Romans 8:1-17 · Life Through the Spirit
Children of the Heavenly Father
Romans 8:12-25
Sermon
by Steven E. Albertin
Loading...

Some consider it a secret. Others consider it almost a badge of honor. Some don't want to talk about it. Others almost seem to want to brag about it. What is it? It is "adoption." Some children won't find out that they are not being raised by their biological parents but by their adoptive parents until they are in middle school or even later. Other children are aware of their adopted status from the earliest days of their childhood. It is not something of which to be ashamed. It is essential to their identity. It is something that makes them unique and of which they can be proud.

The parents usually decide how they are going to unveil their child's adoptive identity. Those who choose to do it gradually over a period of years are fearful of what full disclosure might mean to their child and their relationship with their child. Those who choose to be totally open from the beginning about the child's origins and his/her adopted status are also concerned about what it might do to their child and their relationship with their child. For them secrecy is dangerous.

Whichever strategy is chosen, both begin from a common assumption: Adoption is not "normal." The norm is that parents have children and that children have parents. It is not normal that parents be childless. Some infertile couples will spend thousands of dollars trying to correct that status. It is also not normal that children "lose" their biological parents for whatever reason. In a perfect world, every child born into this world would be loved and nurtured by its biological parents. But our world is not perfect. All too often parents are without children and children are without parents. One such remedy for this imperfect situation in this imperfect world is adoption. It is not the norm, but it is better than growing up as an orphan or remaining childless.

Paul's first-century world was no different from ours in that respect. Adoption was not preferred but a satisfactory way to rectify and improve a problematic situation. A slave who had been torn away from his parents and family could become a member of his master's family with all the rights and privileges of a biological son by means of adoption. An orphan could be "saved" and given a new home and new family through adoption. Parents who had tragically lost a child to death could regain a child through adoption.

It is no accident that Paul would use this kind of extraordinary and unusual image to describe our relationship to God. Paul wants to make an important point. Our status as children of God is not normal or part of the natural course of things in life. To become a child of God requires extraordinary and unusual action.

This flies in the face of and contradicts the spirituality of our world today. So much of popular culture and religion assumes that we are already "sons and daughters of God." We don't need to be adopted because we already have within us a spark of divinity, a piece of God. All we need to do is to discover the divine already within us and put it to use. Not only will we be redeemed but this world will be a better place because of us. Listen to Dr. Phil or the latest self-help guru and you will hear a version of this. The immensely popular The Da Vinci Code speaks of the human situation in the same way. Jesus is the revealer of the "divine feminine" symbolized by Mary Magdalene. The "divine feminine" is present in all of us. Salvation is discovering the "divine feminine" within us and living according to it.

They make it seem so obvious and so easy, but it is not. It is a lie and an illusion. It just is not so. This world is broken and bleeding. We are not already sons and daughters of God who just need a gentle reminding in order to become who we already are. Our plight is much worse than that. I saw an amazing film about family life. I don't think it was a big box office hit, but it certainly was entertaining and revealing. The film was titled The Family Stone. Diane Keaton was the only star in it that I recognized. At times it was incredibly funny. At other times it made you cry because it was so painfully and truthfully honest. As the family Stone gathered together to celebrate Christmas, you saw how incredibly dysfunctional family life can be. There is incredible love and humor. There is also incredible pettiness and hatred. It is amazing to see how cruel family members can be to one another. It is heartrending to see them try to love one another in spite of their cruelty to one another. I think it is a portrayal of family life that we can all identify with because all families are dysfunctional in one way or another. There is no such thing as a "normal" family. There are only varying degrees of dysfunction.

Another film that I suspect many of you have seen is the Oscar-winning film, Crash. It begins with a car crash but then moves on to give us a graphic portrayal of the fallenness of the human condition. Over the course of two hours we see everyone in that film struggle with their racism and prejudice. Regardless of how hard they try to overcome such attitudes, they can't.

That is what all good art does. Whether it is literature or film or theater or even music, at their best they do more than entertain. They reveal the human condition, how broken and trapped we all are. Or as Saint Paul continually reminds us in his letter to the Romans, we all live "according to the flesh." We are sinners, incomplete, imperfect, in dysfunctional families, filled with racist attitudes, and are unable to really do anything about it in spite of our best efforts to the contrary.

