Posts Tagged ‘God’s love’

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.  For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—  but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God.

—Romans 5:6-9

This is one of the most precious passages in Romans.  Here is some commentary from John Piper, in a sermon “The Depth of Christ’s Love: Its Undeserving Objects”

The depth of God’s love for us—and Christ’s love for us—is seen in this: when he chose to love us, even at the cost of Jesus’ life, we were not worthy of his love. In fact we were worthy of his wrath. We deserved his punishment for our sins against him. And his love is shown in this—exactly in this—that his love did not wait for any moral improvement in us. The full sacrifice was made while we were still sinners.

J.C.Ryle, with some beautiful words of encouragement from John 20:24-31

Nowhere, perhaps, in all the four Gospels, do we find this part of our Lord’s character so beautifully illustrated as in the story before our eyes. It is hard to imagine anything more tiresome and provoking than the conduct of Thomas, when even the testimony of ten faithful brethren had no effect on him, and he doggedly declared, “Except I see with my own eyes and touch with my own hands, I will not believe.” But it is impossible to imagine anything more patient and compassionate, than our Lord’s treatment of this weak disciple. He does not reject him, or dismiss him, or excommunicate him. He comes again at the end of a week, and apparently for the special benefit of Thomas. He deals with him according to his weakness, like a gentle nurse dealing with a froward child–”Reach here your finger, and behold my hands; reach here your hand, and thrust it into my side.” If nothing but the grossest, coarsest, most material evidence could satisfy him, even that evidence was supplied. Surely this was a love that passes knowledge, and a patience that passes understanding.

A passage of Scripture like this, we need not doubt, was written for the special comfort of all true believers. The Holy Spirit knew well that the dull, and the slow, and the stupid, and the doubting, are by far the commonest type of disciples in this evil world. The Holy Spirit has taken care to supply abundant evidence that Jesus is rich in patience as well as compassion, and that He bears with the infirmities of all His people. Let us take care that we drink into our Lord’s spirit, and copy His example. Let us never set down men in a low place, as gracious and godless, because their faith is feeble and their love is cold. Let us remember the case of Thomas, and be very compassionate and of tender mercy. Our Lord has many weak children in His family, many dull pupils in His school, many raw soldiers in His army, many lame sheep in His flock. Yet He bears with them all, and casts none away.

See how great a love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called children of God. 1 John 3:1

John Piper, in a sermon,”The Depth of Christ’s Love: Its Lavish Benefits”

Not only did it cost him his Son to save us from sin and death and hell (John 3:16; 1 John 3:16); and not only were we enemies so that God had to propitiate his own righteous anger in order to save us (1 John 4:10); but he went way beyond the love of rescue and the love of sacrifice and the love of clemency to his enemies. In and through all this he had a greater design. He showed us another kind of love beyond all that. He might have rescued us, sacrificed for us, forgiven us, and not gone any further. But instead he showed us another kind of love—he took us into his family. He made us to be called children of God.

Don’t take this for granted. First of all, he might not have saved us at all. He might have said, “Enemies don’t deserve saving, and that’s that.” He might have said, “My Son is too precious to pay for angels, let alone humans, let alone ungodly, rebellious humans.” But he also might have said, “I will save them from hell, and forgive their sins, and give them eternal existence—on another planet, and I will communicate with them through angels.” Nothing in us, or in the nature of the world required that God would go beyond all redeeming, forgiving, rescuing, healing love to this extreme—namely, to an adopting love. A love that will not settle for a truce, or a formal gratitude, or distant planet of material pleasure, but will press all the way in to make you a child of God. A member of the family.

More Than Adoption

But even that is not an adequate description of this kind of love. When John writes about our becoming children of God, he is not thinking mainly in terms of adoption. He is thinking in terms of something more profound. He is thinking of new birth. There is no human analogy to this. If I find a child and want to take him into my home, I cannot cause the child to be born again. I take him and I love him with the personality and temperament that he has from his biological parents. I influence with love, but I do not get into the very nature of the person and change it.

But God does. The love that John has in view here in 1 John 3:1 is not the love that merely takes care of paper work and adopts. That would be amazing beyond words—to be adopted into God’s family. And Paul does describe it this way. But John sees more. God does not adopt. He moves in, by his Spirit, his seed, John calls it, and imparts something of himself to us, so that we take on a family resemblance.

