Hey, Cobblestone,
Think about your father’s name. Write it on a nearby napkin
or imagine it as a hologram in the middle distance. Take out the vowels. Now try
to say it. Weird, huh? Yeah, it’s weird for me too: my father’s name was Ed.
Try it again, this time reading from right to left. Hmm, no better.
Before the Word became
flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14), the word for God was a mash-up of
other words, minus the vowels. Jesus had a better idea.
Jesus blew the lid off the tetragam YHWH, the four-letter,
vowel-deficient name assigned to our God. God the Son invited us, his adopted
brothers and sisters, out of the chill and into the warmth of “Abba.” Or, if
Aramaic is a no-go for you, simply “Father.” While his countrymen whispered a
breathless label, Jesus spoke heartily of the rich and wonderful closeness of
father and child. His critics were stunned.
Jesus was delivered into a culture that would not speak “The
Name” out loud. God was far away and long ago, yet near enough in time and space
to throw a lightning bolt your way. Whether from fear, respect, or lack of
familiarity, The Name was not spoken. And here comes Jesus, who, even while his
earthly dad was nearby, talked about being in his Father’s house (Luke 2:49), meaning the great temple in Jerusalem.
What a radical idea.
To quote a recently departed brother, one J.I. Packer:
“’Father’ is the New Testament name for God.” You can thank Jesus for that. No,
really, go right ahead. If not for the Son bringing the image of the invisible God to earth (Colossians 1:15) and the exact imprint of his nature into
view (Hebrews 1:3), we might still be stuck with a stone-cold tetragram. Brrr.
How far away is the Father? How close? When’s the last time
you checked?
Some country music singer made a lot of money saying, “I saw
God today,” in the sight of a small flower growing up through the crack of a
city sidewalk. Given a small flower’s odds of survival there, I’d sure like to
have a more reliable manifestation of Abba’s presence and care. What could that
manifestation be?
Let me describe the trick I play on myself at times, and see
if it strikes a note of recognition in you. I get to thinking: Maybe Abba is
distant or distracted, like my dad sometimes was, or as I’ve been with my own
children. Maybe today is a discipline day, and I’d rather try to hide behind
petty accomplishments. Maybe I’ll strain and make a sincere effort, but still
not pick up what the Father is putting down. Any number of disappointments
could befall me, so I don’t seek him out at all.
“Thank you, Father – the trick doesn’t work on me every day,
or even most days. Most days, you un-trick me.”
Reluctant to go back to Egypt and deliver his kin, Moses said
to God, “If I come to the people of
Israel and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they
ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” (Exodus 3:13). God’s
reply was the beginning of understanding for his people. Eventually, the
tetragram would be built from what God said back to Moses: “I am who I am.” And
he said, “Say this to the people of Israel: ‘I am has sent me to you.’” (verse 14).
Let’s do this: I’ll take the reluctance I feel going into
this day, and you take yours, and we’ll plug it all into a four-word prayer.
“Are you close, Father?”
“I am.”
Break out, sister. Overcome, brother. Abba is closer than you
imagine. Jesus made a way. Feel free to walk there, all day every day.
Grace and Peace (no tricks involved),
John
No comments:
Post a Comment