Romans 8:12-17
James R. Gorman
June 18, 2000
I've thoroughly enjoyed my role as father these past two weeks. It was marvelous to have Frederick Trost here to play the role of celebrant so I could just be the father of the bride. Fred himself has four daughters and he didn't walk any of them down the aisle. His wife walked one of them down; his son walked another of his sisters down the aisle and one just walked down the aisle with her husband-to-be.
For me it was just a great privilege to walk that walk with Erin and place her hand into the hand of our good new son. It is a great and good role to play, believe me. I recommend it to any and all. And now here we are, a week later and it's Father's Day, and I can stay in the mode of reflecting on the business of fatherhood for a day or two longer.
It sort of keeps the glow going.
I came across this great quote from one of the ancient Church's Fathers by the name of Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, who died in the year 373. This is regarding the relationships between the persons of the Trinity:
"By grace [God] becomes the Father of those whose Maker he already is."
The creator of this cold, vast, terrifying darkness and void becomes father by grace. There's more to this quote from Athanasius, but let me pause here for a moment to contemplate the vast void out of which creation sprang.
I've just started reading E. L. Doctorow's new book called City of God and he opens the book with a discussion of creation from the point of view of the scientists whose work it is to contemplate things like the creation of the universe. They must spend their days contemplating the void into which the universe has expanded. They must entertain ideas such as the creation of space itself. "What does it mean," Doctorow writes,
"to say that ... the universe did not blast into being through space but that space itself, a property of the universe, is what blasted out along with everything in it? What does it mean to say that space is what expanded, stretched, flowered? Into what? The universe expanding even now its galaxies of burning suns, dying stars, metallic monuments of stone, clouds of dust, must be filling ... something." (p. 3)
How does an astronomer contemplate these things without becoming in the process terrified by the vast emptiness and loneliness of those early moments of creation and the continuing movement of the universe into a void which itself has no space or time?
One thing these astronomers and cosmologists do is to invent cute names for all the things they are observing or supposing to have happened. They call this moment of creation, for example, the "Big Bang." Or when contemplating how it will all end, one theory is that the universe will not be able to overcome its own gravity and will be pulled back in upon itself, and this ultimate annihilation of everything is called the "Big Crunch." Or an alternate theory is that the universe will continue to expand but will outrun its own heat and light and that is called the "Big Chill." Cute names for horrifying possibilities.
"Are these clever fellows mocking themselves? Is it a kind of American trade humor they practice out of modesty,.. Or is it bravery under fire, a studied carelessness in the trenches while the metaphysical rounds come in?"
Doctorow notes that contemplating the vast impersonal void that is creation is a horrifying thing. Scientists engage in what Albert Einstein called "thought experiments" such as: If I could travel faster than the speed of light and I held a mirror in front of my face, would I see my reflection? The loneliness that such ideas bring to mind is frightening to say the least.
Athanisius starts with this horrifying premise.
"By grace [God] becomes the Father of those whose Maker he already is. He becomes this when created [humanity] receive[s], as the Apostle says, the Spirit of His Son crying, 'Abba Father' in their hearts. It is these who, having received the Word, have gained power from him to become God's children. Being creatures by nature, they would never have become [children of God] if they had not received the Spirit from Him who is the true son by nature." (Contra Arianos 2.95)
It is by grace that this impersonal Creator of an impersonal, cold and ultimately terrifying creation becomes related personally to me, because I am related to Jesus Christ, who called this vast impersonal force, this immortal, invisible, all-knowing, all-powerful creative force "Abba." Which in Hebrew and Aramaic means "Daddy."
By grace this great impersonal creator becomes a person intimately connected to me and my hopes and dreams. This creator of this vast impersonal void becomes, through Jesus Christ, one who has fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with the creation he has brought into being.
The word "Father" does not mean that God is male (indeed that is heresy), but rather shows the relationship to the Son which, in turn, makes my relationship to God most intimate and possible through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Thus the wonder and marvel of the Holy Trinity, which reveals to us a God who delights in creation and enjoys participating in it all along the way. This is not finally the God of the scientists' nightmares, but the Father of us all.
Father Robert Capon has a marvelous parable about creation that brings home the point of all the persons of the Trinity participating in the divine act of bringing the universe into being.
"Let me tell you why God made the world," Capon writes.
"One afternoon, before anything was made, God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit sat around in the unity of their Godhead discussing one of the Father's fixations. From all eternity, it seems, he had had this thing about being. He would keep thinking up all kinds of unnecessary things - new ways of being and new kinds of beings to be. And as they talked, God the Son suddenly said, "Really, this is absolutely great stuff. Why don't I go out and mix us up a batch." And God the Holy Spirit said, "Terrific! I'll help you." So they all pitched in, and after supper that night, the Son and the Holy Spirit put on this tremendous show of being for the Father. It was full of water and light and frogs; pinecones kept dropping all over the place and crazy fish swam around in the wineglasses. There were mushrooms and grapes, horseradishes and tigers -- and men and women everywhere to taste them, to juggle them, to join them and to love them. And God the Father looked at the whole wild party and said, "Wonderful! Just what I had in mind! Tov! Tov! Tov!" (which is the Hebrew word used in Genesis 1 that means "good"). And all God the Son and God the Holy Spirit could think of to say was the same thing.
"Tov! Tov! Tov!" So they shouted together "Tov meod!" (Hebrew for "very good") and they laughed for ages and ages, saying things like how great it was for beings to be, and how clever of the Father to think of the idea, and how kind of the Son to go to all that trouble putting it together, and how considerate of the Spirit to spend so much time directing and choreographing."
The central claim of the Jewish and Christian traditions is that at the very center of creation, at the very center of the void out of which creation sprang, is a God who rejoices in Fatherhood even more than a Milwaukee pastor giving away his only daughter on an 85 degree Saturday in June of the year 2000.
And that we know this about God through the revelation of Jesus Christ, who called God "Abba" of all things: The title "Father" does not appear very often in the Old Testament. More than that, no one, not even the bravest king or prophet, ever calls God "Daddy." But Jesus does. And in so doing introduces us to a creator God who chooses to be intimate with creation, to love it into being, and to delight in its ongoing party..
I remember years ago hearing the archbishop of Chicago introducing the Lord's Prayer by saying, "We pray these things in the name of Jesus Christ, who called you Father and gave us the courage to pray, 'Our Father, who art in heaven...'."
And thus here we are... on this Father's Day contemplating fatherhood in general and the fatherhood of God.
It is good to be a father. It is good to have a father. And for those who didn't have a father or whose fathers were incompetent at fatherhood, I hope there have been in your lives dutch uncles, or family friends, or older brothers, or others who loved you when you were most needful of love, so that you learned that the world finally is a trustworthy and good place--not cold and terrifying--just as Jesus taught us.