1 John 3:9 puts it like this:

No one who is born of God practices sin, because His seed abides in him; and he cannot [go on practicing] sin, because he is born of God. By this we know the children of God.

If you are a child of God this morning, you are so by adoption, yes, and by more than adoption, by new birth. 1 John 5:1 says it this way,

Whoever believes that Jesus is the Christ [has been] born of God; and whoever loves the Father loves the child born of Him.

Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.  So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was. John 11:5-6

John Piper comments on the “God-Centeredness of God”:

There is a category of thought here that I think is infinitely important. How can this be love? Clearly John wants us to ask this question.

Before Lazarus died Jesus told his disciples that his illness “is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it” (John 11:4). And after Lazarus dies and Jesus raises him from the dead he says to them, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” (John 11:40).

This makes me ask, “What were you trying to tell me here, John?” The main way John shows us what love is is by showing us that love does whatever it has to do to provide the beloved with the deepest and longest satisfaction, which is the glory of God.

“The kindness and love of God our Saviour.”—Titus 3:4

C.H. Spurgeon, in Morning and Evening:

HOW sweet it is to behold the Saviour communing with His own beloved people! There can be nothing more delightful than, by the Divine Spirit, to be led into this fertile field of delight. Let the mind for an instant consider the history of the Redeemer’s love, and a thousand enchanting acts of affection will suggest themselves, all of which have had for their design the weaving of the heart into Christ,and the intertwisting of the thoughts and emotions of the renewed soul with the mind of Jesus. When we meditate upon this amazing love, and behold the all-glorious Kinsman of the Church endowing her with all His ancient wealth, our souls may well faint for joy. 

If you are following the read-through-the-Bible plan with us, you have come to the end of Romans today. John Piper closed his sermon series on Romans with a prayer.  Here is the conclusion of that prayer,  Jesus Christ in the Book of Romans,

Embracing Your Gifts Afresh

But we turn now, Lord, from thanking you for your work to embrace afresh—perhaps some of us here for the first time—the benefits you obtained for us by your work. By faith we take them, receive them, embrace them, treasure them, knowing full well that this very gift-receiving faith is a gift (Romans 10:17).

  • We embrace the truth that we have died to sin and to the law and now belong to you alone, alive from the dead forever (Romans 6:2-5; 7:4-6).
  • We embrace afresh the forgiveness of our sins (Romans 4:6-7).
  • We embrace the reality that our condemnation is past (Romans 8:1).
  • We exult in the truth that our justifying righteousness is unshakable, because it is performed by you, not by us (Romans 5:17-19; 4:4-9).
  • We affirm with joy that you indwell us by your Spirit and are with us forever (Romans 8:10).
  • We embrace the truth that you unite us to each other in loving harmony (Romans 15:5; 12:16).
  • We hold fast the promise that we are being conformed to your image, and that your death and resurrection guarantees that this will be completed (Romans 8:28-30).
  • We receive the gift that you enable us to do significant work for the advance of your kingdom (Romans 15:18).
  • We glory in the truth that we are fellow heirs with you of all that God owns and all that God is (Romans 8:17; 4:13).
  • And we take heart that nothing can separate us from your invincible love or from the love of God the Father because of your work on our behalf (Romans 8:32-39).
  • And rooted in all of this, we receive afresh the promise of your everlasting joy. In Paul’s words, spoken to us on your behalf, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope” (Romans 15:13).

Rededication to Your Purpose for the World

And because of all this, O Lord, henceforth we dedicate ourselves again to your invincible purpose for the world. None of us knows if we will to see another Christmas Eve. That matters very little. What matters is the glory of your supreme worth, and the glory of your Father. And the upbuilding your church in unshakable faith. And the evangelization of the nations. And the salvation of perishing sinners. And to that end, we rededicate ourselves to your purpose—to spread a passion for the supremacy of God in all things for the joy of all peoples through you and the great salvation that you have accomplished. “To the only wise God be glory forevermore through Jesus Christ. Amen.”

Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the clouds.
Your righteousness is like the mountains of God;
your judgments are like the great deep;
man and beast you save, O Lord.

How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.

