Born of God

John 1:12-13, John 3:3-8

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“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light. The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.

John opens his Gospel by showing us that Jesus—the Word—is eternal, divine, and the very source of life and light. Everything was created through Him, and nothing exists apart from Him.

Into a dark and broken world, Jesus came shining with the light of God’s truth and grace—a light no darkness can overcome. And John the Baptist’s role was to point others to that light, so that all might believe in Him (note, John the Baptist is not the author, this is John the Apostle, one of Christ’s closest friends and companions).

But, last week we looked at these words of John:

He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him.

Last Sunday, we considered the implications of Christ’s own creation rejecting Him.

Jesus, the Creator of the world, entered His own creation, yet was not recognized or received, even in His home town.

The One who made His people, came near in love, but they turned Him away.

But , in today’s texts (12-13) John reminds us that not everyone turned Him away.

But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.”

In today’s text, John turns the corner—from rejection to redemption, from darkness to light!

These two verses show us that the story of Jesus entering the world isn’t primarily about who rejected Him—but who received Him, and what that means for us.

Because receiving Jesus isn’t just about agreeing with some facts about Him. It’s about believing in His name in such a way that it changes who you are at the deepest level.

John says those who believe are given “the right to become children of God.”

That’s identity language. That’s family language.

And notice—this new birth doesn’t come from our family line, or from human effort, or from someone else’s decision.

It’s a miracle of God’s grace. To receive Jesus is to be remade by God—to go from creation to new creation, from stranger to son or daughter.

So today, we’re going to slow down and unpack what it really means to receive Him and to be born of God. 

What does it look like to live out that identity—as children of God, born not of flesh, but of His Spirit?

Pray

“But to all who did receive him”

John contrasts the rejection of Jesus (“His own did not receive Him”) with the radical welcome of those who did. To “receive” Jesus means more than simply hearing about Him—it’s a posture of the heart that welcomes Him for who He truly is: Lord, Savior, and God in the flesh. It’s personal and relational. It’s opening your life to Him, not as a guest, but as King.

The word “receive” implies an act of surrender and trust—it’s not passive. It’s saying, “Jesus, I welcome You. I accept You on Your terms.”

Consider the implications of these words:

Faith begins not with performance, but with receiving what God has already given in Christ.

To receive Him is to stop keeping Jesus at arm’s length—to let His presence, His truth, and His grace reshape our lives.

Every person must respond. The light has come, but we must choose whether to receive or reject it.

This invitation is open to all—no one is beyond the reach of His welcome.

“Who believed in his name”

In the Bible, a “name” represents the fullness of a person—their character, authority, and reputation.

To “believe in His name” means to place your trust in all that Jesus is: the eternal Word, the true Light, the Lamb of God, the Son of God.

It’s not mere intellectual agreement—it’s personal reliance.

Believing in His name means staking your life on His identity and His work. It’s saying, “My hope is not in my goodness, but in who Jesus is and what He has done.”

Again, the implications are staggering:

True belief goes beyond acknowledgment; it produces transformation.

Faith is not a one-time statement—it’s an ongoing trust in the sufficiency of Christ’s name.

Believing in His name means resting in His authority rather than striving for your own.

Our identity and security are tied not to our own name or reputation, but to His.

In short, John is describing two sides of the same coin: receiving Jesus is the outward posture of welcome, while believing in His name is the inward trust that anchors that welcome in faith.

Together, they define what it means to truly come to Christ—and they prepare the way for the breathtaking truth that follows: For those who do are given:

“the right to become children of God”

This phrase—“children of God”—is incredible. In the other Gospels, followers of Jesus are often called sons. But John, the one whom Jesus loved, exclusively uses the term “children.” 

I can’t say for certain why John chooses this distinct word, but I think it’s because he knew the heart of Jesus better than most. John wants us to feel what Jesus felt—His tenderness, His care, His love.

This is the word Jesus Himself often used when speaking to His followers.

Take John 13:33, for example:

John 13:33 ESV

Little children, yet a little while I am with you. You will seek me, and just as I said to the Jews, so now I also say to you, ‘Where I am going you cannot come.’

