloved children.
That does not mean we will never fall short. Sin is real. Repentance is necessary. Redemption is essential. These are not prerequisites for earning God’s love. They are responses to a relationship that already exists. Instead of obeying God so that God will love us, we obey because we know we are already loved. Instead of trying to prove our faith or secure our salvation, we trust who God has made us to be and spend our lives growing into that identity.
When belovedness becomes our starting point rather than our sinfulness, repentance itself begins to look different. Instead of beating ourselves up for disappointing God, repentance is about returning to who we truly are. It is about remembering our identity in Christ. The goal of the Christian life is not simply escaping hell. Coming to church is not spiritual fire insurance. The goal of the Christian life is union with God.
As the Church, our calling is to help people discover who they already are in God and become more fully alive in Christ. We proclaim forgiveness, certainly. But even more, we proclaim restoration. We invite people into the life of the God who calls them beloved.
In some small way, that is what my mother did with every little girl who entered her dance studio. She never saw a behavior problem. She saw a child full of life and light because that child had been created by God, loved by God, and declared by God to be very good. And that is how God sees each and every one of us.
Amen