Читать книгу The Life We Claim - James C. Howell - Страница 12

When you pray, say "Our Father." (Matthew 6:9, AP)

By definition, God must be all-mighty, and the Bible goes to great lengths to persuade us never to underestimate the omnipotence of God. "For with God nothing will be impossible" (Luke 1:37). Yet, omnipotence can feel impersonal, maybe even intimidating; before raw power, we cower. "Omnipotence can be feared, but never loved" (Jürgen Moltmann).³ God could not bear to be known as merely "Almighty," so God decided, "I will be their Father." We believe in God "the Father Almighty."

Of course, many modern people question how a good God could be all-mighty, with all the agonized suffering that goes on. We will not dodge these questions, but we will need to wait until chapters 6 through 8 to think through where exactly God turns up in the face of suffering.

Many modern people question calling God "Father." Some fathers are distant, cold, or harsh, and children who grow up with such fathers can be terribly confused about God. Some people ask why we use "Father" instead of "Mother." We know God is not a male, and men frequently do not behave in Godlike ways. The Bible itself is adorned with feminine images for God; and I love these words from the medieval mystic, Julian of Norwich:

As truly as God is our Father, so truly is God our Mother, and he reveals this in everything, saying to us, "I am the power and goodness of fatherhood; I am the wisdom and the tender love of motherhood; I am the light and the grace which is all blessed love; I am the great supreme goodness of every thing; I make you to love; I cause you to long; I am the fulfillment of all your desires."⁴

We call God "Father" for one reason only: when Jesus spoke to God, he called God "Abba," an Aramaic word that a little child would use when curled up on the father's lap; even a grown child would continue to use this endearing term of affection. Jesus enjoyed such an intimate relationship with the "almighty" God that he spoke to him tenderly as "Abba." The disciples noticed and marveled. Jesus' whole mission, we might say, was to invite them (and us) to discover what it is to curl up on the lap of almighty God, look up, and simply say, "Abba."

Jesus taught us to pray "Our Father." This intimacy seems presumptuous; how dare we? For we are so different from God, so distant, so un-dependent, so frivolous and naughty at times. Jesus grants us an astounding permission: you, even you, can be on such intimate terms with the holy God. This is all grace, of course. When an infant is baptized, we witness the humbling, hopeful truth that we are small, vulnerable, entirely dependent on the unearnable mercy of God, and we remain forever that way. We always live before God as those who are, as Karl Barth phrased it, "inept, inexperienced, unskilled, and immature. [We] may and can be masters and even virtuosos in many things, but never in what makes [us] Christians, God's children."⁵ Jesus said, "Unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:3). Notice also Jesus taught us to pray "Our Father" (instead of "My Father")! We do not believe alone; we need not go solo, and in fact, we cannot. We are saved to be part of a community, part of a family: the body of Christ. And we may even pray on behalf of those who do not pray and acknowledge for even them that God is our Father.

We may also recall that in the biblical world, sons were apprenticed to their fathers; they learned their trade from watching and mimicking the fathers. So, "saying 'our father' isn't just the boldness of walking into the presence of the living and almighty God and saying, 'Hi, Dad.' It is the boldness of saying 'Please may I, too, be considered an apprentice son.' It means signing on for the kingdom of God" (Tom Wright).⁶