 

Psalm 36 dovetails with our reading from exodus 36 today, and we read more about the steadfast love, the wonderful mercy of God.  Here are Charles H. Spurgeon comments on Psalm 36:5 from the Treasury of David:

Divine mercy abides in its vastness of expanse, and matchless patience, all unaltered by the rebellions of man. When we can measure the heavens, then shall we bound the mercy of the Lord.

When we get in touch with that kind of frustration over people we want to love, care for, and encourage but who respond only with rejection or manipulation, then we are able to understand God’s anguish over the nation Israel. Hosea 11 and 12 are two of the most moving, tender chapters in the Bible. They allow us to feel the heartbeat of God’s yearning love for his people. Both of these chapters are set in the context of family life. In chapter 11, the first eleven verses, the picture is drawn of a rejected father who exercises tough love-a suffering, enduring, “in-spite-of” kind of love-toward his son. God is that Father, and the nation Israel is the son who won’t return to his Father’s love. Look at the first four verses:

When Israel was a child, I loved him,
and out of Egypt I called my son.
The more I called them,
the more they went from me;
they kept sacrificing to the Baals,
and burning incense to idols.
Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk,
I took them up in my arms,
but they did not know that I healed them.
I led them with cords of compassion,
with the bands of love,
and I became to them as one
who eases the yoke on their jaws,
and I bent down to them and fed them.

Innocent first steps

This passage recalls the innocence of the early days of the nation’s deliverance from bondage. God graciously loved his son Israel and helped him leave Egypt. Verse 2 tells us that Israel responded with rebellion: They chose new gods, violating the most basic responsibility of their covenant relationship with him: “You shall have no other gods before me” (Exodus 20:3). Verse 3 stresses how quickly Ephraim turned-as soon as he was taught to walk by his loving heavenly Father, he immediately walked away after other gods.

Don’t miss the innocent delight that the Father and his child have over these first steps. Last week I looked back through photo albums of our four children to find pictures that we had taken of their first lurching attempts to walk. The thing that struck me, on all their faces as well as Candy’s and mine, was the incredible grins stretching from ear to ear. Do you remember the first staggering steps of your children into Mama’s and Dada’s arms, and how fun it was to catch them, pick them up, and affirm their first steps?

Throughout the Scriptures, the picture of walking with God is always synonymous with trusting and obeying him. Yahweh had called Ephraim to be like Enoch, Noah, and the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who had all learned to walk with God.

A vital part of God’s teaching in their life was to bring them back to health after the bondage they had experienced for four hundred years in Egypt, so that they could walk in strength. Verse 4 is a beautiful image of how their Father God lifted that yoke of bondage and led Ephraim with a compassionate, guiding hand and with a band of love, not the control of a harness with a bit. We also see the picture of their heavenly Father stooping down to their level to meet their needs, feeding them tenderly-remember how God provided the manna in the wilderness.

But these memories of Ephraim’s early years couldn’t deny the reality of what the grown children had become. So verses 5-7 deal with the painful necessity of judgment or punishment-the reality of the consequences that sin always has:

They shall return to the land of Egypt,
and Assyria shall be their king,
because they have refused to return to me.
The sword shall rage against their cities,
consume the bars of their gates,
and devour them in their fortresses
[or because of their schemes or counsels].
My people are bent on turning away from me;
so they are appointed to the yoke,
and none shall remove it.

Growing up and facing the consequences

As we have seen before in our studies in Hosea, Egypt is a symbol of re-entering bondage. Because of the nation’s disloyalty to the covenant, they will be returned to the kind of slavery to sin from which they have already been delivered. The reason for judgment is not just the sin of apostasy with the Baals, nor their schemes or counsels (verse 6), but their persistent refusal to return or repent; their commitment to turning away from God. There is only sadness in Yahweh‘s description of this forthcoming doom and destruction. As I was working through this I could see the invasion unfolding, the Assyrian armies wiping out city after city; and God standing as a lonely figure, watching with hands clasped behind his back, biting his lip in self-imposed restraint. He is refusing to invade their stubbornness with some sort of hasty intervention that would deny his people the opportunity to grow up through facing the consequences of their rebellion and sin.

