Because He Loves Us

The life of a Christian is the continual response to the love the Father first shares with us.

Because he loves us, we love him and seek to obey his commandments.

A Father's Love

How did we become sons and daughters of God?
The short answer is because God said so.

Just like in creation God said, “Let there be light” and there was light, so it was in the waters of our baptism that God said, “You are my beloved child,” and sure enough we were made his beloved daughter or son.

It was nothing we did.  And so the ability we have to call God, Father, is a pure gift; the gracious work of God.

Coming Home to God

As we move our clocks forward this morning and make our way toward the first day of Spring, I figured it was a good time to point out that the word “Lent” we use for the name of this church season is the Old English word for “Spring”.

It’s the ancestor of our modern word “lengthen”, and Spring was called Lent because it’s the season of lengthening days.  It’s the season of growth and gestation; of preparing for renewal and new life.

And the church adopted the word Lent for this season, because it’s a time of preparing for new life, too; the life of the resurrection.  The “new creation” Paul talks about this morning; our rebirth as sons and daughters of God.

And this morning, I want to talk about the rebirth we experience as Christians.  And in particular, I want to talk about the identity we receive in that rebirth.

In John’s gospel, Jesus tells Nicodemus that, “No one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again. And no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit.”

And when we were baptized, that’s exactly what happened to us.  We were born again of water and the Spirit.  We entered into the kingdom of God and were made children of God.

And it’s that identity that I want to talk about this morning.  Our identity as children of God.  Because, as the story of the prodigal son reminds us, it’s an identity that we often forfeit or forget.

Jesus tells us that the Father had two sons.  And in the parable we see how both sons forget or even reject their identity as their father’s sons.

They both create new identities for themselves.  And the identities they create are so much less than the one their father gave them.

The younger son takes all he has and sets out for a distant country where he lives a life of wine, women and song.  He lives as if he has no father and family.  But in the end, he ends up as a slave sent out to slop the pigs.

The older son also forgot or forsook his identity as the father’s son.  And like his younger brother, he also ends up taking on the identity of a slave.  In verse 30, he’s out in the fields, refusing to enter his father’s house. “All these years I’ve worked like a slave for you.”

And again we have Jesus’ words, “No one can enter the kingdom of God – the house of the Father – unless they are born anew”

And what we see in these two sons is that they both need to be born anew before they can bring themselves to reenter their father’s house.  They needed to reconnect with their true identity; the identity their father gave them.  Their identity as his sons.

And then one day, when the younger son was slopping the pigs, he’s so hungry and desperate that the slop actually looked good to him.  On that day, we’re told, “he came to himself.”

And it’s easy to race by that phrase, so I want to take a moment to focus on those words, “He came to himself.”  Without getting too much into the grammar here, in the original language what the phrase means is, “He took possession of himself.”

He once again took possession of his true identity.  He took ownership of his status again.  He was his father’s son.  What was lost had been found.  He was born anew.  As Paul says, “He was a new creation”

Of course, with this realization came a sense of sorrow and repentance.  He’d sinned against his father.  In fact, he’d sinned so grievously that didn’t deserve to be called his son anymore.

And yet, now that his identity was restored, now that he knew he was his father’s son, it didn’t matter whether his father regarded him as a son or slave.  The son would accept either because he now knew who his father was and that he was his son.

That knowledge became the unshakeable foundation of his identity.  Come what may, he would always know he was his father’s son.

And of course, Jesus tells us that the father was gracious and merciful.  He was overjoyed that his son was home and he wouldn’t hear any talk of him being a servant or a slave. 

He was his son.  Always had been.  Always would be.

The older brother, though, is a different story.  We don’t know what happens with him.  Jesus doesn’t tell us.

The last we see of him he’s out in the field, having separated himself from his father.  And clinging to his identity as a slave, he’s unable to reenter the father’s house.

So his father comes out to plead with him.  He calls him his son and invites to come him into the house.  But the son’s reaction tells us that he isn’t ready to be born anew.  He’s trapped in this slavish identity he’s made for himself. 

In fact, he talks to his father like a disgruntled employee whose boss has bypassed him for a promotion and given it to his “no-good son” instead.

“I’ve slaved away for you all these years and you haven’t given me anything.  And now this son of yours comes home and you kill the fatted calf.”

 “Son,” the father pleads with him, “everything I have is yours.  It always has been It always will be.”

But, having lost sight of his true identity, the older son’s not able to hear his father, or even hear him when he calls him “son.”

And as I said earlier, you and I are often like these two sons; forgetting the identity our Father has given us in our baptism.  And instead ending up as slaves to sin.

How often do we give into sin and temptation like the younger son?  How often do we get lured in by the promise of short-term joy and pleasure only to find that our sin has trapped and made us its slave?

And how often are we like the older brother, enslaved by bitterness and anger and resentment.  We get so busy trying to please God by slaving away for him here at the church, or in our homes, or with our families or at work.

In fact, we get so busy slaving away for him that we start seeing him more as a boss than as the loving Father he is.

If you find yourself resonating with either son, then I’d encourage you to remember that we don’t have to live as slaves to sin and bitterness.  That’s not what we were created for.  That’s not the identity and inheritance our Father intends for us.

And so he comes to us this morning in the midst of whatever slavery we’ve given ourselves to and says to us what the father told the son in the parable.  Our heavenly Father says to us, “My child, all that I have is yours. It always has been.  And it always will be.  Come back home.”

And if you’re like the younger son and you’ve already come to yourself and been born anew.  If you’ve come back to the identity God gave you in your baptism, but now are feeling guilty and wondering how your Father will receive you when you come home.

