The Sound of Adoption

For you did not receive a spirit of slavery again to fear, but you received a spirit of adoption, by which we cry “Abba, Father.”   Romans 8:15

Cry – It’s no melodious tune.  It’s not Handel’s Messiah or the Brooklyn Tabernacle choir.  Do you want to hear the sound of adoption?  Then go with me to the delivery room and listen to a baby cry at the point of birth.  That’s what adoption sounds like.  It sounds just like the first wail when new life begins.

Paul uses the Greek word krazo.  Say it out loud.  Kra’ zo!  Harsh.  Rasping.  It is meant to sound like the cry of a raven.  It is meant to sound like an explosion of bleating noise, like a baby when the air first fills the lungs.  It is a hard sound, but if you’re in the delivery room, it is also a wonderful sound.  No parent will ever forget that first cry; the moment when a new person comes into the world.

Is that the sound you had in mind when you thought about crying, “Abba, Father”?  If you’re like most Christians, you didn’t think about a baby’s cry.  You probably thought about some sweet worship chorus or angelic music.  But Paul wants nothing to do with those melodies.  He wants you to see that adoption is the equivalent of birth.  And when we cry, “Abba, Father,” we are filling our lungs with living Spirit for the first time.  We are the baby just born, gasping for air, wailing for life.  It is the sound of complete dependence, of brand-new existence, or joyous celebration.  The Father says, “Welcome to the world, my child.  You have been generated by Me.  I am overjoyed to hear your sound.”

God knows krazo.  It is the sound of a new birth into His family. 

I know krazo.  It is the sound of my deliverance.

Krazo sets the tone for my existence in the family of God – new birth, dependent, expected to grow, full member of the family, same Father, same Brother.

Cry “Abba, Father” with me.