God’s forgiving grace

In verses 8-9 God directly and personally appeals to his people. The emotion and pent-up grace in his heart are expressed in beautiful poetry:

How can I give you up, O Ephraim!
How can I hand you over, O Israel!
How can I make you like Admah!
How can I treat you like Zeboiim!
My heart recoils within me,
my compassion grows warm and tender.
I will not execute my fierce anger,
I will not again destroy Ephraim;
for I am God and not man,
the Holy One in your midst,
and I will not come to destroy.

Here is the glory of God’s grace at work. That is why he doesn’t give up on Israel, or on us. Our hope is based on the faithfulness of God regardless of our unfaithfulness to him. The words of these two verses weave together strands of his unqualified grace into a band of love, a cord of compassion that slips around our wandering hearts. God is relentlessly loving, and his love won’t let his people go. Although he does have to judge and punish them, he can never finally give up on them or hand them over to total destruction. He can’t do to Ephraim what he did to the two cities mentioned, Admah and Zeboiim. These were cities that were totally destroyed on the plain of Sodom and Gomorrah (see Genesis 14; 19). The people aren’t going to receive the obliteration they deserve. After the destruction of the land by the Assyrians, the Lord will begin the process of restoring his people.

This passage tells us that God’s holiness is foundational to his love. God isn’t vindictive, but righteous in his judgment. His punishment is remedial. And overwhelmingly his forgiving grace is at work. His purpose in all the circumstances is reconciliation. And he says it is because he is not like man; he is not controlled by the “quid pro quo” of human nature. His holiness and forgiving love will ultimately bring his people back to the land.

Ray Stedman comments on the first 3 chapters of Hosea:

So Hosea is rather discouraged and in the opening chapter of this little book of prophecy we read a personal note about him. He went to God and God told him to do a strange thing. God said, “I want you to get married.” I think Hosea brightened up at that, because he was a bachelor, and God said, “I have a girl picked out for you.” When he mentioned her name, Hosea’s heart must have fluttered, because the name of this girl was Gomer, the most beautiful girl in Israel. Hosea was definitely interested.

But God said to him, “I want you to know the whole story about this girl. I want you to marry her, but she is going to be unfaithful to you; in fact, she will become nothing but a common street prostitute. But I want you to marry her anyway.” Now undoubtedly Hosea was very puzzled by God’s strange command just as Abraham was puzzled by God’s command that he take his son out and kill him, put his own son to death. God does strange things at times, things we don’t always understand, things we can’t categorize, things that don’t fit into what we think we know of him. And this is one of those strange things. He told Hosea, “I want you to marry this girl and she is going to be a harlot, a common street prostitute. But you are going to have three children, two boys and a girl. And when they are born I want to name them for you. ” Perhaps Hosea then began to understand a little bit of what God was doing. He knew it was customary in Israel to teach by symbols — God often used this method of instructing his people — and that names were very important. God often used the meanings of names to teach Israel certain truths. And now God was planning to use this prophet and his family as an object lesson for his people.

This was happening also with his friend Isaiah down in the Southern Kingdom. Isaiah, also, had two boys. Their names are jaw-breakers to pronounce, but they mean something. The younger boy’s name was Shearjashub, which means “a remnant shall return.” That was God’s promise to Israel that even though they were taken into captivity, a remnant would come back. The older boy’s name was Mahershalalhashbaz. I don’t know how they ever called these children in for lunch in those days. Mahershalalhashbaz means “haste to the prey” or “haste to the spoil,” and it was God’s prophetic way of telling the nation that they were in deep trouble. But he also comforted them with the words “a remnant shall return.”

So Hosea went courting. Sure enough, Gomer was attracted to this shy young man, and at last he summoned up the courage to ask her to marry him. To his great relief, she said yes, and they were married. At first it was heaven on earth. Hosea loved this girl. You can’t read this prophecy without seeing that. They must have been wonderfully happy together, and then they had their first child. It was a boy, as God had said. Hosea’s heart was filled to bursting, and he went to God for the name of this boy. “What should we name the lad?” To his surprise, God picked the name Jezreel. Now Jezreel means “cast-away” and was a name of shame in Israel. Do you remember the bloody story of Queen Jezebel and Ahab? Ahab cheated his neighbor out of his property and stole his neighbor’s vineyard, and Jezebel was the wicked queen who put him up to it. At last God’s judgment fell upon her. She was looking out her upper story window one day when a general, Jehu, was down in the courtyard, and he ordered the servants to throw Jezebel out the window. They threw her out and she fell on the pavement and was killed, and the dogs ate her up, and the courtyard has been called Jezreel ever since. (2 Kings 9:30-37)

