ADOPTION—THE SPIRIT AND THE CRY – Charles Spurgeon
Adoption—The Spirit and the Cry
“And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father.” — Galatians 4:6
We do not find the doctrine of the Trinity in Unity set forth in Scripture in formal terms, such as those employed in the Athanasian creed. However, the truth is continually taken for granted, as if it were a fact well known in the church of God. If not often laid down in so many words, it is everywhere held in solution, and mentioned incidentally in connection with other truths, rendering it quite as distinct as if expressed in a set formula. In many passages, it is brought before us so prominently that we must be willfully blind if we do not note it.
In the present chapter, for instance, we have distinct mention of each of the three divine Persons. “God,” that is the Father, “sent forth the Spirit,” that is the Holy Spirit, and He is here called “the Spirit of His Son.” Nor do we have the names alone, for each sacred person is mentioned as acting in the work of our salvation. Look at the fourth verse: “God sent forth His Son.” Then note the fifth verse, which speaks of the Son as redeeming them that were under the law. The text itself reveals the Spirit as coming into the hearts of believers and crying, “Abba, Father.
Now, inasmuch as we have not only the mention of the separate names, but also certain special operations ascribed to each, it is clear that the distinct personality of each is revealed. Neither the Father, nor the Son, nor the Spirit can be an influence or a mere form of existence. Each one acts in a divine manner, but with a special sphere and a distinct mode of operation. The error of regarding a certain divine person as a mere influence, or emanation, mainly assails the Holy Spirit, but its falseness is seen in the words “crying, Abba, Father”—an influence could not cry. The act requires a person to perform it.
Though we may not understand the wonderful truth of the undivided Unity and the distinct personality of the Triune Godhead, we see the truth revealed in the Holy Scriptures, and therefore, we accept it as a matter of faith. The divinity of each of these sacred persons is also to be gathered from the text and its connection. We do not doubt the divinity of the Father, for He is here distinctly mentioned as “God,” and twice is the Father evidently intended when the word “God” is used.
That the Son is God is implied, for though made of a woman as to His human nature, He is described as “sent forth,” and therefore, He was preexistent before He was sent forth and made of a woman. This, together with His being called the Son of God and His being spoken of as able to redeem, are sufficient proofs of His deity. The Spirit is said to do what only God can do, namely, to dwell in the hearts of all believers. It is not possible for any being to cry in the hearts of a multitude of men if He were not omnipresent and therefore divine.
So here we have the name of each divine Person, the working of each, the personality of each, and, in some degree, the deity of each, all within the compass of a few lines. As believers in the Lord Jesus Christ, we know how necessary is the cooperation of the entire Trinity for our salvation, and we are charmed to see the loving union of all in the work of deliverance. We reverence the Father, without whom we had not been chosen or adopted, the Father who has begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.
We love and reverence the Son, by whose most precious blood we have been redeemed and with whom we are one in a mystic and everlasting union. And we adore and love the divine Spirit, for it is by Him that we have been regenerated, illuminated, quickened, preserved, and sanctified. Through Him, we receive the seal and witness within our hearts, by which we are assured that we are indeed the sons of God. As God said of old, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness,” even so do the divine Persons take counsel together and all unite in the new creation of the believer.
We must not fail to bless, adore, and love each one of the exalted Persons, but we must diligently bow in humblest reverence before the one God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.”
Having noted this most important fact, let us come to the text itself, hoping to enjoy the doctrine of the Trinity while we are discoursing upon our adoption, in which wonder of grace each Person has a share. Under the teaching of the divine Spirit, may we be drawn into sweet communion with the Father through His Son Jesus Christ, to His glory and our benefit.
Three things are very clearly set forth in my text. The first is the dignity of believers: “you are sons.” The second is the consequent indwelling of the Holy Spirit: “because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts.” And the third is the filial cry: crying, “Abba, Father.”
I. The Dignity of Believers
Adoption gives us the rights of children. Regeneration gives us the nature of children. We are partakers of both of these, for we are sons. Let us observe that this sonship is a gift of grace received by faith. We are not the sons of God by nature in the sense here meant. We are, in a sense, “the offspring of God” by nature, but this is very different from the sonship here described, which is the peculiar privilege of those who are born again.
The Jews claimed to be of the family of God, but as their privileges came to them by the way of their fleshly birth, they are likened to Ishmael, who was born after the flesh but was cast out as the son of the bondwoman. We have a sonship which does not come to us by nature, for we are “born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.” Our sonship comes by promise, by the operation of God as a special gift to a peculiar seed, set apart unto the Lord by His own sovereign grace, as Isaac was.
