From the Pulpit: Can you see clearly now?
In the summer of 2004, Warren Beamer, a missionary from San Antonio, Texas, visited an orphanage in Nigeria. Beamer was startled when one of the children at the orphanage spoke to him with a southern accent. The girl quickly shared that she was from Houston, Texas. To convince the missionary that this was true, she recited her social security number. Then the girl led Beamer to six other children in the orphanage, whom she described as her brothers and sisters.
The children, who ranged from eight to 16 years of age, had been sent to a Nigerian boarding school by their adoptive American mother. When the woman stopped making tuition payments, the children were sent to the orphanage, living in squalid conditions. Gradually, the children gave up hope of ever returning home.
When the children saw Beamer, they began singing the “Star-Spangled Banner” in an effort to convince him of the truth of their claim. With the assistance of Beamer’s pastor and a U.S. congressman, the children were back in America within eight days.
“Who are you? Do you know who you are? Can you prove that you are who you say you are?” I would say, “Sure, I can prove it.” I would whip out a driver’s license, or a social security card, or some form of photo ID and show my proof. If that wasn’t enough, I would just ask my wife.
The next question is harder, “Who are you spiritually?” That answer might get a little bit murkier. There are a lot of thoughts and ideas out there that make it difficult to figure out our spiritual identity.
I love the book of Romans because more than anything else it is a book about our spiritual identity: knowing who we are in Christ and living who we are in Christ. Lives drift and spiritual potential remains unfulfilled when we cannot clearly see who God wants us to be and what He has called us to do with our lives. God wants us to see ourselves through His eyes. He wants us to have a keenly sharp clarity about what it means to be a Christian.
Kurt Vonnegut’s novel Timequake centers on a series of stories about people who have lost control of their lives. Towards the end of the story, he tries to revive others by repeating this motto: “You were sick, but now you’re well, and there’s work to do.”
That’s a description of every Christian’s experience. I was sick. Now I’m well. And now there’s work to do. God in his infinite love saves us, cleanses us, and employs us.
That clarity of purpose is Paul’s message in Romans 1:1. He begins by talking about how he sees himself before his Master. He calls himself a “bondservant.” The Greek word Paul uses here is most often translated servant, speaking of someone who was in the employment of another. In some cases, it is translated ‘bondservant.’ It’s a more intense translation of the Greek. In the Hebrew mind this represented someone who voluntarily committed themselves to serve, without pay, a master that was loved or respected. It goes beyond the idea of just being a servant because it gives the sense that the bond-servant is giving their life to another, without the promise of anything in return.
That is our identity in Christ. We belong to Jesus. Because we love Him, we serve Him. That’s what it means to be a Christian.