Be Who You Are: Children of the Father ~ Matthew 5:43-48

 

Recently, a friend of my wife’s was finishing a Master’s degree in counseling, preparing to become a therapist. As part of her program, she had to take a DNA test—an academic exercise to explore her own family history.

Then the results came back and everything she thought she knew about herself shattered. She had grown up an only child, raised by a single parent, believing a simple story about who her father was.

But it wasn’t true. The man she had always been told was her father - wasn’t. Her real father was someone else entirely—someone from a different country, a different ethnic background, a completely different story. And then came the second shock.

She had sisters. Just like that, her identity cracked open. The ground shifted beneath her. Her world didn’t just fall apart—it expanded. It became bigger, stranger, more beautiful, and far more unsettling than she ever imagined. And friends, in much the same way, Jesus steps up, calls us over—and hands us the results of our spiritual DNA test.

⁴³ “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor’ and ‘hate your enemy.’ ⁴⁴ But I say to you, love your enemy and pray for those who persecute you, ⁴⁵ so that you may be like your Father in heaven, since he causes the sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.

Not just don’t retaliate. Not just avoid revenge. Love them. Pray for them. Because, [deep, scary breathing] “I’m your Father.” Jesus isn’t just giving moral advice here. He’s revealing something deeper—something about who God is, who God is not, and who God parents us to be.

He says: love your enemies “so that you may be children of your Father in heaven.” And then he tells us why: Because God “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”

In other words, Jesus begins with an introduction of who our Father truly is and what God is actually like. God is not tribal. God is not retaliatory. God is not stingy with grace nor violent with discipline. God is a Father whose love is indiscriminate, generous, and unceasing – whether you love God or not; whether you hate God or not. God’s Fatherhood is not conditional on our behavior.

This matters, because we often imagine God in our image. People assume God loves like we love—selectively. That God blesses like we bless—conditionally. That God draws lines where we draw lines.  Zorba the Greek said, “I think of God as being exactly like me . . . only bigger, stronger, crazier.” And Jesus says: No, that’s not your Father. Your Father loves enemies – actively, blessingly.

So Jesus challenges any vision of God where God uses violence or retribution to get what God wants. And we must likewise challenge any depiction of God needing to enact violence to save his reputation or save us from our sins. Meister Eckhart writing around the 14^th c., said: “How long will grown men and women in this world keep drawing in their coloring books an image of God that makes them sad?”

But Jesus’ words also lead us to another big question: Who are the children of this Father-God?

Scripture actually uses the parent/child metaphor in more than one way which can create some confusion. 

On the one hand, all people are God’s children.

·       In Luke 3, the genealogy of Jesus traces his ancestors all the way back to Adam, who is called “the son of God.” We are ALL God’s children by virtue of creation.

·       In Acts 17, Paul tells a pagan audience, “We are all God’s offspring.”

·       In Ephesians 3, he speaks of the Father “from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named.”

God is Creator. And as Creator, God is Father of us all. Jesus’ own parable of the prodigal son makes this beautifully clear: the younger son never stopped being a son, even when he ran away. The older son never stopped being a son, even while resenting the father. Both were always children—though neither was living like it nor receiving its benefits. So yes—all are God’s children – whether they listen or not.

But it’s equally true that not all live as God’s children.  

Jesus also speaks of “children of God” in a more specific way. “Love your enemies… so that you may be children of your Father.”

That sounds conditional. But it’s not about earning a status—it’s about revealing a likeness. In the ancient world, to be called someone’s “child” often meant you resembled them. You carried their character. You acted like them. We know this truth and have many ways to say it in English:

• “A chip off the old block”
• “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”
• “Like father, like son” / “Like mother, like daughter”
• “Spitting image (of)”
• “His/Her father’s (or mother’s) child”
• “Cut from the same cloth“ / Cast in the same mold” / “Made of the same stuff”

• “Following in his/her father’s/mother’s footsteps”
• “Takes after his/her mother/father”
• “Runs in the family”
• “It’s in his/her blood”
• “S/he’s his mother/father all over again”

 

So when Jesus says, “so that you may be children of your Father,” he’s really saying: Demonstrate the family resemblance. Join the family business. It shows up all over the New Testament:

• “Blessed are the peacemakers, for [they’re a chip off the old block] they will be called children of God” (Matthew 5:9).
• “This is how we know [the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree] who the children of God are… anyone who does not love their brother and sister does not resemble God” (1 John 3:10).

This isn’t about exclusion. It’s about recognition. All belong to God. But not all look like God. In the same way, when Jesus rebukes the Pharisees in John 8 calling them “children of the devil,” he’s not literally saying they are the spawn of Satan. He is chastising them for imitating the enemy in their lies and in their plot to kill him. 

