The Family of God: Who's In?

Adoption into the family of God is a beautiful thing, but how do we know who our relatives are? In my last blog post I wrote about finding Christian brothers and sisters during my time in Costa Rica. These heart-encouraging friends came as a refreshing contrast to those who didn’t believe as I do. But while these friends definitely felt like fellow adopted brothers and sisters, other acquaintances seemed like distant cousins. How do I know if they’re even in the body of Christ? Are they just odd family members or are they posers? Since we’re all adopted, it’s hard to tell who is in the family and who’s not (if anyone’s excluded…).

Now I need to say very clearly: I don’t claim to know who is in the family of God.

I can’t know who’s in God’s family, because I’m not God; that’s why this post is difficult for me to write. Yet I do know what God has revealed to us about the adoption process and the signs for who’s in the fam.

Who’s in?

The Bible explains that through our sin and disobedience to God, humankind was separated from God. “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all,” says 1 John 1:5. God had to separate us from Himself once we took on the impurity of sin, and there is no way we can overcome the distance by ourselves. Because of our sin, the only possible result for a righteous God was punishment with death. “But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even while we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved,” explains Ephesians 2:4-5, revealing the beautiful redemption we can receive through Jesus Christ who died for us. 

So how do we get adopted? “Through Jesus Christ,” says Ephesians, in accordance with God’s pleasure and will. God wants us to be his family, and we can be… if we accept the offer. Jesus already died in our place, but the Bible tells us we must also humbly turn from sin—having faith that being in God’s family is worth following Jesus. 1 John 1:9 explains that “if we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” The simple but monumental step is the good news offered to us called the Gospel. I write about it often, but only because I can tell no more important story.

Okay, so I get it… I believe that Jesus died for my sins and rose from the dead. Now what? How do you know I’m in?

Well, that’s the tough part. We’ve all known way too many “Christians” who don’t act any different than anyone else. Yet the Apostle James says that “faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” We’re supposed to be able to tell Christians apart because they obey the word of God—loving others, denying themselves, living generously. Jesus said, 

Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other.

Christians are supposed to be marked by love. Historically, we often have been—Christians stand up for human life even when it’s mangled, imperfect, old, deformed, or dangerous to do so. Christians give up comforts to serve the poor. Christians die for the message they believe.

Addressing Christian Universalism

Why are not all people in the family of God? Why isn’t everyone saved? These are some difficult questions I’ve come to wrestle with through interactions here in Guatemala. Christian Universalism holds that all people will ultimately be reconciled God without any eternal punishment for sin. The view is extremely appealing. Who wants to believe that people are going to hell? Doesn’t that make God seem unloving?

The questions are weighty; answers are not easy. Exclusivism is quite distasteful. Last week I sat in a metal school building discussing these ideas with a friend. As distant sunlight trickled in through the door across dusty concrete floors, we both felt the burden of differing theologies/beliefs about God and salvation.

Looking to the Bible for truth, I’ve been studying Romans—a book I feel intimidated by for its dense theology. Romans 8 says, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” For those who are in Christ Jesus. In Christ Jesus. Everyone? No, it doesn’t seem so. Saint Paul writes that “Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him.” Hmm. He isn’t condemning anyone; instead, he is making clear that there is no condemnation for those adopted into the family of God through Christ.

Paul is rejoicing in the grace given to those of us who believe. I still must soberly ask, what about the others? Will they not be saved? Why not? In the next chapter of Romans, Paul writes:

What shall we say then? Is there injustice on God’s part? By no means! For he says to Moses, “I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.” So then it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy.

God chooses who will receive mercy? It seems unfair to my human way of thinking. I wish Paul wrote more about those who are not in Christ Jesus. Doesn’t the Bible also say that God “is the Savior of all people,” and “love never fails”? These are tough questions, yet I have to humbly hear Paul’s caution: “Who are you, O man, to answer back to God?” I’m limited in my thinking by my humanity. I don’t understand the ways of God; but if His Word says some receive mercy and some don’t, I have to stop questioning at some point and believe. I know belief in condemnation is not popular. I know it’s not “tolerant” of other religions and beliefs. I think I’d rather believe all will ultimately be saved, but the idea doesn’t sit well with me.