This honor and privilege come to us, according to the connection of our text, by faith. Note well the 26th verse of the preceding chapter (Galatians 3:26): “For you are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.” As unbelievers, we know nothing of adoption. While we are under the law, as self-righteous, we know something of servitude, but we know nothing of sonship. It is only after faith has come that we cease to be under the schoolmaster and rise out of our minority to take the privileges of the sons of God.
Faith works in us the spirit of adoption and our consciousness of sonship. First, it brings us justification. Verse 24 of the previous chapter says, “The law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith.” An unjustified man stands in the condition of a criminal, not of a child. His sin is laid to his charge, and he is reckoned as unjust and unrighteous, as indeed he really is. He is a rebel against his king, not a child enjoying his father’s love. But when faith realizes the cleansing power of the blood of atonement and lays hold upon the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus, the justified man becomes a son and a child. Justification and adoption always go together. “Whom He called, them He also justified,” and the calling is a call to the Father’s house and to recognition of sonship.
Believing brings forgiveness and justification through our Lord Jesus. It also brings adoption, for it is written, “But as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name.” Faith brings us into the realization of our adoption by setting us free from the bondage of the law. “After that faith is come, we are no longer under a schoolmaster.”
When we groaned under a sense of sin and were shut up by it as in a prison, we feared the law would punish us for our iniquity, and our life was made bitter with fear. Moreover, we strove in our own blind, self-sufficient manner to keep that law, and this brought us into yet another bondage. But now that faith has come, we see the law fulfilled in Christ, and ourselves justified and accepted in Him. This changes the slave into a child and duty into choice. Now we delight in the law, and by the power of the Spirit, we walk in holiness to the glory of God.
Thus, by believing in Christ Jesus, we escape from Moses, the taskmaster, and come to Jesus, the Savior. We cease to regard God as an angry Judge and view Him as our loving Father. The system of merit and command, punishment and fear has given way to the rule of grace, gratitude, and love. This new principle of government is one of the grand privileges of the children of God.
Now, faith is the mark of sonship in all who have it, whoever they may be. “You are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:26). If you believe in Jesus, whether you are Jew or Gentile, bond or free, you are a son of God. If you have believed in Christ of late, and have but for the past few weeks been able to rest in His great salvation, beloved, now are you a child of God. It is not a later privilege, granted to assurance or growth in grace. It is an early blessing and belongs to him who has the smallest degree of faith and is no more than a baby in grace.
II. The Consequent Indwelling of the Holy Spirit in Believers
“God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts.” Here is a divine act of the Father. The Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son, and God has sent Him forth into your hearts. If He had only come knocking at your hearts and asked your leave to enter, He would never have entered. But when Jehovah sent Him, He made His way without violating your will, but with irresistible power. Where Jehovah sent Him, there He will abide and go no more out forever.
Beloved, I have no time to dwell upon the words, but I want you to turn them over in your thoughts, for they contain a great depth. As surely as God sent His Son into the world to dwell among men, so that His saints beheld His glory, “the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth,” so surely has God sent forth the Spirit to enter into men’s hearts, there to take up His residence so that in Him also, the glory of God may be revealed.
Bless and adore the Lord who has sent you such a visitor as this. Now, note the style and title under which the Holy Spirit comes to us. He comes as the Spirit of Jesus. The words are “the Spirit of His Son,” by which is not meant the character and disposition of Christ, though that was true, for God sends this unto His people, but it means the Holy Spirit. Why then, is He called the Spirit of His Son, or the Spirit of Jesus?
It was by the Holy Spirit that the human nature of Christ was born of the Virgin. By the Spirit, our Lord was attested at His baptism, when the Holy Spirit descended upon Him like a dove and abode upon Him. In Him, the Holy Spirit dwelt without measure, anointing Him for His great work. By the Spirit, He was anointed with the oil of gladness more than His fellows. The Spirit was also with Him, attesting His ministry by signs and wonders. The Holy Spirit is our Lord’s great gift to the church.
The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Christ because He is Christ’s witness here below, for “there are three that bear witness on earth, the Spirit, and the water, and the blood.” For these and many other reasons, He is called “the Spirit of His Son,” and it is He who comes to dwell in believers. I would urge you very solemnly and gratefully to consider the wondrous condescension which is here displayed.
III. The Filial Cry
This is deeply interesting. “God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, ‘Abba, Father.’” Now notice, it is the Spirit of God that cries—a most remarkable fact. Some are inclined to view the expression as a Hebraism and read it, He “makes us to cry,” but the text does not say that. We are not at liberty to alter it upon such a pretense.
We are always correct in keeping to what God says, and here we plainly read of the Spirit in our hearts, crying, “Abba, Father.” The apostle, in Romans 8:15, says, “You have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.” But here, he describes the Spirit Himself as crying, “Abba, Father.” We are certain that when he ascribed the cry of “Abba, Father” to us, he did not wish to exclude the Spirit’s cry, because in Romans 8:26, he says, “Likewise, the Spirit also helps our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.”
