The Gospel of Adoption

Adoption is at the heart of the Gospel. I was reminded of this beautiful truth this week in the confluence of our family receiving a foster child and two of the Lectionary texts assigned for Sunday, January 1.

New Years Eve Amy and I picked up 2-day old Noah at a local hospital, welcoming him into our family for what is yet an undetermined period of time. Where this is only a foster placement and could end at any point with the reunification of mother and child, there is also a chance that this could become an adoptive scenario. In either case, receiving this baby into our family has opened my eyes afresh to the beauty of God's grace, in which our Heavenly Father welcomes us into His family.

Amazingly, all of this happened in a week in which two of the Lectionary texts speak very compellingly about adoption: Galatians 4:4-7 and Isaiah 62:2. So, on Saturday, my sermon from Luke 2 got chucked and I enjoyed the gift of reflecting on God's adoptive heart.

The Galatians text reads: But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, ⁵in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children. ⁶And because you are children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” ⁷So you are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then also an heir, through God.

The Isaiah text: The nations shall see your vindication, and all the kings your glory; and you shall be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will give.

So you can see why I tossed out my sermon! Wow! 

So here are some reflections. What happens when a child is adopted? What does it mean that we "have received adoption as children" of God?

1. Adoption means a new name... a name the Lord gives, and a new name means a new identity, an unshakable identity, an identity not rooted in the shallow ground of our accomplishments or self-making, not subject to the frailty of our faith or inevitability of our failures, but rooted deeply in the steady faithfulness and irrevocable choice of God.


2. Adoption means a new family. We are not adopted metaphorically into an individualistic arrangement with God, but concretely into a family of faith where we have real, flesh-and-blood brothers and sisters, an actual support structure and network of real relationships through which God speaks to, challenges, leads, and blesses us.


3. Adoption means a new privilege. Being brought into this new family and given this name entails having the full range of God's resources as our own. The Spirit by which we are adopted is none other than the Spirit of Jesus, and everything that is His is not ours. His rights have become our rights, as we are full co-heirs with Him.

4. Adoption means new responsibility. In this family there are no freeloaders. When God adopts, God empowers and God gives us the amazing gift and dignity of being partners in the work of the Kingdom. In the scripture we have other instances of God declaring people to be His children. The Lord calls Israel "his firstborn son" (Exodus 4:22). The kings of Israel were often called Son of God (Psalm 2:7). And, of course, Jesus is declared to be God's beloved Son (see the Gospel accounts of Jesus' baptism and transfiguration). In each case, sonship comes with great responsibility, to be a light to the nations, to be the leader of God's people, and to be the savior of the world. Our adoption means nothing less... we have great responsibility as children of God.

5. Adoption means having a new story. Our lives are defined by stories, and adoption by God means we are redefined by God's story, the story of Israel, Jesus and the church. In this great story we are given a hope-filled and confident sense of who we are, and we can say with assurance in the face of any competing story, "My daddy is stronger than yours!"

6. Adoption means a new table. In my family, eating together is central to how we share life together. This is only more so in God's family, where are are invited to the family meal at which there is always enough food and drink, always space for sharing our joys and hurts, and always assurance that whatever grievances may have occurred among us, none are stronger than the ties that bring us back to this Table.

On Sunday morning, I wrote down these reflections through bleary eyes, having not slept much the night before (victim of a vicious two-infant tag-team). My fatigue reminded me that receiving a child is a costly endeavor... in many ways. This is supremely the case for our Lord, for whom adopting us cost the very life of Jesus. This adventure is also  risky. Our hearts are already bound to Noah, and we may well have our hearts broken if he leaves our family. This, though, is the nature of love. God takes the greatest risk of love in making the ultimate sacrifice in order to adopt children who may never recognize Him as Father. And yet, in the face of the cost and the risk, God adopts us still, graciously choosing us and determining to love us.

Thank you, Father.