November is National Adoption Awareness Month. In celebration of  National Adoption Awareness Month, we’re sharing adoption stories from different families at Redeemer.

The following blog is from Kati Berreth, a member of Redeemer, reflecting on her family's call to adopt.

Take a minute or two and listen to this song: http://stevencurtischapman.com/music/all-i-really-want-christmas

"And from everything I've heard, it sounds like the greatest gift on earth would be a mom." This line gets me even now. It makes my heart flutter and the tears well up, just as it did all those years ago.

"All I Really Want" by Steven Curtis Chapman kept playing in my car the month after Owen was born and Rob, my husband, had felt called to adopt. Which, of course, was within minutes of holding his newborn son.

I had just given birth to Owen and Rob was holding him for the first time. Rob looked down into Owen's eyes and he then whispered in my ear, "I think we have room for one more. We have room for a child who doesn't have a mom or a dad." I looked at him as if he were crazy, and probably said something to that effect as well - that part isn't as clear to me.

But what is clear is that during the whole Christmas season following that November, this song made me cry in sadness and frustration...often causing me to change to the next song on the CD quickly. I had just had a baby, our second baby, and I had no plans to adopt.

But God did. After Rob's call, and a discussion that ended with me asking for time to adjust to life with Emma and Owen, a year past. It was time again for this song to begin playing in my car and I began to pray about this call to adopt that had been so clearly placed on Rob's heart. I will be honest, I was scared. This for me was probably the most intense test of my faith.

And yet, after a season of prayer and wrestling with giving up my plans for God's plans, we did decide to adopt a little girl from China. And what ensued over the next four years was a journey that not only led us to adopt a little girl from China, but first to adopt Judson, an eight-month-old from Ethiopia. And then we welcomed Lilli, a two and a half year old from China, into our home.'

So now as I listen to this song each Christmas, I still cry. I cry for the journey that God had me on. I cry over my struggle and how God changed my heart. I cry for joy over the two beautiful children that God so graciously brought into our family. I cry because I get to be their mom. And I cry for the kids who are still waiting. Waiting for a mom and a dad. Waiting for a family.

I am adopted into God's family because God chose me and because Christ graciously gave up his life on the cross for my freedom from the wrath of God for my sin. I did nothing to deserve this. And whether I had been obedient or not during this journey, my standing as a daughter of God would still have been secure. But because of this amazing and overwhelming love and grace, God did change my heart and I was given the opportunity to grow in faith, grow in obedience, and grow in love as I was given the gift of being the mom of Emma, Owen, Lilli and Judson.

How is the Gospel opening your eyes in terms of adoption this season?

I recently read TIm Keller's new book, Generous Justice: How God's Grace Makes Us Just, and highly recommend it to you. The book can be read quickly but the concepts will have lasting impact. Keller's writing is Gospel soaked, Biblical, convicting, and helpful. I have yet to find something Keller has written that hasn’t been well worth the time to read. Here is a recent interview with Tim Keller on his book. (Questions are in bold, responses are in regular type. The link to the interview cna be found at the bottom of the page)

I’ll start with the million dollar question, what is justice and what does it mean to do justice?

Doing justice means giving people their due. On the one hand that means restraining and punishing wrongdoers. On the other hand it means giving people what we owe them as beings in the image of God. Nick Wolterstorff says that, as a creature in the image of God, each human being comes into your presence with ‘claim-rights.’ That is, they have the right to not be killed or kidnapped or raped. Of course there is plenty of room for disagreement on the specifics of these things, but that’s my basic definition. Doing justice, then, includes everything from law enforcement to being generous to the poor. (I believe Job 29 and 31 include generosity as part of a just life.)

You explain at the beginning of the book that you are writing for four kinds of people: those excited about doing justice, those suspicious, those who have expanded their mission to include social justice, and those who think religion poisons everything. In a sentence, what do you want to say to each group?

I hope that the 1^st group gets a more sustained commitment to doing justice through growing in theological and spiritual maturity.

I hope that the 2^nd group becomes aware that what Jonathan Edwards says is true, namely that there is “no command in the Bible laid down in stronger terms…than the command of giving to the poor.”

I hope that the 3^rd group would be more patient with warnings to not let a justice emphasis undermine a church’s work of evangelism and making disciples. Careful balances have to be struck. (Whoops—that’s two sentences!)

I hope that the 4^th group will be able to recognize that much of their understanding of rights and justice has come from the Bible, and even to critique the church they have to use standards borrowed from Christianity.

What is one of your favorite verses that speaks to either God’s heart for the needy or our call to generous justice?

I don’t have just one. The entire parable of the Good Samaritan has shaped my thinking profoundly.

Why are you so passionate about this issue?

I read the Bible and I’m overwhelmed with the amount of Biblical material that expresses concern for the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the alien. My main gifting is evangelism and I’ve never had extensive experience in a poor community or country. So I reason—if I can see all of this in the Bible, despite the fact that I’m not especially oriented to do so—it must be important to God. I’m passionate about it because I’m passionate to be shaped by the Bible.

