More than Righteous, At Home

One of the great things the doctrine of adoption can do is expand our understanding of what God has done for us.  For Protestants, it is usually justification that is key to our understanding of salvation; that in Christ, God declares the guilty to be righteous.

This is wonderful as far as it goes, but an understanding of adoption helps us understand that God does more than just forgive us or declare us to be righteous. As good as that is, God goes further.

As Galatians 4:4-6 puts it, "When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son--born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons."

The "so that" is key--it shows that God's sending of Jesus, his redeeming us out from under the curse of the law, all that had a larger purpose.  The larger purpose is so that we might be adopted into his family.

So far one of my favorite books I've read on this topic has been Trevor Burke's Adopted into God's Family: Exploring a Pauline Metaphor.  Here's a great passage from that book:

"To be declared righteous at the bar of God is one thing; it is, however, quite another to be adopted into God's family and able to call him 'Abba, Father'.  Put another way, God does not only justify people and then leave them destitute with nowhere to go--he adopts them into the warmth and security of his household." (pg 25-26)

I wonder how many of us have reflected deeply on the implications of being able to call God "Abba Father," to be welcomed as members into the warmth and security of his household?  How would we live differently if we believed this to be true of us?

"You are my Son, with you I am well pleased..."

Matthew, Mark, and Luke all record the baptism of Jesus, that moment when Jesus is baptized in the Jordan, and his messianic task is initiated. There is so much to say about this passage, and so much to wonder about this passage. In Matthew's account, the voice from heaven speaks about Jesus: "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased." The voice of the Father is addressed to those around witnessing the baptism.

Interestingly, in Mark and Luke's telling, the voice speaks not to the surrounding crowd, but to Jesus himself: "You are my beloved Son, with you I am well pleased." (Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22).

What is going on here? One of the books I read for class (Michael Peppard's The Son of God in the Roman World) suggests that this is a kind of adoption, a kind of mimicking of the adoption-to-power of the Roman emperor (who, interestingly, was also known as "the son of God").  In other words, Mark is making clear to his Roman readers that Jesus--not Caesar--is the true Son of God.

But then, as Michael Peppard asks: "But if the voice is directed privately to Jesus, and Jesus already was the son of God, and already knew that he was, then why did the scene happen at all?" (pg 97).  It's a good question.

Well, I don't have a good answer to that question, but it reminded me of an provocative thought I heard a couple years back.  I was at a conference on children and divorce, and I heard Lisa Lickona suggest that all children need both to be both "begotten and chosen."

Or, to put it another way, all children need to be both born and adopted.  Birthed and chosen.  Given life and given love.  And so maybe part of what we are seeing here is God the Father doing to his only-begotten Son what all human fathers do (or should do) to their begotten children--not only have them, but choose them.  Adopt them.

Well, part of the reason the blog has been slow is that we've been preparing for the birth of our third child, and Liam was born on Wednesday morning.  So here he is:

My son, with him I am well-pleased.

Adoption Doesn't Mean Adoption

When we think of adoption today, we think of orphans.  People often adopt in order to help a child, place them in a home, provide them with love, family, and a future.  It's a wonderful, beautiful thing and I'm so glad that people adopt, and that it's a prominent thing in the church and in society.

That said, one of the things I've been somewhat surprised to learn as I have been studying the Pauline use of adoption is that when the Bible speaks of adoption, it's not talking about what we are talking about.  That's because adoption in Greco-Roman society was a completely different institution than our modern adoption model.  This is important to clarify if we are going to understand the Bible's message rightly--when the Bible talks about adoption it is NOT talking primarily about the welfare of children.

For one thing, in ancient society, most adoptees were adults, not children.  And the reason you were adopted was not because you were in need but because someone else needed you--to carry on the family name, to inherit and oversee the family estate.  As Michael Peppard puts it in his book The Son of God in the Roman World: Divine Sonship in its Social and Political Context:

"Roman adoption was not for a child to gain a home of love and care but for an adult to gain an inheritance of wealth and status.  Stated another way, it was not enacted to stabilize the life of a child, but to stabilize the future of a father." (pg 60)  For that reason, a person (usually a grown man) would only be adopted after he had proven himself a trustworthy and reliable person.

Why does this matter?  Well, it matters because if we're going to understand the Bible, we need to understand it on its own terms.  Imagine if when we read about Noah's ark, we imagined a big modern-day cruise ship?  Or if everytime we read about a shepherd we imagined a huge New Zealand sheep ranch?  To understand what the Bible is and isn't saying, we need to understand...what the Bible is and isn't saying.

So what does this mean about adoption?  Does it mean that God isn't really our father?  That we aren't supposed to adopt children?  That we shouldn't see glimpses of the gospel in the beauty of an multiethnic adoptive family?  Nope.

Here's just a few implications:

It means that when Jesus came to rescue us, to redeem us for adoption as sons and daughters, we weren't adorable little cherubic children that would tug on anyone's heartstrings. No, we were slaves, Paul says.  We were rebels.  It wasn't that we were so cute and needy and had so much potential.  It was because God is so loving and faithful and powerful to redeem lost sinners.

It also means that our adoption in Christ is due to the fact that Jesus of Nazareth earned the right to his Father's inheritance by his life of perfect obedience and sacrifical death.  Jesus is the only one who earned his place as a Son of God, but by his grace we get to share in that too as we receive his Spirit--what Paul calls "the Spirit of adoption" (Romans 8:15).

So our adoption as sons and daughters of God isn't due to our being just so inherently lovable and needy.  It was and is due to the Faithful Son, Jesus Christ, who has proven himself a worthy heir of all the Father's riches, and who reclaims us from slavery so that we can become sons and daughters.  And through us, adopted sons and daughters, the Father's name, family, and glory are extended throughout the earth.