The problem is even worse. Paul asserts that this human fallenness also extends to the natural world in which we live. It, too, is broken, imperfect, and not as it was intended to be. The natural world, too, has been infected with sin and cries out for redemption. This is a rather politically incorrect thing for Paul to assert in this world of ours. We usually don't think we live in a world like that. In many ways, science has de-mystified the world in which we live. When things go wrong in the natural world, we explain it by referring to laws of nature and science. In recent years, Hurricane Katrina devastated the south, earthquakes and a tsunami ravaged Asia. A physician once explained to me the physiology of cancer cells and said that all of us were doomed to get cancer sooner or later. The reason why many don't die of cancer is that something else gets them first. All are scientific explanations of cause and effect. No one needs to talk about sin and judgment and God.

Here Paul asserts that such suffering and death are not just the unfolding of the laws of nature and the natural course of things. They are signs of sin. Life is not as it is intended to be. This world is under divine judgment. It groans and cries out for someone or something to "save" it. If any of you have seen Al Gore's Oscar-winning film, An Inconvenient Truth, and are wondering about the human influence on global warming and the catastrophe that could result, then you can see that Paul's linkage of sin and suffering to the world of nature is not so far fetched.

What Paul says next is again surprising. Paul compares all this suffering, pain, and trouble to labor pains, to the suffering and pain a woman goes through as she gives birth to a child. The pain seems terrible but is all worthwhile because it is the beginning of new life. Once the baby is born, the pain is forgotten. The pain was worth it because of the life that resulted. I suppose it is not all that unlike the "pain" that a child must go through waiting for Christmas to arrive. It is painful to see the gifts pile up under the tree and not be able to open any. It is painful to tell Santa what you want but then have to wait weeks to get it. It is painful to wait for the arrival of the big day, but the child is willing to wait and endure such pain because he knows what is coming. And so, we live with hope. We wait with patience.

How can Paul talk this way about suffering? How can he make something that is so negative sound so positive? Is Paul being insensitive here, not taking seriously to reality of suffering? Is this some sort of "Pollyanna," pie-in-the-sky fantasy? I don't think so. Paul is not ignoring the reality of suffering and pain. He knows what it means to hurt. Certainly his life was filled with suffering and pain, even if he was not himself able to experience the pain of childbirth. Paul is not minimizing the reality of suffering. He is able to compare it to labor pains and childbirth because of Christ. For Paul everything is always about Christ. It is because of Christ and what God did in Christ that Paul can still dare to speak so positively and with such hope in the midst of such hurt.

God is determined to love us and this world. God will not allow anything or anyone to thwart his love. Even our sin, even his own anger and disappointment with what we have done with this world cannot get in the way. God hears the groans and the cries of pain. God knows that we are children in search of a home. He cannot bear to hear it any longer. He puts himself between us and the grave so that it all doesn't come to a grinding halt. He sends Jesus, his very own Son, "very God of very God, begotten and not made," to be the friend of sinners and sufferers and orphans and childless parents and the victims of cancer and hurricanes and earthquakes and tsunamis so that no one will be alone and without God. But even more than that, God raises Jesus from the dead "on the third day" so that that the hold of sin, death, and judgment is broken.

We were adrift, in search of a home, of a place to belong, of someone we can trust and never let us down. That one has found us. That one has "adopted" us and made us his very own sons and daughters. That decision is carried out in the waters of baptism. There God speaks the very same words to us that he spoke to Jesus the day he was baptized by John in waters of the Jordan River: "You are my beloved Son/Daughter, with whom I am well pleased." Your families might be dysfunctional. Your parents might let you down. Your children might disappoint you. Your racism and prejudice might divide you. The convulsions and tremors of nature might frighten you. Your mortality might terrify you. Your sense of guilt and shame might make you want to go run and hide not only from each other but from God. But no more! God has adopted you. You are sons and daughters of God. Jesus is your brother. The Creator of heaven and earth is your Father, your Daddy, your Abba.

Paul preserves the Aramaic original of the word that Jesus used to address his father. Jesus didn't just call God "Father." He used the very intimate and personal word that first-century Jewish children used to call their fathers in the intimacy and familiarity of their own homes. There they called their fathers "abba." It is the equivalent of "daddy" or "papa." When Jesus dared to address God in this manner, eyebrows were raised. It caught people's attention. Who did this guy think he was to dare to talk to God like this? Did he actually think God was his papa? Did he really think he was God's child? You got it! That is exactly what he was saying! And Paul says that this same privileged status is ours. We can dare to believe and act and behave as if God was our very own daddy, which, of course, he is! Why? Because he has adopted us!