One time my son Jordan, when he was in First Grade, had a friend from Scotland and they joined together to do an act in the annual school talent show. My son was a bit a secretive about it but when the day came I showed up like a proud parent excited to see what the boys had come up with. I was less than thrilled, however, when they came on stage and proceeded to fake punch each other – dramatically falling down, insulting one another, while speaking English with a Scottish accent. I could feel the eyes of people roving around trying to figure out who their parents were and I remember looking around myself – hoping desperately that no one would know it was me. Make no mistake – I didn’t disown my child nor did he cease to be my child but he definitely wasn’t acting like me or how I taught him to behave.

And this is where Jesus’ teaching gets very concrete and challenging. Because likeness isn’t simply claimed—it’s also enacted. Being called a child of God doesn’t mean God favors some and not others. It means that some are actively participating and partnering in that love—experiencing it, embodying it, following Jesus. Being a “child of God” means living as if everyone is a sister or brother because God calls everyone daughter and son.

Earlier in the passage, Jesus gives three vivid, embodied examples:

• Turn the other cheek—not as passive submission, but as a courageous refusal to cower or be humiliated.
• Give your coat also—exposing injustice by prophetically revealing your nakedness.
• Go the second mile—transforming oppression into surprising freedom.

Being a child of God is not about doing nothing. It’s about resisting evil without becoming like it in order to look like the God who does just that – resists evil without becoming it.

As Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.” This is what God does. And Jesus says: This is what God’s children do too. They join the family business of loving everyone.

So here’s the heart of it: According to Jesus, God is the loving Father of all. And you are already God’s child. That is the truth of your being.

Now—be who you are. In learning who your father truly is, let that truth shape your identity and your actions. Love like your Father loves. Give like your Father gives. Refuse retaliation. Seek justice without hatred. Pray for those who oppose you. Follow Jesus. Share in God’s likeness. Because when you do, you don’t become God’s child— you reveal that you are and receive the blessing of returning home, of being united with family.

This vision of the Father matters because our world is trapped in cycles of retaliation. Hurt people hurt. Violence leads to violence. Division deepens division. And into that cycle, Jesus speaks: You’re worshiping the wrong God. There is another way:

·       A way that reflects the God who is father of all.

·       A way that creates the possibility of reconciliation.

·       A way that restores dignity to every human being, regardless whether they’re good or not.

·       A way that shares the actively loving likeness of who God is, according to Jesus.

So hear Jesus’ words again: “Love your enemies… so that you may be children of your Father.” And ask yourself: Where is God calling me to be a chip off the old block? Because the world doesn’t need more religion. It needs people who look like God and who participate in a family reunion. And that leads me to return to the story of Marianne’s friend who discovered that her Dad was someone else. What I didn’t tell you – which feels holy in our current moment – is that her Dad and his family were from Iran. When she discovered who her Father truly was - the enemy was no longer the enemy – they were family. Amen.

God Cares? Show me where and tell me how! ~ Matthew 6:25-34

 

I want to start with a confession.

There have been moments in my life when the phrase “God cares” felt hollow – almost like a bad joke. Maybe you’ve been there.

Someone says, “God cares about you,” and instead of comfort something in you tightens. Because if we’re honest, sometimes that glib statement doesn’t land as good news. Sometimes it lands as - thin. Especially when you’ve painfully experienced enough of the world. When you’ve walked through a neonatal unit or seen a child hungry. When you’ve watched someone you love not get better or walk away. When you’ve read the headlines or, worse, lived them.

And in those moments, the image of God can shrink into something distant—a ruler far away saying, “I care.” And we’re left wondering: What does that actually mean? Because if “care” just means God has warm feelings, it’s not enough. We don’t need a God who merely feels care. We need a God who does care—and we need to know how.

Jesus doesn’t avoid that tension. He steps right into it. He says, “Don’t worry about your life… your Father knows what you need.” He says, “Look at the birds of the air . . . See how the flowers of the field grow” and playfully asks, “Are you not more valuable than they?” Jesus refuses, in other words, to cancel God’s care.

It’s a strong claim. But it raises an honest question: How is that true? Because sparrows still fall. People still suffer. Hunger, sickness, and loss are real. So whatever Jesus means to say about God and us, it has to be big enough to hold that reality. Otherwise, it’s not truth—it’s denial. It’s not theology – it’s fantasy. So what does Jesus mean?

Jesus can’t be saying, “Nothing bad will happen.” He’s not offering a shallow optimism or a promise that life will be easy. Instead, he gives a command rooted in a communal vision and corporate ethic: “Y’all seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things will be given.” (Proper Texas Version) And even though it’s at the end of our passage, that’s where the real meaning begins.

