God the Father

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

June 21, 2015

God the Father

Selected Texts

The eyes stare straight ahead,

without emotion,

the mouth set, lips slightly pursed;

he sits in regal splendor.

It is an image painted almost 600 years ago,

painted as part of an altarpiece

for a cathedral in the city of Ghent in Belgium.

It is a painting of God the Father.

One hundred years later

Michelangelo would paint God as Creator

on the ceiling of the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel,

bringing life to Adam and all the world.

But in 1430 the brothers Hubert and Jan Van Eyck

painted God as Father

for one of the panels hung above the altar

in the Ghent cathedral.

God our Father;

our Father in Heaven.

How many times does Jesus refer to God as Father?

Certainly we know that

when he taught his disciples to pray,

Jesus said, “Pray then this way,

‘Our Father in heaven,

hallowed be your name’.”

(Matthew 6:9)

Read through our Lord’s Sermon on the Mount,

and you’d find that Jesus refers to God as Father

a dozen times.

God the Father.

Not The Lord Almighty,

Not God our King,

Not God the Ruler of the Universe;

just, “Father”,

our Father.

We hear the word “father”

and it likely means something different

for each of us:

Someone kind and loving;

someone strong and reliable;

someone funny and supportive;

someone sorely missed;

someone cold and unforgiving;

someone temperamental and critical;

someone even cruel and abusive.

What is it that Jesus wants us to learn

about God as Father,

his Father, our Father?

Does Jesus want us to learn that

God is a stern, unyielding, angry Father,

as we often think the Old Testament portrays God,

a God that frightened the children of Israel so

that they said to Moses,

“You speak to us, and we will listen;

but do not let God speak to us,

or we will die.”

(Exodus 20:19)

Or does Jesus want to learn,

as the Old Testament reveals in abundance,

that God is loving,

forgiving,

caring,

nurturing:

a father who wants us to draw near;

a father who created us,

who formed us,

who redeemed us;

a father who calls us by name,

who longs to make for us

“a feast of rich food,

a feast of well-matured wines;
[a father who] will swallow up death forever,

and wipe away the tears from all faces.”
(Isaiah 25 and 43)

“For surely I know the plans I have for you,”

[says our Father in Heaven to you and to me]

“plans for your welfare and not for harm,

to give you a future with hope.

Then when you call upon me

and come and pray to me,

I will hear you.

When you search for me, you will find me;”

(Jeremiah 29:11)

This is the Father Jesus wants us to know,

the Father who will be our

“everlasting light and our glory”
(Isaiah 60:9)

Now, of course we cannot paint God

just with male features;

God transcends gender

and Scripture reveals God’s maternal side as well.

But Jesus pointedly spoke of God as Father,

even God as Abba,

an Aramaic term of endearment

that doesn’t convey the formality of “father”

as much as it conveys the closeness of

“Dad” or even “Pop”,

that wonderful term we hear more often these days

in old movies: Micky Rooney as Andy Hardy

sitting down with his beloved Pop, Judge Hardy,

looking for a little wisdom,

a little guidance, a little encouragement,

maybe even a little straightening out.

We are still stunned by the

brutal murders of the 9 men and women

in Charleston this past week

all of them gunned down in a church,

killed because of the color of the skin,

killed by a young man whose face and features

are more a boy’s than a man’s.

We’ve all had our anguished questions,

from “why did this happen?”

to “how do we put a stop to such violence,

such tragedy?”

I’ve had those questions too.

But the questions that seem to keep

bubbling up to the top for me are:

where were his parents,

and what did they teach him?

And more specifically,

what did this young man’s father teach him

as he was growing up?

We are not, after all, born as bigots or racists.

Haters are gonna hate only if they learn hatred.

Someone teaches another hatred,

racism,

bigotry;

someone fans the flames.

Someone says, “those people,

they are different,

they are bad,

they’re threatening,

they’re dangerous.

Something must done to them;

we must do something about them,

or they might do something to us. ”

And such teaching often comes from a father.

Now I know nothing about the young man’s upbringing,

nothing about his family life,

nothing about his father,

so I certainly neither judge nor condemn;

but still, the questions burn in my mind.

Fathers:  what are you teaching your children?

What are you teaching your

daughters as well as your sons?

No, you’re not teaching them hatred,

racism, or

bigotry,

but are you teaching them tolerance or intolerance?

Are you teaching them acceptance or judgment?

Are you teaching them compassion or indifference?

Are you teaching them mercy, kindness, charity?

Are you teaching them we are all created in God’s image,

or are you teaching them some are

more equal than others,

some are inferior to others?

Are you teaching them to reach out,

or draw back and build walls?

Are you teaching them to add their voice

to the growing chorus

calling for the death sentence for the young man?

Or are you teaching them to add their voice

to the smaller chorus,

the remarkable chorus,

that has come from some of the families

of those killed,

voices  offering forgiveness,

forgiveness even in the face of what so far,

has been a complete lack of repentance

on the part of the young man.

Fathers: are you teaching your children

 what our Lord Jesus has taught us:

“For if you forgive others …,

your heavenly Father will also forgive you;

but if you do not forgive others,

neither will your Father forgive you.”

(Matthew 6:14)

It was a mother who said to the murderer,

“You took something very precious away from me…

I will never talk to [my daughter] ever again.

I will never be able to hold her again.

But I forgive you”

(New York Times, June 20, 2015)

Fathers, could you say those words?

would you say such words?

Could you teach them to your children?

Would you teach them to your children?

Would you teach them not only by your words,

but by example,

by how you live your life?

God our Father is not some stern, detached king,

sitting on his throne,

his eyes looking past us,

focused on loftier matters.

No, God is our Father

who longs to make his home among us,

dwell with us,

be with us,

so that he can wipe away every tear,

and mourning,

and crying

and pain;

he longs to dwell among us so he can

even wipe away death.

(Revelation 21:3)

This is God our Father,

our Abba,

our Love.

AMEN