Nevertheless, that was the name that God picked for Hosea’s oldest boy, his first son. And that was the name Hosea gave to his baby, for he understood that God was thus warning his people: they too would be cast away if they didn’t recognize the folly of their actions, if they didn’t turn from going after idols and giving way to abominable practices and trying to be like everybody else around them. God was warning them with this baby’s name.

In the course of time, another child. a daughter, was born to Hosea. This one was named Loruhamah, which means “not pitied.” Imagine naming your little baby girl “not pitied.” It meant that God would no longer have pity on his people if they continued their stubborn rebellion. His patience was wearing thin. After some hundreds of years of trying to reach this stubborn people, he was now warning them that they w ere getting near the end. that a time would come when he would no longer pity them but would hand them over to invading armies.

When this little girl was weaned, Gomer conceived again and bore a third child, another little boy. And this one God named Loammi, “not my people,” for God was saying, “you are not my people and I will not be your God.” God had said that he would name these children as a sign to his people, but there would come a day of restoration:

“And I will have pity on Not-Pitied,
and I will say to Not-My-People,
‘You are my people;’
and he shall say, ‘Thou art my God.’”
(Hosea 2:23 RSV)

So that even in this time when God was announcing judgment. His grace also was being shown.

Now after this there were no more children in Hosea’s household. and Gomer began to fulfill the sad prediction that God had made when he had told Hosea to marry her. What a heartbreak it must have been to this young preacher as he heard the whispers that began to circulate about his wife and about what happened when he was away on preaching trips. Perhaps even his own children may have unconsciously dropped some remarks about the men who visited when Daddy was away. And soon the children were left uncared for while Gomer wasted all her time running around with these other fellows.

One day Hosea came home and found a note from Gomer: she had decided to find the happiness she felt she deserved, and she was leaving him and the children to follow the man she really loved. You know how those notes go: “Dear John…”

About this time a new tone came into Hosea’s preaching. He still warned of the judgment to come and the fact that God was going to send the Assyrians down across the land, but no longer did he announce it with thunder. He spoke to them with tears. And he began to speak of a day when love would at last triumph, when — after the bitter lesson was learned that the way of the transgressor is hard — Israel would yet turn back to the God who loved her. Instead of “Not pitied,” she would be called “Pitied” and instead of “Not my people,” she would be named “My people” again.

But poor Gomer passed from man to man, until at last she fell into the hands of a man who was unable to pay for her food and her clothing. Her first lover had given her a mink stole, but this one made her clothe herself from the Goodwill store. News of her miserable state came to the prophet and he sought out the man she was living with. He knew where he would find him, down at the local tavern, and when he met this man, the conversation may have gone something like this. “Are you the man who is living with Gomer, daughter of Diblaim?” The man must have said, “If it’s any of your business, I am.” Hosea said, “Well, I am Hosea, her husband.” A tense moment followed. But the man said, “What do you want? I haven’t done anything wrong.” Hosea said, “Listen, I’m not interested in causing any trouble. But I know that you are having difficulty making ends meet. I want you to take this money and buy Gomer some clothing and see that she has plenty of food. If you need any more I will give it to you.” The man probably must have thought, “There’s no fool like an old fool. If this sucker wants to help pay her expenses, that’s all right with me.” So he took the money and bought her Some groceries and went home.

Now you may say, “That’s a foolish thing for a man to do”‘ But who can explain the madness of love? Love exists apart from reason and has its own reasons. Love does not act according to logic. Love acts according to its own nature. And so Hosea acted on the basis of love. Undoubtedly he watched from a distance to catch a glimpse of the woman he loved as she rushed out the door to take the groceries from this man’s arms and to thank him for w hat he was bringing to her — the gifts that true love had provided, and that villainy offered, and that folly accepted.