The “kingdom of God” is not an abstract place. It’s a way of organizing life around God’s principles—principles of generosity, justice, prayer, trust, and love. It’s a world where:

• people don’t hoard while others starve
• people serve God’s ways rather than money’s commands
• people don’t look away from suffering they lean in
• people trust there is enough—if we live like family

Jesus is not saying, “Food doesn’t matter.” He’s saying, “God intends a world where no one faces hunger alone.” So “do not worry” is not denial—it’s an invitation: He’s saying: “God invites us to live as a community where no one is left alone to worry about food.” That’s a very different thing.

So Matthew 6:33 is a call to action to be God’s ambassadors in order to enact God’s goodness: to seek God’s justice and build a world where people are clothed and fed.

This is how the promise of care in Matthew 6 makes sense. It only works inside a life shaped by kingdom principles—where needs are met together, not carried alone. So there’s a darkside -it doesn’t work if we do nothing.

And that leads to the second truth:

God’s care is expressed through partnership.

We see this from the very beginning – the origin story of human beings who are created not for worship but for the shamar [in Hebrew: the keeping, the caring] of all creation. That’s what it means to bear God’s image – to care like God and for God.

So if we’re waiting for God to care by overriding reality—suspending natural laws, instantly fixing everything—that’s mostly not how Jesus describes God at work.

Look at the birds and the flowers, he says. They are cared for—but through a God-created, God-sustained system of soil, rain, seed, and sun. In the same way, God’s kingdom runs on relational systems—on people living out God’s principles: loving enemies, giving to those in need, forgiving others, sharing possessions, refusing to hoard.

This is God’s way of caring.  Desmond Tutu said it this way: “God does nothing in this world without a willing human partner.” Wrestle with that. It reminded me of Matthew 14, where the disciples saw a hungry crowd and brought it to Jesus’ attention, he didn’t say, “Wait for God to act.” He said, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.” And in another version of the story (Mark 6) he asks, “How many loaves do you have?” And even though a multiplying miracle occurs, partnership and participation were essential. So part of the answer to “Where is God’s care?” is this: Where are God’s partners?

And once you start looking for it, you begin to see God’s care everywhere both in Scripture and in day-to-day life.  Not in dramatic moments, but in quiet ones. A meal shared. A beautiful flower. A hand held. A burden carried. A bird singing. People who show up, who listen, who refuse to look away. People who are the care of God. People who become mundane miracles of attention and presence. Don’t underestimate that. Partnership is how God cares.

Let me offer another illustration. In the book of Acts we encounter a tremendous inward change of grace in believers who experience a radically different attitude toward possessions. Luke was so amazed by it that he describes it twice in Acts chapters 2 and 4 (Acts 2:44-45; 4:32-35). In one account, he said:

³² All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had. ³³ With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And God’s grace was so powerfully at work in them all ³⁴ that there were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales ³⁵ and put it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need. (Acts 4:32-35)

Why was there “no needy person among them”? Not because resources fell from heaven—but because people who encountered God’s grace became participants in God’s care. God’s principles reshaped their lives from greed to need, and they became God’s agents. That’s the pattern.

So when we ask, “Who is God, according to Jesus?” we have to let go of lesser images: God is cold and distant. God is passive. God is a celestial vending machine responding to requests, especially if you’re good or cute.

No. According to Jesus, God is an actively caring, transforming presence who works through principles and partnership—through people graciously transformed by love in a world made for love. And that’s both comforting and confronting. Because it means we don’t just ask, “Why doesn’t God do something?” We must learn to ask:

• What has God placed in my hands?
• Where is God inviting me to show up?
• Who near me needs care right now?

It may feel small—like five loaves and two fish. But in willing hands, that’s enough to begin. But it also means learning to receive care. Because if God works through people, then sometimes the answer to our prayer is already present—in the hands of someone nearby. Maybe what Jesus is doing in Matthew 6 is not denying the darkness or scolding our worry, but retraining our vision (Matt. 6:22-23).

Yes, the world is full of suffering. But it is also full of care, wonder, and beauty —quiet, persistent, often unnoticed. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it. So the question we leave with is not just, “Does God care?” But: Where is that care showing up right now? And how might God be working through me?

Because according to Jesus, God’s care is not far away. It is here— waiting to be noticed, waiting to be received, and waiting to be shared by us, through us, in us, and for us. To be a system of care that acknowledges our God-given pricelessness. And when we say “God cares.” When we pray for God’s provision. Always remember that God lovingly responds, “I am pouring out my goodness upon you. Look at the birds. Revel in the flowers. You are so valuable! And now, you give each other something to eat." Amen.