We are claimed as children of God—children with lots of room to grow! It’s easy to see the gap between who we are and who God calls us to be, but the Holy Spirit is at work transforming us as we live into the identity God bestows upon us.
Here’s the sermon for the third Sunday of Easter, April 18, 2021. Today’s Scripture readings are 1 John 3:1-7 & Luke 24:36b-48. This week, I found helpful Ronald Cole-Turner’s essay on page 420 of Feasting on the Word, Year B as well as Karl Jacobsen’s definition of “sanctification” in the excellent book Crazy Talk: A Not-So-Stuffy Dictionary of Theological Terms.
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the risen Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen
When I was in seminary, I was warned that when a pastor has children, there is a temptation for him or her to make every sermon illustrations about their children.
At the time I smiled and nodded and said of course not, but you know what? Having a kid is great for sermon illustrations!
And now that I’m consciously trying to not inflict stories about Micah on you every week, I’m noticing how often the Bible uses parent and child imagery to describe our relationship with God. So this week, I’m just going with it.
Recently, Micah’s been in this new stage where he has figured out that objects have names and he wants to know what everything is called. So he’ll pick up something and hold it out for you to tell him, then he’ll put it down and pick up the next thing. So, [red ball], [animal book], [tv remote].
He’s got the names down for most of his toys, and he can’t say them, but if you say, “Micah, can you get your monkey?” he’ll go get the stuffed monkey and hold it up for you. It’s very cute.
But it’s a gradual process. He’s got this set of brightly colored stacking cups, and every time he holds one up, which is multiple times per day, we’ll say, “Yellow cup!” “Green cup!” or “Red cup!” Then you can say, “Micah, go get your red cup,” and he will.
Great, he’s learning his colors! What a smart kid! And then you say, “Micah, can you get your green cup?” And he’ll happily hold up the red one. Or a monkey.
Every time I think he’s got his colors down, he’ll enthusiastically grab the wrong one. He’s making lots of progress, but he’s not there yet. He doesn’t have it figured out nearly as much as I’d like him to.
I suspect that’s how God feels about us. 1 John 3 says we are children of God, which is really good news. This is our identity. What a wonderful gift from God!
But then a few verses later, it continues, “No one who abides in God sins; no one who sins has either seen him or known him.”
That’s the goal, right? The goal of life as a Christian is to get to that place of abiding in Jesus, dwelling with God, so filled with the Holy Spirit that we no longer sin.
We want to be so confident, so full of faith, so trusting in God for life and salvation and everything we need that we simply are who God created us to be.
Do you know the word “sanctification”? It’s a church word we Lutherans tend not to use much, but it’s an important concept. Sanctification is the process of transforming from a sinner to a saint, the process of growing more and more holy, more like Jesus.
Someone suggested sanctification is like wearing braces, where eventually, after enough time and pain, your overbite straightens out and your teeth are properly aligned, the way they’re supposed to be.
It’s a gradual process of becoming less sinful, more the way God intends you to be, that place of righteous purity.
Some Christians believe you can see sanctification happening, and that if you work at it hard enough, you can get there, you can get to be holy.
We Lutherans are more cautious of talking about sanctification, I think because we tend to be more realistic, about how sinful we are and how broken the world is. We follow Martin Luther’s insight that we are sinners until death. Sanctification won’t be complete this side of heaven.
As long as we’re alive and breathing, no matter how good we get at finding the red cup, no matter how much we practice and work at it, sometimes we’re going to slip and grab the yellow cup instead. It’s who we are as people; captive, in bondage to sin.
But even in our sinful nature, God is still working on us. What we will be, John says, has not yet been revealed. God’s not done with us. See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. That is what you are. Both saints redeemed and claimed by God, and sinners who keep sinning for our whole life. Saint and sinner, both at once.
Living a child of God doesn’t mean being perfect; that’s impossible. But to be a Christian is accept this identity, to agree to let God raise you, to let God transform you in a way that will make you different than the world.
In baptism, you are adopted out of the world’s way of living and into God’s family. You might not always look like a child of God. You may not always act like God’s child (in fact, it’s a guarantee that you won’t). You won’t live up to the family name. You may not get along with or even like all the other people in this family. But you have been loved into God’s family. You belong. God wants to be in a relationship with you.
It’s easy to see the places where we fall short. Maybe it’s grabbing the wrong colored cup.
Maybe it’s dramatic sins like murder or theft, or more likely, it’s making choices out of selfishness or fear, putting ourselves ahead of our neighbors, trusting in ourselves and our own efforts rather than in God, wrong things we do and good things we leave undone.
It doesn’t take much effort to see the gap between God’s goodness and us.
Perhaps Lutherans are particularly good at seeing this gap, with the way we remember and confess our sin each week, and our understanding that nothing we can ever do can bring us closer to God. We can’t save ourselves by our own efforts; we can’t even work on our own sanctification.
We need God’s help; we rely on the work of the Holy Spirit to make any progress at all. We see the gap between the way we are and the way we’re created to be, the gaps of a world that’s obviously broken.
I suspect that’s where the disciples were in our Gospel story today. I think the gaps where they fell short were really obvious to them on that first Easter night.
They know Jesus is alive again, and obviously, they’re excited about that, they’re excited to see him again, but they’re still uncertain. I think they’re ashamed.
Think about what had happened: These people had abandoned him, not believed him, run away, even denied knowing him.
So when they see the living Jesus, they’re startled and terrified. Even after he’s shown them his hands and his feet, Luke says “In their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering.” It’s too good to be true. But Jesus still comes to them. Jesus still offers them peace.
After everything they’d done (and failed to do), after he’s out of the tomb, Jesus comes and stands among them, and he keeps on teaching them. He opens their mind to understand the scriptures, explaining what had happened, explaining what they really ought to already know, because he’d told them before.
And as we find out when we keep reading, they still don’t understand everything.
Oh, they understand more than before, but they’ll keep growing and learning. There’s no graduation here. They’ll keep fighting and arguing about silly things even though they’re witnesses to the resurrection, even after Jesus has ascended into heaven and they’re leading the church. They make progress, but they don’t get it all.
Just like us. And that’s ok. Because the tomb is empty and Jesus is alive and even though we don’t understand it all yet, our Heavenly Father names us children of God.
Even though we have lots of room to grow in faith and love and knowledge and understanding, the Holy Spirit is at work. We are learning. We may not see where we’re going. What we will be has not yet been revealed. We’re not there yet.
But what we know is that the Holy Spirit is working on us—working on you—making you more loving, more faithful, more like Jesus.
Because of Easter, we know that even though we still live in a sinful world—even though we still sin, even though death is real—because of Easter we know how the story ends. Jesus wins. Death is defeated.
It’s easy to see where we fall short, but don’t get stuck looking at your sins and failures. Open your eyes to see God’s forgiveness and love for you.
Yes, everyone who commits sin is guilty, but Jesus was revealed to take away sins, and in him there is no sin. Let no one deceive you: God loves you. You are God’s child now; what you will be has not yet been revealed, but what we know is this: God’s kingdom is coming, and when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is.
May the peace of God, which passes all human understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Amen