Our Father

(Editor’s note: Earlier this week, long-time Burnside contributor Rachel Pater wrote an excellent, thought-provoking piece on the often problematic depiction of God as male and father.  Months ago, we scheduled this article, by the Merry Monk, to run on Father’s Day.  While Burnside strives to show different and sometimes opposing perspectives, we did not intend for this article to refute or argue with Rachel’s article directly.  The timing may give that impression, but we assure you this was not intentional.)

I sat alone in the dark hospital room, waiting for the nurse. It had been a long day filled with intense emotion, but time was about to stop. The door slowly opened and a silhouette filled the bright doorway. I quickly stood up and the nurse smiled. Then she whispered, “Hello, daddy.”

My daughter was born less than an hour earlier and my wife was recovering from a C-section down the hall. I took a deep breath and reached out my arms to hold my firstborn child for the first time. She was so small, so light and delicate. I tenderly cradled pure beauty wrapped in soft blankets and welcomed her into the world.

I don’t know how long we were left alone in that hospital room. I got lost in the moment, overwhelmed by love as I gazed at my little girl. All at once it struck me; this is what it’s like to be a father.

One day, Jesus’ disciples asked him to teach them how to pray. Jesus said, “like this: ‘Our Father…’” Despite this rather clear teaching, I spent most of my Christian life praying to Jesus instead. I guess he just seemed more approachable than the Father.

You have to admit the Father comes off pretty intense in the Bible. Before you get out of the first book, he’s seen kicking people out of paradise, flooding the world, destroying cities with fire and brimstone, and even ordering his chosen people to cut the skin off of their…well…you get the idea. The last book of the Bible is even worse, depending on whose side you’re on.

Despite these examples and the threat of extreme retribution, I’ve given God the Father plenty to punish. I’m a great sinner and he’s holy, but God the Son is a greater Savior. Our close relationship was a natural. My older brother Jesus has never failed to step in and take the whoopin’ that was rightfully mine.

I probably could have prayed to the Holy Spirit too. I didn’t see him as scary as the Father, but he’s unpredictable. One church I used to worship with was really into praying to the Holy Spirit. My wife and I would sit in the back and hope that no one noticed that we never joined them in doing laps around the sanctuary while screaming.

Now, of course there’s only one God and he doesn’t have Multiple Personality Disorder. That’s why I didn’t think twice about dodging the Father (or even notice I was avoiding him). Steve Brown says that there’s no jealousy within the Trinity and that the important thing about prayer is that we do it. So I prayed…to Jesus.

Then one night after dinner, a good friend of mine and I got to talking and he said that I should be praying to the Father instead. At first, I wrote him off as uptight and thought about not inviting him back over. But he brought up Matthew 6:9 and Luke 11:2 where Jesus taught us to pray and for days I couldn’t get the words out of my head, “When you pray, say: ‘Father…’”

And then the apostle Paul joined my friend in disrupting my prayer life. In Romans 8:15 Paul wrote, “For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” He didn’t tell us we’d cry “Lord” or “Master” or “Jesus,” but “Father.” What’s more, Paul reveals that the Spirit of God the Son himself is within us crying, “Abba, Father” (Galatians 4:6). This is the same way that Jesus addressed God (Mark 14:36). Paul is telling us that we are called into the same intimate relationship with God that Jesus has always enjoyed.

So, on the advice of Jesus, my friend, Paul and the Holy Spirit, I tried it. I started addressing God as Father and my sin made it really uncomfortable. But I kept at it anyway convinced that is what the Bible teaches. That change-combined with becoming a father myself-has revolutionized and deepened my relationship with God.

Theologians tell us that the three Persons of the Trinity eternally exist in perfect loving union. God is one, forming the ground of the union of being, and simultaneously, he’s the archetype of all relationship and diversity. Father, Son and Holy Spirit is perpetual intimate communion, in need of nothing and overflowing with blessedness.

How’s that for a bunch of words? They would probably still be just a bunch of words if I never became a father myself.

The love and bond I have with my children (I have three now) is overwhelmingly intense. However, it’s only the fallen, creaturely shadow of what Father, Son and Holy Spirit have always passionately enjoyed. Always, except for when God the Father turned his back on God the Son as he became sin, bled and died for love of his enemies.

This unimaginable event reveals something of the love of God that Jesus’ self-sacrifice does not and it’s only seen through the eyes of a father. I could take a bullet for my son and maybe I could take one for a friend, but I don’t think I could take a bullet for an enemy. Yet, God the Son loved his enemies so much that he laid down his life so that we could join him in calling God “Father.” Now, think about this: While I could maybe take a bullet for a friend, I would not sacrifice my son’s life for even my wife. What’s more, it’s absolutely absurd to think that I’d push my son in the way of a bullet to save the life of an enemy. But God the Father suffered the loss of his beloved Son for the love of his enemies so we could be transformed into many sons and daughters and join him in glory for the rest of eternity (Hebrews 2:10).

“What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies” (Romans 8:31-33).

It’s madness to question the approachability or love of our Father. How did I ever think that my sin is so dark, that the great light of our Father’s love can’t consume it? All of his intensity in the Bible from Genesis to Revelation is about making our union with him possible. Leviticus 26:12 expresses the Father’s heart for us and the message of his book from beginning to end is, “I will walk among you and will be your God, and you shall be my people.” O. Palmer Robertson calls this the “Immanuel Principle” of God’s covenants, “God is with us.”

Now that I’ve seen this, one of my favorite prayers is, “Thank you, Father, that you’re not who I thought you were.” I realize now that it doesn’t matter what I’ve done or who I’ve done it with; all I have to do is open myself to the Spirit of God. You too. When the Spirit possesses us, he unites us with the body of God the Son and gently brings us to the point when we cry, “Abba!”

Then, one day, we’ll wake up in our Heavenly Father’s strong arms to be tenderly cradled and welcomed into the blessed communion of the Trinity. The passage of time will slow to a standstill and we’ll get lost in the eternal moment as we’re overwhelmed by love. We’ll gaze on the Father through the eyes of the Son and feel the passionate warmth of his gaze in return. All at once it will strike us; this is what it’s like to call God Father.

But you don’t have to wait until you die to start experiencing this. Join with me today as I pray, “Our Father…”