Luke 1:46b-55, Advent 3 A, December 15, 2013
Grace
and peace be unto you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus
Christ, Amen.
I
recently listened to the NPR program This American Life. The episode was
appropriately named, “Unconditional Love,” and one segment was called, “Love is
a Battlefield.” The reporter told the story of a mother who helped her adopted
son overcome his attachment disorder. In many ways, this mother’s love for her
son is like God’s love for us.
Heidi
and Rick Solomon were fairly ordinary Jewish Americans before Daniel came into
their life. When they were ready to have children, they decided to adopt.
During the process, they saw a picture of Daniel in an adoption catalogue. For
some reason, this picture among the hundred other orphans pictured stood out to
them.
So,
they flew to Romania to take Daniel home. They saw the terrible condition in
which Daniel had lived his first seven and a half years. Daniel shared a crib
with another boy even though he hadn’t been a baby for such a long time. There
were a hundred or more orphans in one room, all sharing cribs. These children
had no education, no playtime, or any other interaction. They were forced to
stay in their cribs except to eat and use the bathroom.
Daniel
seemed happy at first, but the years of isolation and neglect had taken its
toll. For his first six months in America, Daniel was ok. He certainly had his
fair share of tantrums, but they always led to progress. Heidi and Rick enjoyed
teaching Daniel English and about American culture.
Then
March came and brought his eighth birthday. Then Daniel had an existential
crisis. He didn’t know what a birthday was or why he had never had one before.
This was the first time that he considered that he had another set of parents
that had given him up. In fact, it took him a long time to comprehend the
difference between biological and adoptive parents. Daniel blamed Heidi and
Rick for the terrible life that he had in Romania. Even after he knew it wasn’t
their fault, his anger remained.
Anger
is an understatement. Daniel was filled with rage. He was destructive, punching
holes in the walls of his bedroom. All of his furniture had to be taken away,
leaving him with just a mattress. All of the specialists who tried to help him
left the house injured and bleeding. Heidi called the cops regularly when she
was afraid of Daniel’s vicious outbursts. She even hired a guard for her house
– a bodyguard to protect her against her eight-year-old son.
For
some time, there seemed to be no way out. Their family and all their doctors
encouraged them to institutionalize Daniel. Rick even considered leaving Heidi,
but Heidi could not give up on Daniel. She knew that there must be a way. She
loved Daniel even when he threatened her life.
They
lived like this for two years. Daniel was shuffled between doctors and
psychiatrists, none of them providing a viable solution. Then, when Daniel was
ten, he was diagnosed with attachment disorder. He was unable to connect with
others, unable to form relationships or feel empathy. Daniel had no conscience,
meaning that he could hurt others without feeling guilt. Daniel was dangerous,
and the possible therapy was highly controversial.
When
Daniel was a baby, he never made a connection with a mother. He was never cuddled;
no adult stared lovingly into his eyes. He never felt loved. The intensive
therapy recreated this. For eight weeks, Heidi always stayed within three feet of
Daniel.
They
did everything together, repeating simple tasks until Daniel did it properly.
They had to make a lot of eye contact, with each task and every time they
talked. Daniel couldn’t ask for anything. Like a baby, Daniel had to trust that
Heidi would provide for his every need. Instead of having time outs, Daniel’s
“punishment” for misbehaving was “time-ins”: extended periods of hugging and
cuddling.
As
expected, Daniel did not like this treatment. He resisted it as much as he
could. For the first three weeks, he regressed. Then something clicked. He
finally understood that this crazy hugging-eye contact making-always around
woman loved him. He finally, after ten years, discovered what love is.
Life
wasn’t perfect after that therapy. Daniel still acted out, but he wasn’t
dangerous anymore. In May of 2006, he was given a special award at his synagogue
and was able to give a speech. He took this opportunity to express his
gratitude to his parents for never giving up on him.
At
the end of the interview, the reporter asked Heidi, “Do you think you are loved
by Daniel?” Heidi responded, “I don’t think he wants to hurt me. I don’t worry
about that at all.” That may not sound like love, but it is. Heidi is
pragmatic, realistic, and brave. Not every parent could have performed that
therapy for such a difficult, detached child. Creating a bond of love like this
is not for the softhearted.
Heidi
and Daniel’s story powerfully parallels God’s story with us. In Mary’s
Magnificat that we used as a psalm today, Mary boldly proclaims God’s role in
human history. Many of these descriptions don’t sound like love. God has
scattered the proud of heart and brought down the mighty rulers from their
thrones. God has sent the rich away empty and shown His strength to the
generations. God has done all of this to foreigners, yet God has also done this
to God’s own people. God has done this out of love because:
Sometimes love looks like taking all your
bedroom furniture away except a mattress so you don’t cause damage to your room
or to yourself.
Sometimes love is hugging you and never letting
go even when all you want is to be alone.
Sometimes love is forcing you to do something
simple like passing a notebook over and over again until you do it kindly –
with eye contact.
Sometimes the greatest love is tough love
because that is really what we need.
When
Gabriel told Mary that she would bear God’s son who would save the world, she
knew that this wouldn’t be an easy ride. She knew that her God of mercy also
was a powerful God able to overturn the strongest rulers. Mary didn’t know
exactly what raising Jesus would be like, but she did know that she was up for
the challenge.
This
God that we worship is not just full of soft, cuddly kindness. God’s love for
us is often shown in tough ways. God’s love is that kick in the butt to move
forward when we don’t think we can take another step. God’s love for us may
seem like intensive therapy sometimes, yet we come out of the experience truly
feeling what love is.
Love is not bubbly hearts. Love is moving forward.
Forward to the manger on the way to the cross. Amen.
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