Adopted by God
based on Romans 8:14-17
by Rev. Randy Quinn

For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God.  For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption.  When we cry, "Abba! Father!" it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ – if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.

Romans 8:14-17

 How many of you have grandchildren?  How many have had good relationships with your grandparents?  More than once I’ve seen bumper stickers and sweat shirts that say “if I had known grandchildren were so fun, I would’ve had them first;” and at the High School graduation last Sunday, the speaker suggested that we get along with our grandparents because, as he said, “we share a common enemy” in the generation between us.  J

 Ronda sees our grandchildren more often than I do, so it’s not surprising that on those times when I do see them, they respond better to her than they do to me.  Children are like that.  Even Melissa responds more to people who have spent time with her.  When we spend time with our grandchildren, there is a certain amount of trust that develops, a trust that allows love to be shared.

 And while it’s true God has no grandchildren; that kind of a relationship is certainly an apt one to begin with as we try to discern what it means to be God’s children, children who once belonged to a different family and are now included in God’s family.

 Paul tries to explain it by using adoption as an analogy – or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that adoption is a symbol, since in theological terms, a symbol is something that participates in something as well as pointing toward it.

 In our culture, we are familiar with the concept of adoption.  Our family is just one example since we have adopted children in our home.  Some of you do, too.  We have also heard the stories of people who go to foreign countries to adopt children from orphanages and raise them in the context of a loving family.

 But our culture also talks about adoption as a choice and a commitment to ideas and causes.  Congress “adopts” a law, for instance.  People adopt animals at the zoo, which really means they help provide financial support for the zoo.  I have also seen signs along the highways that indicate someone has ‘adopted’ that portion of a road or a rest area – which means they help keep it clean for the rest of us.

 We even use the language of adoption when we refer to people who immigrate to the United States – or who emigrate from here to someplace else.  We speak of their adopted country and the process of adopting the customs of that new place.

 Paul is writing to the church in Rome where adoption was most popular among the wealthy class of citizens.  Rich Romans would often find intelligent people – including children, slaves, and adults – and take them in and teach them how to manage their estates; and then they would leave the estate to them when they died.  Rarely was there an emotional attachment to these adopted children, however.

 Although I don’t know of any in particular, I can imagine there were people who looked forward to working for those wealthy benefactors, hoping they might inherit a portion of their wealth.

 There is no comparable concept in the Hebrew Scriptures, however.  The Law of Moses simply did not address adoption.  We have stories of people taking in and caring for family members – such as the story of Mordecai taking in Esther or the story of Ruth claiming her familial ties to Naomi – but nowhere is there a story of adoption in the sense that either we or the Romans thought of it.

 That makes our text for today all the more profound.  Paul is using a Roman institution to explain a key aspect of our faith, tying it to the Hebrew concept of God selecting the people of Israel to be a chosen people.  If, as the Gospel of John tells us, Jesus is the “only begotten son” of God (Jn. 3:16), Paul is telling us that Jesus is not an only child.  Others have been chosen to be a part of the family, too.

 And like the Roman concept, there is an inheritance associated with our new status as God’s children; unlike the Roman experience, however, we are given permission to use the intimate language of children:  we can call God Abba, a phrase that is closer to our word Daddy than anything else.

 So Paul is telling us that because the Holy Spirit has come, we can claim the same intimate relationship with God the Father that Jesus had.

 As you know, Ronda and I have three adopted children from two different biological families.  That means that in our family anyway, adoption affects more than the child-parent relationship.  It also means the children in our family are siblings of other children – some adopted, some biological.

 In the family of God, there are no grandchildren, but that doesn’t mean there are no siblings.  Each of us here can call God Daddy, but so can a lot of other people.

 In the family of God, we use the symbol of baptism to mark our adoption.  It is the point at which we recognize our new family relationships – including the ‘sibling’ relationship between us (which is part of why we include the congregation in the liturgy when we baptize someone or welcome a new member to the church).

 We confirm that relationship when we take the vows of membership and accept our responsibilities as brothers or sisters in faith.  God has invited us to become a part of this large family; God desires to welcome us by adopting us as individual children, creating a sense of family within the church.

 As we spend time with God, our Heavenly Father, as we listen to and learn from Jesus our spiritual brother, we begin to trust God’s Spirit to direct us.  The love that exists between the Father and the Son becomes a part of our own lives and the Holy Spirit gives us power, power to become children of God (Jn. 1:12).

 Thanks be to God.  Amen.