Families can be special in all kinds of different ways. Sometimes it is in the simple things - the clatter of plates at a shared meal, the familiar voices drifting through a house, the quiet reassurance of knowing you belong somewhere. And sometimes it is in the harder things - the disagreements, the disappointments, the times when relationships seem stretched.
It can be in the sharing of celebrations and joys, or in the times when we’re bound together by sadness… Families can be places of deep love, but they can also be places of challenge, because families are made of people, and people are gloriously imperfect.
One thing is common though, whether we have families with who we want to spend lots of time or not, and that is that most of us carry a longing to belong, to be accepted, to be held securely within a circle that says, “You are ours.” It is into that longing that Paul speaks in Romans (8:12-25). He doesn’t begin with rules or expectations, he begins with identity and with belonging. He begins with the incredible and wonderful truth that God, in Jesus, has taken us into his family.
“You have received a Spirit of adoption,” Paul says, “by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” That single word - Abba - is the heartbeat of the whole passage. It is the cry of a child who knows they are safe, of someone who knows they are wanted. It is the cry of someone who knows they are home…
We are not guests in God’s house and not distant relatives. We are not tolerated or merely accommodated. We are children - fully, freely, joyfully welcomed!
And if we are children, Paul continues, then we are heirs. We share in Christ’s life, Christ’s suffering, Christ’s glory. We are woven into the very life of God. That is the rhythm of this passage - the confidence that comes from knowing who we are, and whose we are.
Paul, in this passage, invites us to compare the families we know with the family God creates. Human families, even the best of them, carry their bruises. Parents get things wrong. Children get things wrong. Siblings fall out. Promises are broken. Expectations are missed. And yet, in the midst of all that, love persists - sometimes it is fragile, sometimes fierce and sometimes quietly faithful. But it persists.
Think of a family gathered for a celebration. There is laughter, warmth, shared memories. But look closely and you will see the small tensions too - the family member who feels overlooked, the teenager who feels misunderstood, the parent who carries a worry that isn’t discussed. Families are beautiful, but they are never perfect.
And we contrast that with God’s family. God’s love is not fragile. God’s patience does not fray. God’s welcome does not depend on our performance. God does not withdraw affection when we fail. God does not keep a record of our mistakes to use against us later. God’s love is unlimited, unchanging, perfect.
And that is why Paul insists that we are not to live in fear. “You did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear,” he writes. Fear is what grows in families where acceptance is conditional. It is what grows when love is uncertain. But in God’s family, fear has no place. We live securely, confidently, hopefully, because the One who calls us his children is faithful.
This is where the reading from Matthew’s gospel (13:24–30, 36–43) helps us. Jesus tells the parable of the wheat and the weeds - a story of a field where good seed and bad seed grow side by side. The servants want to pull up the weeds immediately, but the master says no. Let them grow together until the harvest. Only then will the separation be made clear.
It is a picture of the world we live in - a world where good and evil exist side by side, where there is both beauty and brokenness and where God’s children live among all the complexities of human life.
Imagine that field. The golden wheat rising, the weeds twisting among them. From a distance, it looks untidy, even troubled. But the master is not anxious. He knows what he planted and what will endure. He knows how the story ends.
And in the meantime, the wheat grows. It grows even with weeds around it and when conditions are not ideal. It grows because its life comes from the seed planted by the master.
So it is with us. We grow as God’s children in a world that is not yet perfect. We grow in families that are not perfect. We grow in communities that sometimes struggle. We grow in a world where conflict flares, where economies go up and down, where headlines unsettle. But we grow because God has planted us, and God sustains us.
And these readings are a reminder that God is God for today, tomorrow and all the future - Paul’s message in his letter to the Romans is not simply about the future. Yes, he speaks of glory to come. Yes, he speaks of creation groaning, waiting for liberation. Yes, he speaks of hope, the hope that what we long for will one day be revealed. But Paul is equally clear that this hope shapes how we live now.
If we are God’s children, then we are called to live with a different outlook. We are called to live with confidence, not anxiety; with hope, not despair. We live with purpose, not confusion. And we live with the recognition that our lives matter, our choices matter and our witness matters.
We also live with the knowledge that God’s Spirit is at work within us. Paul says that the Spirit bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God. That means that God’s presence in us is not abstract. It is not theoretical. It is real, active, personal. God’s Spirit whispers truth when fears whisper lies. God’s Spirit strengthens us when weakness threatens to overwhelm and God’s Spirit reminds us who we are when the world tries to tell us otherwise.
And so we celebrate the family to which we belong! God’s family. There is real joy in this - the joy of belonging, of being loved without limits, of knowing that our failures do not disqualify us from being a part of the family. The joy of knowing that God delights in us – yes, delights in us!
And the joy of knowing that we are part of something larger, richer, more beautiful than we can imagine.
Paul says that creation itself is waiting for the revealing of the children of God. That is an extraordinary thought. The world is waiting for us, for God’s family, to live out the life we have been given. To shine with the light of Christ and to embody hope, to carry peace, show compassion. To live generously.
And Jesus, in Matthew’s parable, says that at the end, the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. That is our destiny. That is our calling. That is our joy.
It is a great plan for the future. But Paul will not let us drift into thinking that this is only about the future. He says that we hope for what we do not yet see, and we wait for it with patience. But he also says that the Spirit helps us in our weakness. The Spirit intercedes for us. The Spirit sustains us. The Spirit anchors us in the love of God today.
So, we live as God’s children now. We live securely in God’s family now. We live with hope now. We live with confidence now. We live with joy now. Because God’s love is not postponed. God’s welcome is not delayed. God’s family is not a future promise - it is a present reality.
So today, celebrate the family you belong to. Celebrate God who has adopted you. Celebrate the Spirit who strengthens you. Celebrate the hope that carries you. And live confidently, joyfully, patiently, knowing that the One who calls you his child will never let you go.
Today you can leave here with confidence and hope, because you are part of God’s family and you are loved.
And I’d like to leave you a challenge for the week - When you wake up each day try to think "I am a child of God". Think about what this means for you and think about what this means for how you treat everyone you meet as a brother or sister loved by the same Father - whether you know it or not!
May we shine today, tomorrow, and always - as children of God, heirs of grace, bearers of hope. Amen
Comments