Yesterday's working with the sorting and packing crew of our Orphan Grain Train was fun.  25-30 folks came to work hard and have some good fellowship too.  The more I work with you folks, the more it feels like family.  And family is always good this time of year.  For those who haven't packed and sorted with us, you should come - it's a blast!

          About this time each year I get a bit sentimental.  Several times the past few weeks I've asked people to share their special Christmas memory, and when it comes around to me, I tell of Mom's giving us Christmas wine in jelly glasses or Dad's giving Uncle Paul new plow shares for the use of his tractor or of the first and only Christmas the boys and I had with my family when I introduced them to Carol.  When you leave home in fulltime ministry, being gone from relatives at Christmas is one of the things you put up with.  And the memories often bring a lump to your throat.

          One family is on my mind a lot this Christmas - Allen and Mary Lu Konrad.  They're missionaries to South Africa and had planned to retire in 2004, but Synod cutbacks have ended their mission in Durban, SA, 18 months ahead of schedule.  The sad part is they've given their entire ministry lives to overseas missions and will finally be able to live in the states with their three children and many grandchildren, but it's bittersweet reward.  They have no retirement for another 18 months, nor any health insurance (and he's had heart problems).  They've no church to take them so far, and they've no place to live except with their children.  When Allen turns 65, he'll get his pension, but not Mary Lu.  Though she's given her life to the Lord's work at his side, they'll have to make it from his pension.

          Yet pension or housing or health insurance is not what they're really concerned about.  It's the church family they're leaving behind.  It was just beginning to come of age.  The Durban church of Indian Lutherans had been kept on mission status its whole history, and pastors did everything for them.  They had no business meetings, paid no bills, and did no ministry - it was all done for them.  So the Konrads worked three years getting the people to do their own ministry.  Now they're being brought home before those left are ready to stand on their own.  They feel like they're leaving behind a family of teenagers who will have to fend for themselves.  The timing just didn't seem right, but now it's out of their hands, and the Christians there will have to rely on the Lord and their own effort.  Some may feel this is good - those missionaries can do pastoral ministry here in the States now.  But when you've been African that long it's hard to do American ministry.  And what church wants you when you're 63 and a half?

          This text is one of my favorite for Christmas.  It says God's time is the right time.  Jesus, Son of God, came into the world when the time was just.  We know that's true.  Either before or after the time of Christ's birth, historic or cultural events would have not made it work so well.  Even today with all our technology would not have been the right time.  God's timing is the best of all, even though it is often hard to understand.

          This text also says that we are adopted into His family.  We aren't expected, we are selected.  God chooses us.  To be adopted by humans is wonderful, but to be adopted by God is marvelous.  Why would He select us?  Not because He needs us.  Not because we are lovable.  Not because He wants someone to continue His family name, or of any of the reasons humans adopt children.  God adopted us because we needed Him.  At Lutheran Family Services they say, "We're not in the business of finding children for parents, but parents for children."  So it is with God.  He's in the business of adoption because a world of lost children need a Father.  He doesn't need earthly children, but we need a heavenly parent, so He adopts us in faith.

          This passage also talks about the relationship God wants between us and Himself.  He wants us to call him Father.  We do that in the Lord's Prayer.  As Luther explained these words:  "God here tenderly invites us to believe that He is our true Father and that we are His true children, so that we may with all boldness and confidence, speak to Him as dear children speak to their dear father." (Luther's explanation to the First Article of the Apostle's Creed)

          But God wants us to go beyond "Father."  He wants us to call Him "Daddy."  "Abba" is Aramaic for "Daddy!"  Did any of you learn this as your first childhood prayer - "Abba, Father, Amen"?  That was the first prayer I taught my boys, "Abba, Father, Amen."  The boys didn't know what it meant, but they knew it was special to call God "Daddy" because their own Daddy wanted them to.

          So, what do you call your father?  Is he Dad or Daddy, Papa or Pops? People will usually address their father by the name which shows their level of respect.  If there is little respect, he'll be "the old man."  If there is great respect, he is called "father."  In our home, we called him "Pa."  At least until someone told us "Pa" didn't sound respectful.  Then we called him "Dad" in public, but to us he was always Pa.

          In at least 15 of the world's major languages, the term of endearment for one's father is the same -- "Pa."  But St. Paul says go further -- call Him "Abba" - Daddy.  What father doesn't react with pride and swallow hard when he hears his child call him "Daddy?"  I believe God reacts the same when He knows we love Him enough to call Him Daddy.