Well, how long this went on we don’t know for sure, but at last word came that the woman Hosea loved was to be sold in the slave market. Her current husband had tired of her and she w as to be sold as a slave. The brokenhearted prophet didn’t know what to do. He went weeping to God. And God said. “Hosea, do you love this woman in spite of all that she has done to you?” Hosea nodded through his tears, and God said. “Then go show your love for her in the same way that I love the nation Israel.”

So Hosea went to the marketplace and he watched Gomer brought up and placed on the dock and there she was stripped of all her clothing and stood naked before the crowd. The auctioneer pinched her and prodded her and showed how strong she was, and then the bidding began. Somebody bid three pieces of silver and Hosea raised it to five. Somebody else upped it to eight and Hosea bid ten. Somebody went to eleven; he went to twelve. Then Hosea offered fifteen pieces of silver and a bushel of barley. The auctioneer’s gavel fell and Hosea had his wife back.

He went to her and put her clothes on her and he led her away by the hand and took her to his home. And then follows what is perhaps the most beautiful verse in all the Bible. As Hosea led her away he said to her:

“You must dwell as mine for many days; you shall not play the harlot, or belong to another man; so will I also be to you.” (Hosea 3:3b RSV)

He pledged his love to her anew. And that was all this poor woman could take. She had gotten down to the very dregs of shame and disgrace, but the love of this man broke her heart, and from this time on Gomer was faithful to Hosea. She became an honest. industrious, faithful wife, and the rest of the book of Hosea simply goes on to tell the effect of this story on the nation of Israel — God said to them. “How can I give thee up?’ He reminded them of his love for them all those years. He reminded them of his goodness, and of how again and again they had turned their backs on him. The final picture of the book is one of beauty and glory, for it looks to the day when Israel shall at last return to God — her true husband — and shall say, “What have I to do with idols? I have seen him and heard him and he has won my heart.”

See how great a love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called children of God. 1 John 3:1

John Piper, in a sermon,”The Depth of Christ’s Love: Its Lavish Benefits”

Not only did it cost him his Son to save us from sin and death and hell (John 3:16; 1 John 3:16); and not only were we enemies so that God had to propitiate his own righteous anger in order to save us (1 John 4:10); but he went way beyond the love of rescue and the love of sacrifice and the love of clemency to his enemies. In and through all this he had a greater design. He showed us another kind of love beyond all that. He might have rescued us, sacrificed for us, forgiven us, and not gone any further. But instead he showed us another kind of love—he took us into his family. He made us to be called children of God.

Don’t take this for granted. First of all, he might not have saved us at all. He might have said, “Enemies don’t deserve saving, and that’s that.” He might have said, “My Son is too precious to pay for angels, let alone humans, let alone ungodly, rebellious humans.” But he also might have said, “I will save them from hell, and forgive their sins, and give them eternal existence—on another planet, and I will communicate with them through angels.” Nothing in us, or in the nature of the world required that God would go beyond all redeeming, forgiving, rescuing, healing love to this extreme—namely, to an adopting love. A love that will not settle for a truce, or a formal gratitude, or distant planet of material pleasure, but will press all the way in to make you a child of God. A member of the family.

More Than Adoption

But even that is not an adequate description of this kind of love. When John writes about our becoming children of God, he is not thinking mainly in terms of adoption. He is thinking in terms of something more profound. He is thinking of new birth. There is no human analogy to this. If I find a child and want to take him into my home, I cannot cause the child to be born again. I take him and I love him with the personality and temperament that he has from his biological parents. I influence with love, but I do not get into the very nature of the person and change it.

But God does. The love that John has in view here in 1 John 3:1 is not the love that merely takes care of paper work and adopts. That would be amazing beyond words—to be adopted into God’s family. And Paul does describe it this way. But John sees more. God does not adopt. He moves in, by his Spirit, his seed, John calls it, and imparts something of himself to us, so that we take on a family resemblance.

1 John 3:9 puts it like this:

No one who is born of God practices sin, because His seed abides in him; and he cannot [go on practicing] sin, because he is born of God. By this we know the children of God.

If you are a child of God this morning, you are so by adoption, yes, and by more than adoption, by new birth. 1 John 5:1 says it this way,

Whoever believes that Jesus is the Christ [has been] born of God; and whoever loves the Father loves the child born of Him.