The Borne Identity (Galatians 4: 1-7) 8/5/12

 

         

In 1980, Robert Ludlum published a spy thriller novel entitled The Bourne Identity. It was the first of a trilogy of spy novels that became immensely popular and were eventually made into movies. On the silver screen, Matt Damon portrayed David Webb, a young Foreign Service officer stationed in Cambodia, whose wife and children were killed in an undeclared air strike. In his bitterness and confusion, Webb becomes an officer in the U.S. Army. He goes on to become the most successful paramilitary officer in the Army, a polite way of saying that he is a trained assassin.  He is given the name Jason Bourne and he becomes known as “Cain,” You will remember the name of Cain from the Bible as the man who killed his own brother. The movie plot develops around the attempted murder of Jason. A fishing boat crew happens upon him floating face down in the ocean and rescues him. He is suffering from amnesia. As Jason battles with would-be assassins and intrigue while he attempts to discover his identity, the audience is treated to his odyssey toward the truth. Who is this man? Is he Jason Bourne? Is he “Cain?” Is he David Webb? Regardless of the label, none of them disclose to him who he really is. What is the Bourne identity? Who is he and to whom is he connected?

The same year that Robert Ludlum was publishing The Bourne Identity, I was a bit busy myself. It was April. The bloom of promise and the rich new smells and colors that come with spring were everywhere. It was a Friday afternoon. The phone rang at my office. A Social Services worker on the line said she had good news; that our baby girl was waiting for us. Our adoption petition had been granted.

Our baby girl! Just like that. In the space of a weekend, we became parents. Our church threw us an “emergency” baby shower and we picked up our daughter. She came complete with two photographs of her first week of life, blue eyes and eyelashes long enough to be sinful. That was it. Bring your own diapers. We named her Rebekah, and then we set out to discover, and to help define, her identity. Who was she? To whom would she become connected?

Much as Jason Bourne searched through the cobwebs of his amnesia-stricken mind for the answers that would unlock the key to his identity, we watched Rebekah over the years as she puzzled and reasoned and searched her heart to find herself. But the task of finding one’s identity is not unique, nor is it confined to those legally adopted or suffering from amnesia. Far from it. The task of finding one’s identity is there for each of us to undertake. Who are we? To whom will we become connected?

The churches of first century Galatia also faced this problem of identity. So did the Corinthians and the Colossians and the Ephesians. So do the Protestant and Catholic churches of today. So do those who attend no church. So do those who profess no faith, no belief system. Who are we? To whom do we belong? How and to whom are we connected?

The apostle Paul has an answer for the churches under his care. He tells the Galatians that there is only one gospel. He tells them that they are justified by faith through the grace of God. He asks them to put on Christ like they would put on clothes; to wear him as they would their own skin. Then he tells them that if they belong to Christ, they are heirs. Paul is talking about adoption.

The concept of adoption was even more frequent and important in Roman society than it is today. Adoption was understood well enough that Paul used it five different times in his Biblical writing to illustrate the relationship between God and his people. Theologian Everett Ferguson tells us that the person adopted in first century Roman society “was taken out of his previous condition, all old debts were cancelled, and he started a new life in the relation of sonship to the new parent, whose family name he took and to whose inheritance he was entitled.” 1 It could happen at any age. It was a legal act attested by witnesses. Adoption law has changed very little in this regard since the days of Roman rule.   

Paul tells the Galatian Christians that they are heirs of God himself. They are heirs of the promise that God made to Abraham. They are heirs of the promise! Jesus comes to redeem them and they receive adoption. They are God’s children and because of that, they also receive the Spirit of God’s Son into their hearts. They are no longer slaves to the law, to sin, to their own selfishness. They are sons and daughters, heirs of God himself! And once adopted, the status is irreversible. One cannot un-adopt a child any more than he or she can deny the paternity of a blood related child. You can repudiate the relationship, but you cannot change its existence.  Paul reminds the Galatian Christians that in order to receive this greatest of all unions, all it takes is faith. His words speak as powerfully to the church today as they did so long ago. Through faith in Christ Jesus we are all sons of God.

          On her twenty first birthday, I wrote a poem for my daughter Rebekah. Actually, I think I wrote it more for me than her. I wanted a reminder of what God had done for me. One of the verses goes like this:

                   Once upon a prayer,

                   Born of earth and borne to him

She came,

And now, upon that prayer renewed,

She goes forth, born to the world.

The word “born” is like so many other words in our language. It has one pronunciation, but several spellings and uses. In the movie it was a proper name spelled B-o-u-r-n-e. In my poem, it has two more spellings. One is b-o-r-n, meaning one who is given birth. The last one is spelled b-o-r-n-e-, which can mean “to carry”. Being borne, or carried, becomes a familiar and welcome theme for the person seeking Christian identity.

          Identity can be as tricky as the words we use to describe it. Who are you? To whom are you connected? Are you like David, the young diplomat who let his bitterness change his personality? Are you like Jason, who came to be known by reputation as Cain, the taker of life? Are you like the new Jason, the man who found his real identity and wanted to know more?

          Galatians 4 reminds us that all that the heavy lifting has already been done. If we have faith we are adopted. If we are adopted we are in the family. Once when my first two children, only eleven months apart, were very young, I was pushing them around the block in a stroller. A woman came up to me, admiring the two blonde headed blued eyes toddlers. She complimented them and asked me: “Which one is your real daughter?” She got the only answer a real father would ever give: both! Take it from one who knows; there is no difference. The heart of a parent rises and falls for every child under his or her wing. It is not their DNA that matters. They are part of us because we have claimed them as our own. Paul reminds us that we only borrow that concept from God. He is the author of those feelings.

          Adoption is a two way street. Yes, God, or a parent, adopts the child. In the legal sense, it is a one-way process. But there is more to it than that. Along the way, the child adopts you right back. Law gives way to something much higher, much deeper. No papers are signed, no gavel is banged, but it happens. What starts out as an act of one becomes a mutual bond. Ask Rebekah. She’s not just my daughter. I’m her Daddy! Paul says as much in verse 6: “and because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying ‘Abba! Father!’ ”

I can still remember the feeling I had when they handed me that precious bundle of life. There was fullness in my heart that words cannot describe. Imagine what our heavenly father feels when we give our hearts to him. He loves us with a depth we cannot fathom and waits patiently for us to discover that he is our true parent.

Heirs redeemed in adoption as sons, with the Spirit of his Son sent into our hearts! This is God’s promise to us, articulated by the apostle Paul. Claim it. Claim it all! It just does not get any better than this. 

1 Backgrounds of Early Christianity, Third Edition, p. 65.