Picture the scene: Jesus is sharing a final, intimate moment with His disciples before the cross. They are anxious, unsure, even afraid of what is coming. And here’s Jesus, tenderly calling them children. He’s not scolding them. He’s reminding them that even though they can’t follow Him into what He’s about to endure, they are not helpless. They belong to Him. They are His beloved, under His care, adopted into His family.

Or consider John 21:5, after a long, fruitless night of fishing:

John 21:5 ESV

Jesus said to them, “Children, do you have any fish?” They answered him, “No.”

The disciples are trying desperately to move on with their lives. They witnessed the death of Jesus, their beloved teacher, and they didn’t stop it. Imagine, the weight of guilt and shame and regret they feel. And so one day, they’re sitting around grieving in silence together, and Peter stands up and says “that’s it, I’m going fishing” and the others follow suit.

And now, they’re out on the water, trying to forget their failures, but instead they are reminded of them…for they are fisherman that can’t get a bite.

They’re at their wits end.

And what does Jesus do? He comes alongside them gently, guiding them, meeting them where they are. He calls them children, showing patience, affection, and care as He fills their boat, and restores their faith.

What these encounters show us is that being called a child of God is not just about legal standing before God (though it certainly is)— but it’s relational!

It’s personal. It’s about Jesus drawing near, guiding, teaching, and loving us as a parent loves a child.

When John says that believers are given the “right to become children of God,” he’s connecting that eternal truth with the everyday reality of Jesus’ care and presence.

When your child is hurt, you stop everything to help them.

When they wander in your room at 3am because they’re scared, you cuddle them up in your arms.

When they run away, everything else stops, and you find them and welcome them home (trust me on this one)

Receiving Jesus and believing in His name isn’t just about escaping condemnation or gaining salvation, far too often that’s all that’s preached—it’s about entering a family where love, guidance, and belonging define your identity.

We see this pattern throughout John’s Gospel.

In John 1:43–51, we see one of the first invitations Jesus gives to His followers. He finds Philip and simply says, “Follow me.” Philip doesn’t fully know what following Jesus will mean—he doesn’t yet understand the cross, the miracles, or the kingdom of God—but he responds in faith. That simple act of trust becomes an opening for someone else. Philip goes to Nathanael and says, “We have found the one Moses and the prophets wrote about!”

Nathanael is skeptical at first. He doubts that anything good could come from Jesus’ hometown of Nazareth. But when Jesus meets him, He demonstrates a knowledge of Nathanael’s character and heart that only God could know. Nathanael realizes he is encountering more than a teacher or prophet—he is encountering God Himself. Jesus then tells him, “You will see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.” In other words, Nathanael is invited into a completely new reality—a life in God’s family, where heaven itself is connected to the life of those who follow Him.

And this is true even amidst failure. Consider John 21, after Jesus’ resurrection. Peter had denied knowing Jesus three times during the night of Jesus’ arrest, and no doubt he felt shame, guilt, and fear that he had blown his chance to belong. But Jesus meets him on the shore, where the disciples are fishing. He asks Peter three times, “Do you love me?”—mirroring the three denials—and each time Peter affirms his love. Jesus responds each time with a command: “Feed my sheep.”

In this moment, Peter is restored. He is forgiven. His failure doesn’t disqualify him from God’s family. Instead, he is reaffirmed as a child of God, with a purpose and a place in the work of the kingdom.

Being a child of God is transformative, ongoing, and resilient. It changes your identity, it changes your mission, and it is not lost when you stumble or fail.

Notice the repeated themes in these encounters:

Belonging: We are welcomed into God’s family.

Care: Jesus meets us where we are with patience, guidance, and love.

Purpose: Children are invited to participate in God’s work in the world.

Transformation: Being born of God changes who we are from the inside out.

So when John writes,

“To all who receive Him, who believe in His name, He gave the right to become children of God,”

he is inviting us into a story that begins with receiving, continues with believing, and culminates in a new identity—a life lived in relationship with the One who calls us His own.