I feel that universalism sucks the power out of the Gospel. If all will ultimately be saved, what’s the point in belief? What’s the point in following God in this life? Why all the talk about faith and belief in the Bible? Why all the commands? Wouldn’t it be easier to say, “Enjoy life and the fact you’re all okay.”?

If all will ultimately be saved, I’m wasting my life trying to tell others about what I believe. It’s that simple; the point of Christian Universalism is pivotal for me. If I’m wrong, which I very well could be, then I’m causing people unnecessary trouble by preaching this Gospel. If I’m wrong, then I’m giving my heart unnecessary burden by praying for “the unsaved.”  But if my beliefs are in line with truth, then I absolutely ought to tell anyone I can that salvation is available to them. I absolutely ought to be less “open-minded,” because one way will prove to be right in the end. I’ve put all my chips in trusting Jesus Christ.     

So there it is. I’m a mere human, so I don’t entirely understand the work of God. I appeal to the Bible because I don’t have anything else to hold on to. I don’t have any experience of the afterlife or any view into heaven. What I do have is what I believe to be the Word of God given to us in a written form, and it’s truer than anything else I’ve ever read. God is God. I am not. Jesus tells us the mysteries of God are such that He has “hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children.” Ultimately I have to trust God as my Father and rest in gratitude for the grace I’ve been given.

The Family of God

The body of Christ, as we call the community of those who believe in Jesus Christ, is more than a social group. A body is an intimately united and complex whole made of symbiotic parts. We need each other in the body of Christ; we by necessity have mutual dependence. We are family. I love being in my community with other believers in the United States, but this summer had a different objective for me.

I chose to spend last month alone in Costa Rica. I came by myself. I rented a small, isolated house for solitude. Even so, I wasn’t trying to cut myself off from the Body of Christ. I need community. Coming to Costa Rica alone helped me experience Christian community in a new way, as I recount in the following observations and stories…

When I am in a more secular context, the joy I feel when I meet Christians around the world is increased.
When I find an English speaker, especially with a warm American accent, after having to communicate in Spanish or with body language, I can talk at ease; similar is the peace I find in conversation with another believer. Like the pride I feel for my country gazing upon the embassy of the United States of America, so the confidence I feel in my faith looking at a cathedral. We feel a connection with things familiar to us more poignantly while in a foreign context, but the connection to other Christians goes deeper--a connection of souls. 

Characteristics of the Family

The community of those who profess a belief in Jesus Christ is a family. We use familial terms—brother, sister, mother, father. We operate in a gift economy; we give tithes and gifts generously without requiring reciprocity. These are not commercial transactions (and shouldn’t be, for the church loses her identity when she becomes a business).

In the family of God we can immediately trust each other and desire to get to know each other, even if we’ve never met, just as you extend yourself to someone who shares your blood and DNA at a family reunion. Churches are like the homes of my relatives—I’m welcome there, as if I belong and have part-ownership.

I went to a couple of churches for a few weeks in a Costa Rican city near the Jungle House. No churches there were in English, so I found it a bit hard to follow the sermons and communicate with others. But I did find joy in the one day a week where I had an immediate community of people I’d never met. The Iglesias helped give me a sense of what the Lord told the Apostle Paul in Acts: “For I have many in this city who are my people” (18:10).

Unexpected Brothers

One evening after watching the sunset on the beach, a young, Californian surfer dude took notice of my Biola shirt. Immediately we were in a greatly encouraging conversation, discovering commonality of purpose in being here to learn God’s Word and sharing a joy for getting to be a part of His mission. I never saw James again, but our exchange heartened my spiritual life all week. Perhaps the best part of meeting James was that he introduced me to another “hermano”—a brother in Christ—Juan, whose fruit stand we had been standing under.

