Why We Need a Second Dad
“What?”
“I’m going to keep you for two more days.”
I tried this on my seven year old son, Josiah, the other day and he got this real serious look on his face and said, “Don’t do that.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Cause I want you to be my Dad.”
Sometimes I’ll go into my kids room and look at them sleeping, all knocked out on the bed, recharging for their next day of energy after draining all of mine, and I’ll think to myself, “I just love being a Dad!”
But being a Dad is not always easy. Think about all the roles you are supposed to fill for your kid: his disciplinarian, his hero, his coach, his friend, his story-teller, his in-house comedian, his jungle gym, his punching bag...
And we know and our kids know, that no matter how hard we try, we Dads mess up.
Sometimes we stand in the mirror and think, “I don’t know if I want my boy to grow up just like me.”
The truth is, no matter how good of a Dad you and I try to be, we cannot fix our child’s biggest problem, the problem of sin. We can curb his behavior. We can get him to stop cussing, picking his boogers, and hiding lima beans in his milk. But we cannot fix his sins.
And that’s why he needs a second Daddy. And not only does he need one, but you and I. Every human walking this planet has a Daddy. But have you been introduced to the second Daddy, the only Daddy who can take away your sins?
Who is this second Daddy? The apostle Paul answers that question:
So then, as through one transgression there resulted condemnation to all men, even so through one act of righteousness there resulted justification of life to all men (Rom 5:18).
In this passage Paul gives us two Dads and two consequences. Two actions and two results. The first action is the action of sin.
Our Sin-savoring Nature
This “one transgression” is the sin of Adam, the oldest great grand daddy you’ll ever have. When Adam sunk his teeth into that juicy piece of fruit, he chose to disobey his Daddy, who is God (Luke 3:38) and since that day, every living human inherited Adam’s nature to sin.
Have you ever had a day where you’re just sitting there minding your own business, and this woman dressed in less than a peeled banana walks by and you know you shouldn’t, but your mind wants to fantasize? Or you’re buying something at the store and the cashier accidentally overpays you and it’d be so innocently convenient to just take the extra cash? Or you serve at the mission or at church or do something kind for someone and you walk away savoring how people think well of you because you did something good, giving yourself the credit instead of God?
Where on earth do those evil desires come from? Our sin-loving nature. And where does that nature come from? Our great grandaddy, Adam the first, who couldn’t be content with the 10,000 other fruit trees in the garden but had to eat from the only one where God said “No snacking allowed!”
We don’t lust and lie and credit ourselves instead of God because we are good people who make mistakes. We lust, lie, and feed our pride because we possess a sin-loving heart, thanks to great granddaddy, Adam.
Our Hell-bound Doom
The result of the first action is condemnation. “Condemnation” is a legal term that means to sentence someone to doom. Who gets doomed? Paul says, “to all men.” No one escapes.
What is the doom? An eternity in hell. Just as you’d expect a good judge to sentence a convicted criminal to appropriate punishment, so God’s goodness rightly announces our punishment which is an eternity of suffering in hell, separated from Him forever.
By this time we’re all really starting to appreciate Adam. This guy messed up everything. But although Adam is blamable, you can’t just blame him. We still have freedom to make choices, and even though we know the right thing to do, very often we pick the wrong path. God is not punishing people helplessly forced to commit evil actions, but responsible, knowledgeable, choice-making individuals who put their way before His. In a very real sense, where you are today, whether it’s a bad or good situation, is largely the result of your actions. We make choices and choices bring consequences.
Our Christ-anchored Forgiveness
But fellow sinner, I write not only to bring you bad news, but incredibly good news.
The first action was sin and its result, condemnation, thanks to Adam the fruit-picker.
But the second action is sacrifice and its result, forgiveness, thanks to God the Forgiver.
Paul writes, “...even so through one act of righteousness there resulted justification of life to all men” (Rom 5:18).
What was this act of righteousness? The most merciful act to ever occur since the creation of the universe: the act of Jesus’ death. In Jesus’ death you will find no greater example of mercy in the history of the world.
And what was its result? “Justification of life to all men.” “Justification” is the very oppostive of "condemnation"; it means to be acquitted of guilt. It is for God the Judge to look at us standing before His bench and to shout for the whole world to hear—loud enough to reach the ears of the devil himself, “Not guilty!” How can God do this for spiritual criminals like ourselves? Because God’s Son paid the penalty for your sin. Justice was served and now He offers full acquittal!
Please understand, fellow sinner, just because Jesus died does not mean you are forgiven. When Paul says that Christ’s act of righteousness results in “justification of life to all men” he is not saying that all people are forgiven of their sins, but that all who trust in Jesus Christ’s act of righteousness are forgiven (John 1:12).
In Last Kiss, a love song written in the 1970’s and was later redone by Pearl Jam, the singer sings about his girlfriend who died and went to heaven. Then he sings,
Oh where, oh where, can my baby be?
The Lord took her away from me.
She’s gone to heaven, so I’ve got to be good.
So I can see my baby when I leave this world.
Does this song not express the cry of a million peoples' hope, the hope that if I just be good enough, God will let me into heaven? But if this hope was true, why did Jesus have to die? He lived the life that you and I failed to live and He died the death that you and I deserve to die, and He did this all because all our good works could never cancel out even one of our sinful decisions.
Do you feel your heart beating in your chest? Do you realize that your life depends on the persistent beating of that muscle? If you went into heart arrest right now, and found yourself standing before God’s holy throne, and God said, “John, Mary, why should I not condemn you?” I hope that your answer would be not in the first person, but in the third. Not “Lord, because I,” but “Lord, because He.”
He died for my sin. He rose from the dead. And through Him I now have a second Daddy.