There is something about adoption that is even is more powerful than actually being the biological child of a mother and father. I remember once reading a letter that a father wrote to his son on the occasion of his son's eighteenth birthday. In the face of his adolescent son's questions, doubts, and insecurities, he wanted to assure him that there was nothing wrong with being adopted. In fact, in some ways it made him more special. He pointed out that sometimes biological children come into this world unwanted. We all know about the plight of the children of single parents in our society and that so many of their children are unplanned and unwanted. Even children of two parents sometimes are unwanted. They come along at the wrong time. They weren't planned. They were "accidents," a "surprise" when mom and dad thought they were too old, an "oops" when proper precautions weren't taken.

The father then goes on to assure his son that this can't be said about his son. His adopted status ought to be a source of pride and comfort. Because he was adopted, he is extra special. He became a part of his family purely because of the choice of his new parents. He was specifically and deliberately "chosen." There was no "oops," no bad timing, nothing accidental about this. This act of adoption was deliberately willed, an act of pure love, mimicking God's love for the world in Jesus Christ.

With such adoption comes all the rights, privileges, and honors that belong to the biological children of the parents. Because God has adopted us, we are fully his beloved sons and daughters. Jesus is our big brother. We get to enjoy the life he lived. We get to have all the rights and privileges that he enjoyed. Martin Luther says it well in his explanation to the Introduction to the Lord's Prayer in his Small Catechism.

Our Father in heaven.Our Father in heaven.

What does this mean?What does this mean?

Here God encourages us to believe that he is truly our Father and we are his children. We therefore are to pray to him with complete confidence just as children speak to their loving father.Here God encourages us to believe that he is truly our Father and we are his children. We therefore are to pray to him with complete confidence just as children speak to their loving father.

We get to talk to God in prayer about anything, just like we would talk to our abba, our papa. Our papa treats us just like we were one of his children. That means we can count on our papa to give us whatever we need to keep on believing that God is our papa and we are his kids.

Because we are his children, we get to live just like our big brother, Jesus. We, too, get to live a cross-shaped, cruciform, life. We get to be a friend of sinners and outcasts. We get to offer justice and mercy to our neighbors and this world of ours. That won't be easy. There will be suffering and pain. But, remember what Paul says. Such suffering and pain are not random or purposeless. They are the pangs of birth, the labor pains of a new life.

The older I get, the more acutely I am aware of my own mortality and the mortality of others and their suffering and pain. I had to experience it with my own mother and mother-in-law. I have seen it happen to the members of the congregations in which I have served. I have seen it happen to friends and strangers. Your parent is aged and dying. It is not pretty to watch. I once had a member of my congregation whose husband was a virtual vegetable after suffering a stroke. She waited lovingly and patiently on him day after day for months. Then one day she looked up at me with pain and grief filling her face, "Pastor, they told me it would be the golden years. I never thought that golden would mean this."

In the face of such end-of-life decisions, we don't have to make an idol out of this life. We can afford to let go. (Folks, if you haven't already done so, you need to make a living will or some other end-of-life directive.) Because God has already adopted us, because we are God's beloved sons and daughters, this is no ordinary suffering. This suffering and pain are the pangs of birth, the labor pains of a better life to come. Therefore, extraordinary efforts to hold on to life do not need to be taken. It is not just a matter of saving money or good stewardship of our healthcare system. It is a matter of our Christian hope in the life to come. We can let go and let God.

The cruciform life takes many shapes. Like Jesus before us, we can give ourselves away, even if it is inconvenient and painful. Sooner or later every one of us has had to bear a cross like this. There is that coworker whom God must have sent into our lives to test us. You know, the guy at work who has terrible hygiene. He needs a bath and seldom takes one. He is the one who drinks from your Coke when your back is turned. He swipes the candy when no one is looking. He doesn't do his work and expects everyone else to do it for him. No wonder he can't get his work done. He is talking all the time. Quotas are not being met and you have to make up the difference. Working with him is painful. This is suffering if there ever was suffering.

Why has God done this to you? You don't deserve this. Then you remember Paul's words and realize that this not a burden but a gift. This is your God given opportunity to be patient, to love, to care for another, to bear your cross, because Jesus loves him, too. These days are the pangs of birth. Because the day is coming when your insufferable coworker will be healed of all these bad and irritating habits ... just like you will be healed of yours and all the rest of this insufferable world along with you. Until then you can wait. You can be patient. You have hope.

Such is the blessed lot of those who have been adopted, the sons and daughters of God, children of the heavenly Father. Amen.

CSS Publishing, Inc., Sermons for Sundays after Pentecost (First Third): The Good News, The Bad News, and The Only News That Matters, by Steven E. Albertin