Juan, a middle-aged Tico with a loveable potbelly and a gentle, irresistible smile in a stubble beard, quietly moves around his frutería as he works and interacts with buyers and sellers. One day while waiting for the bus I ducked under Juan’s canopy to avoid the rain and buy a plantain. I asked him very simply in Spanish, “So you believe in Jesus Christ?” His answer, as he put his hand over his heart and his eyes teared up with deepest sincerity, I will never forget: “Es mi todo.” When Juan, a man of few words, said “He’s my all,” he conveyed that Jesuscristo is all he lives for, all that has sustained him through hardship, all his hope in life. I’m trying to make him my all too.

On another beach day, after talking with different people searching for spiritual significance apart from the God of the Bible, I stopped by Juan’s fruit stand and with sadness mentioned to him, “There aren’t many Christians around here.” Juan was the only other Christian I knew in town. He nodded with understanding, then gave me a reply that was the exact encouragement I needed, quoting Jesus’ words: “Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I with them” (Matthew 18:20). That’s powerful. Even with different languages, cultures, backgrounds and ages, Juan and I had in each other a bond in Jesus Christ that stirs the soul.

The Search for Donald

The day I was discouraged by the lack of Christians in my little surfer beach town, I had actually been hoping to find a missionary from the U.S. who I’d heard about through a new neighbor. She said Donald and his young family helped transform a small community with love and described something about this family of Christians made her take notice. I was so desperate to find the brother in Christ I’d even asked a random guy at the coffee shop if he was Donald, perchance, thinking he matched the description I’d been given. I prayed the entire week that somehow I’d be able to meet Donald. I needed the encouragement of my family in Christ.

On the eve of leaving my quiet corner of Costa Rica, I walked along the beach and stared out at where the river pushes itself into the ocean with colliding currents and waves. As the rains came and soaked my body and my jeans, I stood questioning why God wouldn’t let me meet Donald. I don’t know what gave me such a strong desire to find him, but I felt confident I would meet him and had not been able to. His phone hadn’t work when I’d tried to call; I couldn’t find him in the streets of the small beach town. Now I was wet and discouraged.

Finally, the morning I was to take buses back to the capital, San José, I tried Donald’s number one more time. He picked up. I told him of our mutual friend, and inquired if we could meet before my afternoon bus. He told me he would be leading a basketball camp the next town over from the hostel where I’d stayed. Perfect! I walked the 4 kilometers to the school and came up to the group as complete stranger. But I was warmly welcomed by a pastor from the mission trip group working with Donald. I got to meet the team of Americans from a Baptist church in Georgia and talk with a few of their pastors—Oh how encouraging! I walked into a family reunion after only expecting to find one brother!

Eventually I did get to meet Donald. With great gratitude to God, I got to share with Donald a love for Costa Rica and a heart for the people. Donald isn’t a missionary superstar; he’s more than aware he hasn’t been to seminary and his Spanish isn’t great. He calls himself an amateur, but humility is exactly what makes Donald exceptional. He’s a guy from the pews who followed his faith to the point of packing up his family and moving to a foreign country to love people with the good news of Jesus Christ. He’s faithful, and he has a heart for people.

After a sincere, meaningful prayer with Donald, two of the pastors drove me back to get my stuff for the bus and listened to me tell stories of God’s faithfulness in my life as they blessed me with lunch and $20. I didn’t deserve any of it. I’m just a child of a God who has a whole lot to give.

Ana’s Hospitality

Back in San José that evening, I was again welcomed into Ana’s house. Ana is the one who left work to pick me up from the airport when I first arrived in Costa Rica, and helped orient me and get my bus to the jungle house. She’s wonderful, and is a sister in Christ. I’d never even met Ana before coming to her country; she welcomed me with motherly care because of an email from my aunt, who knew Ana when her family lived in Costa Rica as missionaries.

Ana exhibited the best of hospitality while I was with her. She bought my dinners, made me impressive breakfasts, packed my lunch to-go. She gave up her room for me (though I didn’t know this for sure until I facebooked her nephew after I left). She worked her schedule around me, even taking two half days off work to show me around San José. She even gave me gifts: a coffee thermos and an LED keychain flashlight.

Ana didn’t have anything to gain by her generosity to me. She was just being faithful to use her life and resources as God’s. I have a lot to learn about being in the family of God from a more mature believer like Ana.