Then look no further than the feast of Communion we’re about to share.  He’s throwing this feast for you.  It’s a celebration to welcome you home.

• Joshua 5:9-12  • 
 
• Psalm 32  • 
 
• 2 Corinthians 5:16-21  • 
 
• Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

The Father's Constancy

In our lessons this morning, we see three different stages or phases of our faith relationship with God.

And I’ll unpack these phases in a moment, but to quickly summarize them: in Genesis we see our relationship through Abram’s anxious and somewhat immature faith; in our Psalm, we see the relationship through the Psalmists mature faith; and in the Gospel, we see it through Herod’s disobedience.

And I want to suggest that all of us move back and forth between these different phases throughout our lives.  Sometimes our faith is full and mature.  Other times it’s weaker, and we’re racked with doubts and anxiety.  And still at other times we turn our back on God through sinful disobedience.

What we also see in these lessons, though, is that regardless of where we are in our relationship with God, God remains consistent and unchanged.  He’s the same loving Father no matter where we are in our faith.

In Genesis, we hear the story of Abram, and the anxiety he feels about the fact that he doesn’t have an heir.  God had promised that he would be the father of a great nation, and yet, here he is rapidly aging and still no children.  And so he takes his anxiety to God.

And God tells Abram, “Do not be afraid.  I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.”

Though that’s not actually the most accurate translation of the original Hebrew.  A more accurate translation would be: “Do not be afraid.  I am your shield, your reward; exceedingly great.”

And so what God is saying to Abram is, “Yes, I’ve promised you an heir, and that you’ll be the father of a great nation.  But that’s not the reward.  The true reward, the true gift is me,” God says.  I am your reward; your shield.  And I’m exceedingly great.”

Of course, like most children, Abram completely misses his Father’s point.  God the Father tells Abram, “My love for you is your reward.”  And the son responds, “Great dad, but when are you going to give me my stuff?”

Yet, even though Abram misses the point, he still recognizes God as his heavenly Father.  And he looks to him as the giver of all good things.  And we’re told that that mustard seed of faith was reckoned to him as righteousness.

So that’s the first phase of our relationship with God.  Abram recognizes God as his loving Father and the giver of all good things, but he hasn’t matured yet enough in his faith to recognize that God is the true blessing; the true reward.  Everything else is secondary.

Now Psalm 27, on the other hand, is an example of faith that’s more fully matured.  Unlike Abram’s faith that looked to God for gifts and blessings, the psalmist looks for God himself.

“There’s only one thing I seek after,” he says, “to behold the beauty of the Lord.”

Unlike Abram who looked for tangible blessings from God, tThe Psalmist trusts in God even when no blessings seem apparent.

“Even if an army encamps against me,” he says, “and even if my mother and father forsake me, and evildoers assail me to devour my flesh, I still believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”

And so here we see the benchmark of a mature faith.  And this is the kind of faith we hear Paul encourage the Corinthians to have in our second lesson this morning when he says, “Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me and observe those who live according to our example.”

Paul is encouraging them to trust God even when no blessings seem apparent.  It is a mature faith that recognizes that God is “our light and our salvation” even when all else around you is dark.

And, finally, the third example of the kind of relationship we can have with God is the one that Herod gives in our gospel lesson; the example of an adversarial relationship.

Herod was king, and he didn’t want this upstart king Jesus coming in and stealing his glory.

But if course, if you know your ancient history, you know that Herod wasn’t the king of anything.  He was just a puppet for the Romans.  It was Caesar who pulled his strings.

And it’s easy for us to boo and hiss at Herod like some villain in an old black and white movie because he’s the enemy of Jesus.  But if we’re completely honest, we’d have to admit that when we sin we’re really no different than him.

Because when we sin, when we give into temptation and disobey God, we put ourselves in an adversarial relationship with Christ just like Herod did.

We tell him that we’re the king or queen of our life and we’re going to do what we want to do.

But of course, when we give into our temptation and sin, we’re not really in charge.  We’re nothing more than puppets to the one who tempts us; captives to sin, and unable to free ourselves.

And yet, despite our rebellion, God does not change his attitude toward us.  He remains the same patient God who calmed Abram’s fears and anxieties.  The same unwavering God whom the Psalmist depended on as his stronghold.

We see this same patient and dependable God in the Jesus who remains undeterred in the face of Herod’s threats.  His great desire is to gather his children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.  And so he will go to Jerusalem, even if it means facing death.

The whole world may turn its back on Jesus, but he’ll never turn his back on us.

And so while you and I bounce between all these different stages in our relationship with God, he remains the same loving Father he’s always been.

As the bible tells us, “He is the same yesterday, today and forever.”

And so wherever you are in your faith journey, as you come forward to receive Holy Communion this morning, I encourage you to recognize the God who offers himself to you in the bread and wine.

If you’re like Abram and feeling anxious because you’re not seeing some blessing you’ve been asking God to give you, I pray that you would recognize that the God who places himself into your hands this morning is the greatest blessing.

Or if you’re like the psalmist, not looking for blessings just for assurance that God is still with you in the midst of whatever storm you’re going through.  Then come and receive the body and blood of Christ and “behold the beauty of the Lord.”

And finally, if you’ve been in an adversarial relationship with God and given into sin and temptation, then take this opportunity to return to the Lord.

He is still the same loving Father he’s always been.  Come, return to the safety of the shadow of his wings.

• Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18  • 
 
• Psalm 27  • 
 
• Philippians 3:17-4:1  • 
 
• Luke 13:31-35