Main passages: Genesis 3:23–24; Genesis 4:1–16; John 20:11–12

A Tree Covered With White Flags

I want to share a familiar story with you. A young man committed a horrible crime and went to prison for a long time. It embarrassed his family and caused them so much shame. Before his release, he wrote to his father: I will be coming home on the train that passes our house. If you want me back, put one white flag on the tree.

He never received a reply. On the day, as the train drew closer, he was so afraid that he looked down — and when he finally looked up, he could not believe it. He did not see one flag. He saw hundreds. The tree was covered with white flags; the whole area was covered. It was his father's overwhelming answer: You are forgiven. You are loved. I want you to come home.

That is the heart of everything I want to say, and it is why I have titled it "Coming Home."

Face to Face With God

When I imagine the beginning, I picture Adam opening his eyes for the very first time — and the first thing he saw was the face of God, who had just breathed life into his nostrils. Every moment Adam lived was communion: God bringing him the animals to name, God walking with His little family in the cool of the day. The proximity was intimate, close, tight-knit.

Then the enemy came to Eve. She took the fruit, gave some to Adam, and their eyes were opened. God drove them out of the garden: He "placed the cherubim and a flaming sword that turned every way to guard the way to the tree of life" (Genesis 3:24) — on the east side of Eden.

But notice: the fellowship was not over. God still spoke to them. Eve could say she had brought forth a son with the Lord's help, and God still came and talked with Cain. The conversation continued — but the proximity had decreased. Sin had begun to push humanity away from the presence of God.

Cain: "My Punishment Is Greater Than I Can Bear"

God intervened in Cain's heart before the murder. He warned him that sin "is crouching at the door," and told him, "you must rule over it" (Genesis 4:7). Even with God intervening, Cain could not overcome. He called his brother out to the field and killed him.

God's punishment was that the ground would no longer yield its crops to Cain and that he would be a wanderer on the earth. And here is what strikes me: Cain was not most grieved that he had murdered his brother. He cried, "My punishment is greater than I can bear" (Genesis 4:13), because, as he said, "from your face I shall be hidden" (Genesis 4:14). What he could not bear was the loss of God's presence — no more communion, no more conversation. It was the last time Cain ever talked with God.

As Close as He Could Get

"Then Cain went away from the presence of the LORD and settled in the land of Nod, east of Eden" (Genesis 4:16). Cain, who would live almost a thousand years, could have settled anywhere — the hills of the Himalayas, the north of Europe, anywhere his feet could stretch. He had been front-row to every beautiful thing God ever created. But he settled in Nod, east of Eden — as close as he could get to where he had come from. In my heart I believe Cain was hoping, somehow, to get back to where he had been with God. He got as close as he was allowed.

And I believe that is the story of humanity. You and I have found ourselves in Nod, east of Eden — in one of two groups. Some of us have never met God, never seen His face, never experienced His presence or His love. Others of us once walked with Him, heard His voice, and knew His joy — but guilt, shame, and condemnation drove us out, and we settled just outside the garden.

An Entrance Facing East

Here is what I love about the Father: His heart has always been to bring humanity back. In the Old Testament He built the tabernacle, a home for Himself in the midst of His people — outer courts, inner courts, the Holy of Holies, and one entrance. And do you know which way the entrance faced? East — toward where humanity was camped. It was the Father saying: You are welcome. You are forgiven. There is a way back into My home.

Two Angels, and the Way Back In

The last time humanity saw angels in the way, they stood east of Eden with a flaming sword, saying: do not enter. But come to John 20. Mary stood weeping outside the tomb of Jesus, "and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet" (John 20:12). God could have sent one angel with the news. Instead, two angels sat where Jesus had lain — no sword, no barrier — saying, in effect: Welcome. This is the way in.

Because Jesus Himself is that way: "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me" (John 14:6). You are welcome back to the Father's heart, and He is the only way back in.

A White Flag Over This Church

So we have an obligation. When we walk out into the streets and see our neighbors, our friends, our family, our responsibility is to put a white flag over this church that says: You are forgiven. You are loved. You are welcome back to the Father.

And let me remind you of the same thing. No matter how often the enemy tells you that you are rejected, forsaken, no longer approved — there is an overwhelming white flag over your life. And this forgiveness was not cheap. It was not sheep, not a symbol, not a casual word of pardon. A price was paid: the blood of Jesus, crying out on your behalf, cleansing us from all unrighteousness.

I closed by praying over us: Thank You, Father, for Your overwhelming yes to us — that You love us, approve of us, and see us; that like the father of the prodigal son, Your eye is always toward the gate, watching for the one who is coming home. And if anyone feels undeserving today, may He cover you with His presence and remind you of the price that was paid for you. You are forgiven. You are loved. Come home.

Coming Home (Sunday Oct 18, 2026)