I love being in the family of God. I love the fellowship of other believers. I love that this community is spread all over the earth, where I can show up in countries and find that God has people there. The family of God transcends time and space. Indeed, much of my encouragement on this trip has been from writings of men of the Bible, long dead, or from prayers and emails from friends and family, who are in other parts of the world. Participation in the worldwide community of believers is a magnificent gift of encouragement for those who follow Jesus Christ.

Perhaps the most beautiful thing about the family of God is that no one has earned her place in it. None of us deserve to be called God’s children or receive part in his inheritance. We’re all adopted. Ephesians 1:5 says, “In love God predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will.” Again, Galatians 3:26 tells us, “So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God in faith.” I don’t merit the benefits of being in the family of God. I’m adopted in, through my faith in Jesus, and I’m incredibly grateful to have such a wonderful family.

The End of Beauty

I wear on my right hand a ring that says “Bonvm Veritas Pvlcher,” Latin for “Goodness, Truth, Beauty.”

The three words are sometimes called the transcendentals or the highest forms/ideas, or could even be considered final causes in teleology, studying the end goal or purpose of things. That’s some of the classical philosophy behind these lofty concepts. Goodness is good because… it is. Truth is… true. Beauty is beautiful… just because.

Beauty is unexplainable; it is something to which other things point. Sunsets, music, mountains, art, fresh air—they all give us tastes of beauty.

We all understand that beauty does something to us. It moves us, excites our souls, is sensed in our spirits. Beauty evokes words of wow and irrepressible smiles. 

When we walk up to the edge of the Grand Canyon and the immense expanse fills our eyes, we can't help but speak our amazement. At first sight the vast crater of Volcán Poás in Costa Rica, person after person says "¡Que lindo!" or “How beautiful!” When a child has her first bite of steak, her face lights up and a big grin creeps out. The music of Mozart played by an orchestra in a symphony hall forces one’s eyes to close in an experience of transcendence. Beauty gives us a sense that life is good, and we humans are drawn to it—desiring to get as much of the delightful experience of beauty as we can.

I’ve been exposed to the most beautiful of worlds humans can create. Being employed in upscale restaurants meant commuting past magnificent homes in luxurious neighborhoods then working around more-beautiful-than-average people driving up in their eye-catching cars, wearing tasteful clothing and leaving handsome tips. Wealth in the city is very appealing, alluring, attractive.

Costa Rica is overflowing in natural beauty. This country contains spectacular volcanoes, impressive mountains covered in tropical green, clean rivers with stunning waterfalls, and pristine beaches. The temperature is warm but not hot, the waters refreshing but not cold. The sun is pleasant but takes breaks for life-bringing rains and awesome thunderstorms.

I like beauty. I find it exceedingly attractive. (naturally). Unfortunately, I often make beauty an end, a goal. I forget to go a step further.

There’s an end to how much happiness beauty can provide us; it has its limits. Though many things contain value strictly because they contain beauty, beauty has not succeeded in satisfying me. I’m a seeker of goodness, truth and beauty. I’m adventurer in life. Yet for all the magnificent beauty I’ve been allowed to see, the high never lasts. My longing is never sated.

Costa Rica is a slice of the world where people come on spiritual journeys. I came on one, though I know the God I seek. Men and women, young and old, come here to appreciate the beauty in this nation, and it’s a good place to visit.

Ticos—Costa Rican locals—frequently use the phrase Pura Vida—literally, “Pure Life”—as a greeting, farewell, or just to say “what’s up?” or “sweet!” Here the phrase is used as the Hebrew Shalom, Sanskrit Namaste or even Hawaiian Aloha. Just as Shalom expresses the Jewish value of and longing for “peace,” or Namaste reveals the underlying Indian idea that “I bow to [the god in] you” or Aloha propels a cool, easygoing and friendly culture, so Pura Vida promotes a Costa Rican appreciation for a clean environment and a healthy, stress-free lifestyle.

The appeal of Pura Vida draws people from all over the world, especially the United States, because we long to be free of busyness, of processed foods and of concrete jungles. We see in Costa Rica a return to the Garden of Eden. The coastal scene we call paradise. We all long for a more perfect world, so why not pilgrimage to the bio-diverse and eco-friendly Costa Rica?

