“Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called children of God: and such we are.... Beloved, now are we the children of God, and it is not yet made manifest what we shall be. We know that, if He shall be manifested, we shall be like Him; for we shall see Him even as He is. And every one that hath this hope set on Him purifieth himself even as He is pure”— 1 John 3:1-31Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God: therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not. 2Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is. 3And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure. (1 John 3:1‑3) (R.V.).
DO not let us limit our thoughts of God’s grace to the forgiveness of sins. We shall be great losers if we do. No doubt it is an immense thing to be forgiven. Everybody feels it to be so who knows the sorrow that always attends true repentance. Forgiveness is the first need of the soul. David speaks of the blessedness of it in Psalms 32, and Paul quotes David’s words in Romans 4, saying, “Blessed are they whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man to whom the Lord will not impute sin.” And “this blessedness” both of them had experienced, and they were therefore well able to speak of it.
Does the reader shrink from taking the same ground? Is forgiveness a thing hoped for rather than enjoyed? It ought not to be so. The gospel gives certainty and not a doubtful hope.
Observe the argument in Romans 4. The Apostle contends that “this blessedness” is not received as wages from a master’s hand. Now the common creed of multitudes is this: “Serve God all your life and you may hope to be forgiven when you die.” It thus becomes a question of wages. You have worked and you reap your reward. Now the gospel runs on wholly opposite lines. The forgiveness that it brings is a free gift “to him that worketh not.” It comes on another principle altogether. The God who forgives is the Justifier of the ungodly—not of the pious, the good, the diligent user of the means of grace—but of the ungodly. And if we believe the glad tidings concerning Christ who died for the ungodly (Rom. 5:66For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly. (Romans 5:6)) and on God “who justifies the ungodly” (Rom. 4:55But to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness. (Romans 4:5)), then we are indeed forgiven. This blessedness is ours. It is as sure as that the sun shines in the heavens. Who can read the passages we have quoted and doubt it?
But do not let us stop there as if “this blessedness” were the summit and crown of all that could be ever hoped for. It is the beginning and not the end. The prodigal was certainly forgiven when his father fell on his neck and covered him with kisses. But did not the best robe, the ring, the shoes, the fatted calf, the music and the dancing in the father’s house tell a further story? Is there no such thing as “the riches of His grace”? (Eph. 1:77In whom we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace; (Ephesians 1:7)).
Our passage speaks in a style and tone that arrests attention. Look! See! Behold! It is as if the writer had fallen into a joyous ecstasy. “See,” says he, “the manner of the Father’s love! He calls us His children—children of God!” Could there be anything more blessed either in heaven or on earth? Angels, in the Old Testament, are sometimes called “sons of God”— it is a title of dignity, but nowhere are they ever said to be children of God. This amazing privilege is ours! The Father’s love has set us in this relationship, so that we might look up to Him as Father and know that He loves us as only such a Father could.
But for the enjoyment of this we need the faith of a little child. That no one is worthy of such a favor is true enough. But if our worthiness is the purchase-price of blessing, then we shall never be blessed at all. No one is worthy, and we may at once abandon all hope and fling ourselves into the black and surging sea of despair. Thank God, there is no need to do that. The atoning work of our Lord Jesus on the Cross has removed every barrier to the outflowing of God’s great love. The blessing He gives is not now measured by our meagre thoughts, still less is our worthiness the ground of it. No; He blesses because of what Christ is, and according to the riches of His grace.
The hopes and expectations of the repentant prodigal, in Luke 15, never went beyond the place of a hired servant. He felt that to be much more than he deserved. And so it was. But he had yet to learn the riches of his father’s grace. And that is where so many are in the thought of their heart. A place just inside heaven’s door marks the boundaries of their hopes. Oh, Christian, shake off these unworthy thoughts! Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed on us! Not a hired servant’s place does His love assign to you. You are His child, dear unto Him, and loved as Jesus is loved (John 17:2323I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one; and that the world may know that thou hast sent me, and hast loved them, as thou hast loved me. (John 17:23)).
And as if to confirm our hearts in this amazing grace the Apostle is led to say, “Beloved, now are we the children of God.” Were it a state of future blessedness it would be a matter of hope. But the word NOW brings it right into the present moment. Here on earth, compassed about with failures and infirmities, God calls us His children. We shall not be more so even when we are in our eternal home and perfectly conformed to the image of our Saviour. His own love has formed this relationship, and the Spirit of His Son, sent forth into our hearts, gives us the consciousness of it and leads us to cry, “Abba, Father.” It is the sense of this amazing grace that bows our hearts in worship. We adore Him who deals with us thus, and who finds the motive for doing so not in our deserving, but in His own great love.
Nor is this all. Our passage speaks of the future as well as the present. Here, too, there is no uncertainty. As surely as we know that we are now the children of God so do we know what God has purposed for us. It is not, says the Apostle, yet made manifest what we shall be. The hour for that is not yet come. But we are not in the dark as to what God’s counsel about His children is. They are to be conformed to the image of His Son. They are to be like Him—the many brethren of whom He will be First-born. This is our calling and high destiny. And it will be realized when Jesus comes again. Then we shall be like Him. Oh, blessed hope!
Finally, the Apostle shows the practical effect of this hope. It sanctifies, it separates in heart, in life, in ways from all that is inconsistent with such a calling. Christ, for whose return we wait, becomes the Object of the heart, and thus we grow more like Him even now.
Christ is our hope. Dark, dark indeed is the night; but we wait and we watch for “the bright and morning Star”— the harbinger of an endless and cloudless day. How rich the grace that gives us our present portion, the children’s place, and as to the future, the sure and certain hope of being like Him.
W. B.