On God as Father Easter 5 – Year A

John 14:1-14 April 18, 2008

I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

- John 14:6

I wrote this reflection about a five year old, and a seven year old, that I once knew.

Sometimes I feel for them such deep and consuming affection, the only expression of joy that will suffice is to lift them up in my arms, and hug them as tightly as their still-small bodies can bear, and plaster the cheeks and necks with wet kisses. Sometimes they make me so angry in their obstinacy and their willfulness and their deliberate deceitfulness that it's all I can do to keep from striking them.

Sometimes I miss them so much - even when we've been apart just for a few hours - that I leave vital work undone at the office and violate traffic laws to hustle back home and into their presence. Sometimes their constant, physical, demands for attention - their neediness - is so suffocating, that I find myself bodily pushing them away from me in a desperate move to show my independence…my "otherness."

Sometimes I reel from how quickly they learn, how fast they grow, how speedily they change. And sometimes I long for them to hurry up: to be more responsible, to be more thoughtful, to get with it and grow-up and be more like me.

Caring for them is the most taxing and difficult work of my life. It requires resources of creativity, patience, discipline, awareness, vigilance, kindness, loyalty and affection beyond any job or relationship I have ever experienced. They require of me all the best I have to give.

On the one hand, I know them better than any other that walks this earth. I have held them, stroked them, dressed them and bathed them. I have changed their diapers, wiped their noses, cleaned their ears, mopped up their vomit, cut their nails and brushed their hair. I know the names of their friends, their secret friends, and all of their stuffed animals. I know what they're good at in school, and what they need to work harder at. I know their talents, I know their shortcomings. I know where to tickle them…and I know what I could say that would break their hearts. On the one hand, I know them better than any other that walks this earth.

One the other hand, I hardly know them at all. They exist entirely apart from me, and inhabit their own world….and their own being. They have likes and dislikes unknown to me. Real relationships of which I am not a part, and unique experiences which they initiated…the impact on their lives of which I don't begin to understand. They have fears and hopes and dreams that I do not share…and will never know. On the one hand I know them better than any two human beings that walk this earth. On the other hand I hardly know them at all. They are their own people…they are independent, unique…entirely themselves.

I am determined to be what they need, whatever the cost.

I am determined to provide for them, to protect them, and to help them grow into the full stature of whoever they are called to be. There is nothing I wouldn't do for them. No pain I would not bear, no hurt I would not take on as my own. I fear so much for them. They still seem so little to me...they still seem to have so much to learn. I worry about them all the time - but especially when they are not in my care. I worry especially when they are mad at me…when they would push me away. Because they need me, still. They really do.

But I also know that one of their needs is for me to give them room, to let them make mistakes, to let them make their own way in the world, even if that means they will be hurt…even if that means their lives will be at risk. I know that they are finally free, and that someday soon - probably sooner than I can imagine - I will have to let them go.

And this may be the hardest thing. And it is surely the thing that frightens me most. I fear letting them go: because I know about the world they long to explore: I know how dangerous and mean and seductive it can be. And I fear that they will be hurt. Or die. Or maybe worst of all, I fear that they will leave me and never come back.

They are the most astonishing creation to which I have contributed in all my years on this planet, and I know that nothing I will accomplish in the rest of my days could ever be their equal.

Our relationship is a great paradox. They need me - but they need me to let them be free. They bring me joy - but they create more work and pain in my life than anything else. I know they love me but I also know that I infuriate them by always trying to do what's best for them...even when it's the last thing they want done. I long to keep them close to my heart - but ultimately that means letting them decide whether they will love me back or no.

Most of all...most of all there is the bond between us. There is the intimacy. They have sprung from my very flesh. Our organs and marrow match. They have inherited my genes. They dwell in my house. I gave them my name. There is no other relationship in this world like the one I have with them. I can never put them out of mind…I can hardly forget them for a moment. There is no greater intimacy imaginable than the one we share. I crave their affection as much as anything in the world. When they cuddle in my lap, or hold my face still and look into my eyes when they have something important to tell me…when they pick the lint out of my belly button…my heart leaps. For me, there is nothing in the world like being called, "Dad."

"I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." So says Jesus in this morning's Gospel reading from St. John.

For 2,000 years Christians have called God "Father" because that is what Jesus does…and it is what Jesus invites us to do. And the truth is that this language has caused scandal for all those 2,000 years. That word "Father" is a real stumbling block for many.

- Sometimes it has caused offense because of the presumption of status it bestows upon humanity. As if you or I are so important that we dare call ourselves "children" of God. As if we could be heirs of the Creator!

- Sometimes this language has caused scandal because of the limitations it puts on the Almighty. As if all that God is – that One who brought the whole creation into being - could be adequately described by such a simple, human word. As if THAT word especially – which for so many people is tainted with memories of being exploited, hurt or abandoned by a human "father" – as if THAT word is good enough to talk about God.

- And sometimes the scandal is felt because calling God "Father" would seem to elevate earthly "fathers" – and perhaps all males behind that - to some special place. Why can't we call God "mother" – why can't women share in the special feeling of sharing God's name?

Well – along with many others, "Father" is the word we've inherited. It is an imperfect word – as any word or paragraph of words will surely be to explain for us who God is and how our relationship with God could be. But rather than throw it out – because it cannot say it all or because so many of us had "fathers" who were not up to the name - I wonder of we might use and honor it for what it does have to offer.

"Father" does not so much say something about God as it does about the character of the relationship into which God invites all of human creation. When we call God "Father" we affirm that we wish to participate in the same deep, warm, complicated, paradoxical and most of all intimate kind of love that healthy dads and moms have for their children. We are invited to let God be our parent…and so to call God, "Dad."

Jesus is the first one ever to make this radical claim of intimacy with God in quite such a profound way. Jesus claims to be God's Son. And what he's saying to us this morning is, "I'll show you the way. If you want to have this kind of intimate relationship with God, then follow me. I have made the way plain."

I think it's an image - and a word - worth using. I think we will lose something if we don't.

There are many, many names for God which are celebrated in the Church and come to us straight from the pages of Holy Scripture and the mouths of the prophets – and our Christ – behind all that. These many names are each one good and holy and each one helpful for you and me as we seek to understand more deeply and truly who God is for us. And the fact of these many and different names: YHWH, Spirit, Wisdom, Rock, Word, Lord, Creator, Holy One and all the rest, helps us to remember that any experience or image we may have for God will be too small to say all that needs to be said…or to work for every particular person in every different culture, time or place.

So use the name you will. But know that having permission to cal God "Father" is a gift. It is one of our inheritances from Jesus who was God's only begotten child, and by whom we too become members of God's family. It is not a name meant to identify God as male or to subjugate women or to elevate human fatherhood above other loving relationships. It is a word – a name for God – meant to make very clear and real a quality of relationship into which human beings may enter…

The particular, caring, devoted, relentless, intimate and paradoxical bond that exists between parent and child. Between us children of God…and our Father.

Amen.

J.S. Barker +