I'm guilty of being caught up in the idolatry of beauty. I may not seek after drugs for a high, but I do love a good adventure in a beautiful place. I like being around beautiful people, and I find wealth magnetically attractive. I like eating delicious and healthy food. I enjoy exercise. While these things may be good, when I fail to acknowledge the God behind the beauty, beauty ceases to please me; it can thrill no further. I’ve noticed that Costa Rican art revolves around Pura Vida and the natural wealth here… oddly similar to the way Indian art revolves around depictions of their various gods and goddesses. We pervert beauty when we make it an idol, when we worship something that contains beauty instead of the God who created it. Perversion never satisfies.

We exploit beauty in other ways too—gluttony, pornography, adultery, over-exercise, drunkenness, laziness… for a few examples. Our sinful human brains just cannot seem to get it right, constantly taking good gifts from God like food, bodies, sexuality, alcohol and rest, and using them improperly or in excess. I try to find the most harmless, healthy “high” possible—and I got it coming to Costa Rica. But I didn’t become a superman. I didn’t transcend to a higher state of being. I found that beauty cannot satisfy.

My ring, given to me by Biola Universtiy’s Torrey Honors Institute at graduation, reminds us of what we studied—a belief that the God-man Jesus Christ is the consummation of goodness, truth and beauty. God is good, and Jesus lived a perfect, sinless life. Jesus taught truth that runs deep through the veins of this earth, even calling himself the truth.  No act on earth has been as beautiful as the redemption Jesus brought about for us by his sacrificial death on a cross. Jesus is the be-all and end-all of this universe.

Jesus Christ is all that I’ve found satisfying on this earth. I’m serious. Everything else leaves me empty. Only when I live according to the good instructions in God’s Word do I know peace. Only in reading and meditating on the Bible do I sense that I am studying the most profound truths of the universe. Only when I worship the God who created me and this beautiful world do I feel that my life is rightly ordered.

As  I depart from Costa Rica today, it doesn't mean the end of beauty; it simply means I have to look for it in other places--in smiles, in conversations with friends, in a good cup of coffee on a rainy day. Because God made our world, the undercurrents of beauty are everywhere. We ought to seek out beauty; it’s good. But we ought not hope that beauty alone will fill the cravings of our souls. Drink responsibly from the well of beauty, and remember your Creator.

A Prayer

Lord God, my Father,

Thank you for your love. You are good and righteous, just and compassionate, holy and perfect. You are worthy of all the praise the world can bring you, even if we often ignore you or rebel against you. Thank you for being patient with us and loving us despite ourselves, knowing how hopelessly lost in our sin and selfishness that you would send your only Son to us, whom we killed, but by whose death we are freed from the due consequence of eternal death.

Thank you for my family, for my friends—among your richest gifts to me. Thank you for making this beautiful world that brings me so much joy. Thank you for the gift of good food and the ability to make it. Thank you for health and safety, and please continue provide for me and to protect me from harm.

Forgive me for my continued sinning against you. I should know what is your best for me, but still don’t always do it. Help me to fight temptation and win, that I may glorify you through obedience. Make my mind pure, my motivations blameless, my actions virtuous. You have made known to us the path of life, and I want to follow it to live life to the fullest. With your gentle discipline and your loving hand and your Holy Spirit, guide me into what is best for me.

God, you know I come to you now with particular weight for those who don’t believe in you or think this world can somehow satisfy them. The pain in these souls burdens my heart. I feel a cloud of melancholy for them. You know those whom I have in mind. I have no power to change anyone, but you do. Please show yourself to them, God. Heal them, Lord. Cure their hardship. Help them believe in Jesus Christ as the only way you have provided to get back to you God—the way we were created to be and for which our souls long.

Thank you for the opportunities I have to share your Word with others; please continue to use me for your purposes and to be an ambassador of reconciliation. Help me bear the burdens of my soul. I long for the day you bring about your kingdom and make all things new. Please send Jesus back quickly, because I feel the pains and groans of this earth for restoration.

For your glory and in the name of Jesus Christ I pray,

Amen.