And the beauty of it is this: no darkness, no failure, no rejection can ever overcome it. Once we are His children, we are His forever, welcomed into His family, guided by His hand, and transformed by His Spirit.

This is the meaning of “new birth” or to use a popular Baptist phrase, this is what it means to be “Born Again.”

This is a term that has often been distorted. It’s become an increasingly political term…but, it stems from an encounter that is anything but:

John 3:3–8 ESV

Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

Jesus has a conversation with Nicodemus, a respected teacher and Pharisee. Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night, curious but confused, and Jesus tells him something that would have sounded almost impossible: “Unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Nicodemus takes it literally—he thinks Jesus means returning to the womb. But Jesus is talking about a spiritual rebirth, a transformation that only God can give.

Becoming a child of God is not something we can earn, manufacture, or inherit through family or effort—it is entirely God’s work.

Receiving Jesus and believing in His name brings us into a family we could never enter on our own.

And so in John 1, after John declares that believers are given the “right to become children of God” he then describes them as those:

John 1:13 ESV

who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

“Who were born”

The word “born” here is not just metaphorical—it points to a radical new beginning. It’s a spiritual birth, a transformation so profound that John can describe it in the same terms as physical birth. To be born of God means a complete reorientation of life: from living for ourselves to living for Him. It signals that the believer has entered a new realm of existence—one defined by God’s presence and power rather than human limitations.

What’s interesting about Nicodemus, is he had power, and lived a life free of the limitations many faced. He was powerful and successful and important. But yet, he knew he was made for more, he longed for that which he could not yet see!

Just as physical birth brings a baby into a family with a new identity and new relationships, spiritual birth brings us into God’s family with a new identity, new life and a new reality.

For the Christian is born:

“Not of blood”

“Not of blood” refers to natural lineage or heritage. In other words, becoming a child of God is not inherited biologically. You can’t be a Christian simply because your parents were, or because you were born into a Christian culture. Spiritual birth transcends human ancestry.

This is important! (Friend in Rhode Island Story)

Past or social circumstances don’t define your spiritual identity; God does.

For it is:

“Not of the will of the flesh”

“The will of the flesh” points to human effort, ambition, or trying to produce salvation through our own works. We might try to earn favor with God through morality, religion, or sheer determination—but John emphasizes that spiritual birth cannot be achieved through our own effort.

Your transformation doesn’t depend on your performance, discipline, or achievements—it depends on God.

In fact, spiritual birth requires letting go of self-reliance in order to trust fully in God’s grace.

This is the freedom Christ gives us, releasing us from the exhausting cycle of trying to earn approval from God or others.

Faith is not about “doing more,” it’s about receiving more of Him. Because His love is:

“Not of the will of man”

“The will of man” refers to decisions made by other people—parents, religious leaders, or society. Becoming God’s child is not the result of someone else’s choice on your behalf. It is not something imposed, instructed, or coerced—it is a personal encounter and response to Christ.

Again, faith in Jesus can’t be produced by upbringing, church membership, or cultural values—true life in God requires your own response.

A response born not of your own goodness:

“But of God”

This is the climax of the verse. Spiritual birth is entirely God’s work, originating from His initiative, power, and love.

God chooses, regenerates, and transforms those who receive Jesus and believe in His name.

The new birth is supernatural, divine, and wholly gracious, a complete, supernatural transformation.

Thus, we are a people who cooperate with His Spirit rather than trying to manufacture holiness on your own.

This is what it means to be:

Live as Children of God

Closing:

I want to close this morning, by really trying to drive home the significance of what God’s word is telling us today.

I was born of my mother. I was born of the flesh. This means I walk the earth with senses that allow me to see and experience physical reality. I hear the birds sing, I enjoy the sight of the trees changing in the fall, and I feel love for those who are near to me.

I like movies, I like to go to dinner, and I find it healing to work outside with my hands. These are all gifts—good gifts—given by God to every person born of the flesh.

Because God made a physical world that is meant to be enjoyed and received with gratitude.

But Jesus tells us that through Him, we are born again. This time, not of flesh, but of the Spirit. The work He does in us brings to life what sin had once left lifeless. The Holy Spirit awakens the parts of us that were numb, blind, and deaf to God, and the spiritual realities He created.