What do you do in your own life to pursue generous justice?

At Redeemer, we have an excellent diaconate that works with those in need within our community. In addition, years ago I helped a group of people establish “Hope For New York,” a separate but closely aligned organization, that helps our church members give of their time and money to the needs of the whole city. As I say in the book, many churches who work among the poor establish a 501©3—often a ‘community development corporation’—to do much of the direct ministry to people in need. That way the elders of the local church can concentrate on building up the flock. That fits in with Abraham Kuyper’s insight that it is best for much of Christian work in society to happen through voluntary societies and associations, run by lay people. In the end, then, my main personal contribution to justice in New York City has been to establish and lead my church in a way that makes all this possible.

Any cautions you would give to Christians who are eager to transform the world or make the shalom of the city their church’s mission?

I believe that making disciples and doing justice relate (not exactly) but somewhat in the same way that faith and works relate to one another. We would say that faith alone is the basis for salvation, and yet true faith will always result in good works. We must not “load in” works as if they are an equal with faith as a salvation-base, but neither can we “detach” works and say that they are optional for a believer. Similarly, I would say that the first thing I need to tell people when they come to church is “believe in Jesus,” not “do justice.” Why? Because first, believing in Jesus meets a more radical need and second, because if they don’t believe in Jesus they won’t have that gospel-motivation to do justice that I talk about in the book. So there’s a priority there. On the other hand, for a church to not constantly disciple its people to “do justice” would be utterly wrong, because it is an important part of God’s will. I’m calling for an ‘asymmetrical balance’ here. It seems to me that some churches try to “load in” doing justice as if it is equally important as believing in Jesus, but others, in fear of falling into the social gospel, do not preach or disciple their people to do justice at all. Both are wrong. A Biblical church should be highly evangelistic yet known for its commitment to the poor of the city.

http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/kevindeyoung/2010/10/26/interview-with-tim-keller-on-generous-justice/

Here is a post from Don Carson giving four handles for how to work for justice but not undermine evangelism. I put a few questions after each point for personal application and reflection. (1) By doing evangelism. I know numerous groups that claim to be engaging in “holistic” ministry because they are helping the poor in Chicago or because they are digging wells in the Sahel, even though few if any of the workers have taken the time to explain to anyone who Jesus is and what he has done to reconcile us to God. Their ministry isn’t holistic; it’s halfistic, or quarteristic.

• Why is Carson’s critique in this point so important? Where do you see yourself in danger of a “halfistic” or “quarteristic” ministry?

(2) By being careful not to malign believers of an earlier generation. The popular buzz is that evangelicals before this generation focused all their energies on proclamation and little or nothing on deeds of mercy. Doubtless one can find sad examples of such reductionism, but the sweeping condescension toward our evangelical forbears is neither true nor kind. To take but one example: The mission SIM has emphasized evangelism, church planting, and building indigenous churches for a century—yet without talking volubly of holistic ministry it built, and still operates, many of the best hospitals in sub-Saharan Africa.

• Do you believe the previous Christian generations were only concerned about conversions and not about deeds of mercy? Can you think of specific Christians or groups of Christians that freed slaves, built hospitals, started schools, cared for orphans?

(3) By learning, with careful study of Scripture, just what the gospel is, becoming passionately excited about this gospel, and then distinguishing between the gospel and its entailments. The gospel is the good news of what God has done, especially in Christ Jesus, especially in his cross and resurrection; it is not what we do. Because it is news, it is to be proclaimed. But because it is powerful, it not only reconciles us to God, but transforms us, and that necessarily shapes our behavior, priorities, values, relationships with people, and much more. These are not optional extras for the extremely sanctified, but entailments of the gospel. To preach moral duty without the underlying power of the gospel is moralism that is both pathetic and powerless; to preach a watered-down gospel as that which tips us into the kingdom, to be followed by discipleship and deeds of mercy, is an anemic shadow of the robust gospel of the Bible; to preach the gospel and social justice as equivalent demands is to misunderstand how the Bible hangs together.

• What is the Gospel? Why do we need the Gospel? What are some of the implications for the Gospel? Be careful not to conflate the need for the Gospel and the implications of the Gospel with the Gospel.

(4) By truly loving people in Jesus’ name—our neighbors as ourselves, doing good to all people, especially those of the household of faith. That necessarily includes the alleviation of suffering, both temporal and eternal. Christians interested in alleviating only eternal suffering implicitly deny the place of love here and now; Christians who by their failure to proclaim the Christ of the gospel of the kingdom while they treat AIDS victims in their suffering here and now show themselves not really to believe all that the Bible says about fleeing the wrath to come. In the end, it is a practical atheism and a failure in love.

• How does the Gospel produce people who care deeply about both temporary and eternal suffering? Drawing from these four points what does it look like specifically/practically in your life to “work for justice and not undermine evangelism?”