Even if you didn’t grow up saying the “Our Father” every Sunday, it would be nearly impossible to grow up in church and not hear God called Father. Because of this, it never occurred to me that Jesus was doing something radical when He presented God Almighty as Father. I knew Jesus called God Father frequently, but I wondered about the Old Testament. A quick search revealed that the term doesn’t occur very often. Not even David, who had an incredibly intimate relationship with God, used that term, though he gave us such vivid terms as Rock, Fortress, and Stronghold.
A little more research confirmed my initial impression. Baker’s Evangelical Dictionary of Biblical Theology gives the numbers: 15 times in the Old Testament, while Jesus uses “Father” over 100 times in the gospel of John alone.
It occurs to me that we needed the Son of God to show us God as Father. Jesus knows God no other way. If Isaac has a friend over, he doesn’t say, “This is Mr. Butcher” as an introduction; no, it’s “This is my Dad.” The difference, of course, is that Isaac’s friend can’t call me “dad”; the friend will never become a part of the family. Jesus, on the other hand, offers us a chance to become sons and daughters. As Paul says, “we have received the Spirit of adoption as sons.”
Martin Luther offers some thoughts on why we pray to God as Father:
How should we address God? How should we honor the one we pray to? And how should we present ourselves so that he will be gracious and willing to listen to us? No name anywhere makes a more favorable impression on God than the name “Father.†Calling him Father is a friendly, affectionate, deep, and heartfelt way to address him. It wouldn’t comfort us nearly so much if we were to call him Lord, or God, or Judge. For the name Father is instinctive and naturally affectionate. That is why hearing us call him Father pleases God the most and moves him to listen to us. By doing so, we acknowledge ourselves as children of God, which again stirs God’s heart. For there is no voice more dear to a father than his own child’s voice.
Charis means grace, and that’s what this blog is about: grace, in all its—sometimes messy, always magnificent—manifestations. I’m Dan Butcher, and I invite you to join me in learning to lead a Christ-centered, grace-filled life.