So now, we can see more than just what is visible—we can see the glory of Christ. We can hear more than just sound—we can hear the voice of our Shepherd. We can feel more than passing affection—we can know the deep, eternal love of the Father.

To be born of God means to be alive in ways we never were before. It means that while everyone walks through this same physical world, only those born of the Spirit walk it as sons and daughters—children who see their Father’s hand in every sunrise, every breath, every mercy that meets them along the way.

And it also means, that we grow in our awareness of spiritual realities.

An amphibian is a creature that spends some of it’s life in the water and some of it’s life on the land, they walk back and forth between two worlds, knowing how to thrive in both.

And in my ways, that’s an illustration of the Christian life.

Because we live in two worlds now. We enjoy the goodness of creation, yet we draw our strength and our life from the Spirit of God, who lives within us.

And we call upon the power of the heavenly hosts who surround us!

This is what Jesus was trying to help Nicodemus understand in John 3. Nicodemus could see the physical world clearly—but he was blind to the spiritual one. And Jesus gently, but firmly, called him to wake up to a deeper reality—to be born again, to see and move in both realms.

That’s what happens when we become children of God. We are no longer limited to the natural—we are made alive to the supernatural.

Think about the implications of the word children that Christ loves to use for His people.

It’s not just an affectionate term—it reveals what He wants for us.

He told His disciples, “you must become like little children.”

A child trusts. A child receives. A child delights.

When a parent gives a child an ice cream cone, that child doesn’t ask, “Is this organic?” they don’t have anxiety wondering “What’s his motive?”

They just receive it. They enjoy it. They let it melt down their hand, and cover their face and laugh as they go.

That’s what childlike faith looks like—trust that receives God’s gifts without anxiety or fear. Frankly, without full understanding.

But so often, like Nicodemus, we are too cautious, too rational, too dulled to the spiritual reality that Christ has opened to us.

We believe in heaven, but we rarely draw from it. We say we walk by faith, but most of our lives are managed by sight.

What if we began to live as children again—wide-eyed to the wonder of the Kingdom? What if we prayed, not just as a religious duty, but as a conversation with the living God, our Father, who walks with us right now? What if we opened Scripture expecting to hear the voice of Jesus—not just read about Him? What if we slowed down long enough in our days to notice the Spirit whispering peace in the middle of the noise that frightens us? What if we began to live with that “amphibian awareness”—moving through the natural world, but constantly breathing in the air of heaven?

You see, this is the mystical beauty of the Christian life—it’s not about escaping this world, but learning to live in it with new eyes. To see the sacred woven through the ordinary. To receive every good thing—a meal, a sunset, a friendship—as a reminder of the Father’s love. To trust that the same Spirit who hovered over the waters of creation is hovering now, over your heart, breathing new life into your weary soul.

So here’s the invitation today:

Wake up to the other world you were made for. Ask the Spirit to awaken your childlike wonder again. Take time this week to be with Jesus—not just to talk about Him, but to sit in His presence. Expect Him to meet you in prayer, in Scripture, in the beauty of His creation, and even in the interruptions of your day. Live as one born of heaven, even while your feet still walk the earth.

Because the Christian life is not a checklist to complete—it’s a mystery to be entered. You were not made to simply believe in God from a distance; you were made to walk with Him in both worlds, as His beloved child.

For the same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead now lives in you.

So, yes—enjoy this world. Laugh, rest, eat with friends, walk beneath the fall trees. But don’t forget—you are more than a creature of dust.

You are a child of God, born of heaven, living in two worlds at once.

And as His Spirit fills your inmost being, you become a living sign of what’s possible when heaven meets earth— when a son or daughter of God learns to walk on soil while breathing grace.

To live in such a way, is to live a questionable life. And to live a questionable life, is to live a life that evokes the questions of those longing for the answer, like Nicodemus.

I pray, that our lives would evoke such questions, and that our answers would be unashamedly rooted not in the logic or earth, but the power of heaven.

Let us Pray to that End.

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