          We call our earthly Father Papa or Daddy because he is special.  Our Heavenly Father is more special.  He is special because He provides for us.  He gives us life, and the things that make life wonderful.  He is our true Father.  There are some who object to using only a masculine term for God.  Some segments of Christianity have caved in and call Him a "mother-father god," something like that.  But how does that help?  I think that would only help someone who disrespects his father or has been abused by her father.  To call God Father is not a sexist thing - It is a biblical thing.  We call Him Father because that's what Jesus called Him.  If Jesus had called him "Uncle," we'd call Him Uncle too.  But He's Father, and Father is a good name.  Abba, Father, amen!

          God is special because He sees to our needs.  He knows what we need even before we need it.  What we need, He provides.  He provides it even though we don't deserve it.  How many of you gave a gift to someone and expected them to give something back?  That's a human thing.  But God gives gifts to people even though He knows most will reject Him.  That's called grace -- God providing us what we need, even if we hate Him.  Abba, Father, amen!

          When I was about 17 years old, I wrecked Pa's old '53 Pontiac one night.  I had driven to town alone, stayed out too late and dozed lightly at the wheel when I sideswiped an oncoming car.  Our cars slammed together on the center of the road at 70 mph each.  We could have been killed, but were only shaken.  We took each other's name and phone number and drove home.  I woke Dad up at midnight with fear and trembling and told him what I'd done.  "Are you hurt?" he said, opening one eye.  "No, but the car is," I replied.  "Then go to bed and we'll see to it in the morning."  Pa never showed any anger for what happened that night.  He told me later that day, "I was wondering when you'd do something like that.  All the rest of the boys did, and I figured you would sooner or later."  I never paid for the car repair nor did he lecture me.  What I discovered was that he expected me to do something like that and had already made plans for when the time came.

          You see, Pa had provided for my blunder even before I blundered.  He knew me well enough to make plans.  And God has done the same for you and me.  Pa didn't want me to wreck the car, and didn't make plans so I could go out and wreck his car, but he knew his son.  He knew I'd one day need his forgiveness for this.  So it is with God.  God doesn't want us to sin.  He didn't give us His grace so that we could go out and sin some more, but He knows His children.  Psalm 103 says, "He knows how we are made."  His mercy predates anything we've ever done.  God's grace is older than our sins.  Yet, in Christ, it's new to us every morning.  Abba, Father, amen!

          In our old neighborhood of Oakbrook, the kids used to play street hockey in the springtime.  The minute they were home from school, they'd drop their books and hit the pavement.  One of the kids had a Dad who had played real hockey.  Some nights, when he came home from work, he put on his roller blades and joined the play.  He couldn't resist.  And he usually joined the team that was losing.  His appearance in the game changed the whole thing.  This dad was confident and strong, but more importantly, he always had a plan.  The minute he joined the losing team, the winning team was in trouble.  That Dad brought life to their team.  To win, those boys didn't need a new play, they needed a plan - but most of all, they needed a new player.

          The Player you and I have is Jesus Christ.  The Plan He has is salvation - His death and resurrection for us.  When He comes into your life, everything changes.  Jesus doesn't come into life to excuse how we play, or make excuses for sin, but to change us and inspire us.  He doesn't come to preserve the dead, but to raise the dead.  And He starts with Himself.  Calvary's death on Friday is only part of the story.  The open grave on Sunday is the rest of the story.  And because He came out of the grave alive, He gives us power to be raised from death to life.  As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 5:17:  "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation;  the old has gone, the new has come."  In Jesus, we have a new player, and the whole business of life changes.  Abba, Father, amen!

          Because of God's grace, you and I have Christmas.  Because of God's grace you and I have a new year just around the corner.  Because of God's grace in Jesus Christ, you and I have a future.  I went to a funeral last Friday, and saw hope.  The aged wife was filled with hope because she knew Jesus, and she knew her husband knew Jesus.  That family had hope because they had Jesus.

          Hope helps us love others.  When you know life is all in God's hands, you're not afraid to show love to others.  Hope makes us able to do surprising things.  In a few days we will begin a new year, 2003.  You'll read things about how good or bad 2002 was.  You'll read about ways to make 2003 better.  My suggestion to you is from St. Paul.  Pray, "Abba, Father, amen!"  The grace of the Lord Jesus and the love of our Daddy God be with you all.  Amen.

Copyright © 2002 by Pastor Bob Tasler.  All rights reserved.