Thus, he represents the Spirit as groaning with unutterable groans within the child of God. So when he wrote to the Romans, he had on his mind the same thought which he here expressed to the Galatians—that it is the Spirit Himself, which cries and groans in us, “Abba, Father.” How is this? Is it not ourselves that cry? Yes, assuredly. And yet the Spirit cries also. The expressions are both correct. The Holy Spirit prompts and inspires the cry. He puts the cry into the heart and mouth of the believer. It is His cry because He suggests it, approves of it, and educates us to it.
We would never have cried thus if He had not first taught us the way. As a mother teaches her child to speak, so He puts this cry of “Abba, Father” into our mouths. Yes, it is He who forms in our hearts the desire after our Father, God, and keeps it there. He is the Spirit of adoption and the author of adoption’s special and significant cry. Not only does He prompt us to cry, but He works in us a sense of need which compels us to cry, and also that spirit of confidence which emboldens us to claim such a relationship to the great God.
Nor is this all. For He assists us in some mysterious manner so that we are able to pray aright. He puts His divine energy into us so that we cry, “Abba, Father,” in an acceptable manner. There are times when we cannot cry at all, and then He cries in us. There are seasons when doubts and fears abound, suffocating us with their fumes so that we cannot even raise a cry. Then, the indwelling Spirit represents us, speaks for us, and makes intercession for us, crying in our name and making intercession for us according to the will of God.
Thus does the cry, “Abba, Father,” rise up in our hearts, even when we feel as if we could not pray and dare not think ourselves children. Then we may each say, “I live, yet not I, but the Spirit that dwells in me.” On the other hand, at times our soul gives such a sweet assent to the Spirit’s cry that it becomes ours also. But then we more than ever acknowledge the work of the Spirit and still ascribe to Him the blessed cry, “Abba, Father.”
I want you to notice a very sweet fact about this cry, namely, that it is literally the cry of the Son. God has sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, and that Spirit cries in us exactly according to the cry of the Son. If you turn to the gospel of Mark, at the 14th chapter, 36th verse, you will find there what you will not discover in any other evangelist (for Mark is always the man for the striking points and the memorable words). He records that our Lord prayed in the garden, “Abba, Father, all things are possible unto You; take away this cup from Me: nevertheless, not what I will, but what You will.”
So, this cry in us copies the cry of our Lord to the letter—“Abba, Father.” Now, I dare say you have heard these words “Abba, Father” explained at considerable length at other times. And if so, you know that the first word is Syrian or Aramaic, roughly speaking, and “Abba” is the Hebrew word for “father.” The second word is Greek and is the Gentile word “Pater,” which also signifies father. It is said that these two words are used to remind us that Jews and Gentiles are one before God. They do remind us of this, but this cannot have been the principal reason for their use.
Do you think that when our Lord was in His agony in the garden, He said, “Abba, Father,” because Jews and Gentiles are one? Why should He have thought of that doctrine and why need He mention it in prayer to His Father? Some other reason must have suggested it to Him. It seems to me that our Lord said, “Abba,” because it was His native tongue. When a Frenchman prays, if he has learned English, he may ordinarily pray in English, but if ever he falls into an agony, he will pray in French, as surely as he prays at all.
Our Welsh brethren tell us that there is no language like Welsh—I suppose it is so to them. They will talk English when about their ordinary business and pray in English when everything goes comfortably with them, but I am sure that if a Welshman is in a great fervency of prayer, he flies to his Welsh tongue to find full expression. Our Lord in His agony used His native language, and as born of the seed of Abraham, He cries in His own tongue, “Abba.” Even thus, my brethren, we are prompted by the spirit of adoption to use our own language, the language of the heart, and to speak to the Lord freely in our own tongue.
Besides, to my mind, the word “Abba” is of all words in all languages the most natural word for father. I must try and pronounce it so that you see the natural childishness of it, “Ab-ba,” “Ab-ba.” Is it not just what your children say, ab, ab, ba, ba, as soon as they try to talk? It is the sort of word which any child would say, whether Hebrew, Greek, French, or English. Therefore, Abba is a word worthy of introduction into all languages. It is truly a child’s word, and our Master felt, I have no doubt, in His agony, a love for child’s words.
Dr. Guthrie, when he was dying, said, “Sing a hymn,” but he added, “Sing me one of the children’s hymns.” When a man comes to die, he wants to be a child again, and longs for children’s hymns and children’s words. Our blessed Master in His agony used the children’s word, “Abba,” and it is equally becoming in the mouth of each one of us.
I think this sweet word, “Abba,” was chosen to show us that we are to be very natural with God and not stilted and formal. We are to be very affectionate and come close to Him, not merely say, “Pater,” which is a cold Greek word, but say, “Abba,” which is a warm, natural, loving word, fit for one who is a little child with God and makes bold to lie in His bosom, look up into His face, and talk with holy boldness.
“Abba” is not a word, somehow, but a baby’s lisping. Oh, how near we are to God when we can use such a speech! How dear He is to us, and dear we are to Him when we may thus address Him, saying, like the great Son, Himself, “Abba, Father.”
This leads me to observe that this cry in our hearts is exceedingly near and familiar. In the sound of it, I have shown you that it is childlike, but the tone and manner of the utterance are equally so. Note that it is a cry. If we obtain an audience with a king, we do not cry. We speak then in measured tones and set phrases. But the Spirit of God breaks down our measured tones, takes away the formality which some hold in great admiration, and leads us to cry, which is the very reverse of formality and stiffness.
When we cry, we cry, “Abba.” Even our very cries are full of the spirit of adoption. A cry is a sound which we are not anxious that every passerby should hear, yet what child minds his father hearing him cry? So when our heart is broken and subdued, we do not feel as if we could talk fine language at all. But the Spirit in us sends forth cries and groans, and of these, we are not ashamed, nor are we afraid to cry before God.
I know some of you think that God will not hear your prayers because you cannot pray grandly like such-and-such a minister. Oh, but the Spirit of His Son cries, and you cannot do better than cry too. Be satisfied to offer to God broken language, words salted with your grief, wet with your tears. Go to Him with holy familiarity and be not afraid to cry in His presence, “Abba, Father.”
But then how earnest it is! For a cry is an intense thing. The word implies fervency. A cry is not a flippant utterance, nor a mere thing of the lips. It comes up from the soul. Has not the Lord taught us to cry to Him in prayer with fervent persistence that will not take a denial? Has He not brought us so near to Him that sometimes we say, “I will not let You go unless You bless me”?
Has He not taught us so to pray that His disciples might almost say of us as they did of one of old, “Send her away, for she cries after us.” We do cry after Him, our heart and our flesh cry out for God, for the living God, and this is the cry, “Abba, Father. I must know You. I must taste Your love. I must dwell under Your wing. I must behold Your face. I must feel Your great fatherly heart overflowing and filling my heart with peace.” We cry, “Abba, Father.”
I shall close when I notice this, that most of this crying is kept within the heart and does not come out at the lips. Like Moses, we cry when we say not a word. God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, whereby we cry, “Abba, Father.” You know what I mean. It is not alone in your little room, by the old armchair, that you cry to God, but you call Him, “Abba, Father,” as you go about the streets or work in the shop. The Spirit of His Son is crying, “Abba, Father,” when you are in the crowd or at your table among the family.
I see it is alleged as a very grave charge against me that I speak as if I were familiar with God. If it is so, I make bold to say that I speak only as I feel. Blessed be my heavenly Father’s name, I know I am His child, and with whom should a child be familiar but with His father? O you strangers to the living God, be it known unto you, that if this is vile, I purpose to be viler still, as He shall help me to walk more closely with Him.
We feel a deep reverence for our Father in heaven, which bows us to the very dust, but for all that, we can say, “Truly our fellowship is with the Father and with His Son, Jesus Christ.” No stranger can understand the nearness of the believer’s soul to God in Christ Jesus, and because the world cannot understand it, it finds it convenient to sneer, but what of that? Abraham’s tenderness to Isaac made Ishmael jealous and caused him to laugh, but Isaac had no cause to be ashamed of being ridiculed, since the mocker could not rob him of the covenant blessing.
Yes, beloved, the Spirit of God makes you cry, “Abba, Father,” but the cry is mainly within your heart, and there it is so commonly uttered that it becomes the habit of your soul to be crying to your heavenly Father. The text does not say that He had cried, but the expression is “crying”—it is a present participle, indicating that He cries every day, “Abba, Father.”
Go home, my brethren, and live in the spirit of sonship. Wake up in the morning and let your first thought be, “My Father, my Father, be with me this day.” Go out into business and when things perplex you, let that be your resort—“My Father, help me in this hour of need.” When you go to your home and meet with domestic anxieties, let your cry be, “Help me, my Father.” When alone, you are not alone, because the Father is with you. And in the midst of the crowd, you are not in danger, because the Father Himself loves you.
What a blessed word is that—“The Father Himself loves you!” Go and live as His children. Take heed that you reverence Him, for if He is a father, where is His fear? Go and obey Him, for this is right. Be imitators of God as dear children. Honor Him wherever you are by adorning His doctrine in all things. Go and live upon Him, for you shall soon live with Him. Go and rejoice in Him. Go and cast all your cares upon Him. Go henceforth, and whatever men may see in you, may they be compelled to acknowledge that you are the children of the Highest. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.” May you be such henceforth and evermore. Amen and amen.