“What kind of Father…” (Full Service)
Sermon begins at 31:32
"What kind of Father..."
Many of you know that I’m a fan of super hero movies, and of Marvel super hero movies in particular. And I noticed something about a few of those heroes recently – and that’s that many of them either didn’t have a dad, or didn’t have the kind of relationship with their dad that most of us would have wanted.
Tony Stark, otherwise known as Ironman, for all his technical genius, never felt he could live up to the image or the expectations of his own accomplished father. And, as a result, Tony went the other way altogether, living the life of a billionaire playboy until, in a moment of crisis, a sense of responsibility -- both for himself and for the world finally took hold.
And Peter Parker, aka Spiderman, didn’t even know his father. He grew up in the home of his Uncle Ben and Aunt May. And even Uncle Ben was taken away from Peter, and at the point of the greatest crisis of Peter’s life. All Peter was left with were the words of Uncle Ben ringing in his ears: “With great power comes great responsibility.”
Even Thor, the mightiest Avenger (unless you ask the Hulk) came face to face with the painful reality that his own priorities were not those of his father. Not that either was completely wrong. But power needed to be accompanied by wisdom. Courage with prudence. Interestingly, even Thor’s moment of discovery had to do with developing a sense of personal responsibility…
But I share all of that with you, not because I want to spend the morning talking comic books, but because all of that reflects an even broader trend in our society. In recent years, countless characters in countless shows and movies have either lacked a father-figure, or else have tended to blame their dads for all of their troubles and all of their woes…
And there’s no doubt that our parents do have a profound influence on us – one that can last for much, if not all of our lives. An influence which, for some people, can certainly be not only troublesome, but tragic. I’d never want to underplay the pain that has been a part of all too many families, and all too many homes…
But there’s also a very real danger with that kind of sweeping social commentary, and that’s that, all too often, it casts the net too widely. It may be accurate in some circumstances, but it certainly isn’t accurate in all. Because a lot of us would not only not blame our dads – but would actually give credit to our dads – for the people we’ve become. For many, the basic life skills we depend on have been picked up from them: the ability to change a tire, for instance, or balance a budget. And on a deeper level, it may actually be that our faith was nurtured by our parents’ faith. Or that the love we saw modelled as we were growing up became the love that we’ve tried to model ourselves…
Not that our parents always got it right – and not that we do ourselves. But, for good or ill, there’s no doubt that, as parents, we have a tremendous influence on the generation that follows; nor is there any doubt that our parents had a great influence on us. Which I suspect is why the relationship between parents and kids, and in particular fathers and sons, has made it into so many movies over the last few years. Because those relationships shape the future…
And yet the folks at Marvel Studios were by no means the first to recognize that – because the issue of dads, and of the kind of father that all of us not only need to have, but actually can have ourselves, is dealt with by Jesus himself in those verses from Luke.
Now we know almost nothing about the relationship Jesus had with Joseph, Jesus’ earthly father. We know Joseph was a man of faith, willing to raise God’s son as his very own. And later on, we find that Jesus himself is referred to as a tekton, a carpenter or builder (Mark 6:3), meaning that Joseph clearly passed along to Jesus some of those important life skills we talked about earlier. And I don’t know if it means anything in particular, but after Jesus had once gone missing as a tween, it was Mary, rather than Joseph, who demanded an explanation, and let Jesus know, in no uncertain terms, just how worried they’d been. Maybe Joseph was just the strong, silent type…
But it’s not Jesus’ relationship with Joseph that’s addressed in these verses from Luke. It’s actually a relationship with God into which Jesus is inviting us. The passage, of course, begins with the Lord’s Prayer – possibly the most famous, most repeated prayer that’s ever been uttered. But, rather than calling it “The Lord’s Prayer”, it would really be more accurate to call it “the disciples’ prayer”, because it’s really a model prayer that Jesus gave to his friends to follow and to use. It was meant to be a prayer for them. And so, if you and I count ourselves among Jesus’ disciples, it’s a prayer that you and I are invited to call our own as well…
And, of course, it begins with an invitation for us to approach God as Father – in Matthew’s version, “Our Father in heaven”. Now, a lot of us grew up with that. For those who are “lifers” as far as the church is concerned, there’s nothing new or surprising here. But maybe for those who’ve grown up in the world of Marvel superheroes, thinking about God as Father may actually seem rather strange, even off. It may even be unhelpful, conjuring up images of Odin berating Thor, or even conjuring up painful memories of your own…
But this was actually something new with Jesus. In the world of religious thought, this was one of Jesus’ major contributions. You see, in the Old Testament, God was occasionally referred to as father – but always as father to the nation of ancient Israel. And while parenthood – including motherhood – was sometimes used as a metaphor for God’s care, it was always on that corporate level.
But it was Jesus, through his own relationship with the Father, and through his own prayers, witnessed by his disciples, who opened this new window onto what a relationship with God might be. Jesus, you see, didn’t just call God Father, he called him Dad. And in giving us this prayer as a model to follow, Jesus actually gives us a whole new access to God by giving us this whole new way of referring to God – a way that points us to a connection with God that’s meant to be both intimate and individual, just as Jesus’ own connection with God always was.
In his book Christian Theology, Millard Erickson shows us what these first words of Jesus’ prayer are meant to communicate -- that God is not a bureau or a department, a machine or a computer… He can be spoken to, and he in turn speaks.” We might add that God doesn’t employ voice-mail, or force us to “choose from the following five options”. An approachable, accessible Father – that’s the kind of parent that God wants to be to us.
But Jesus’ prayer not only gives us a new way of seeing God, and of speaking to God -- it also reminds us of some of the things that we can expect from God – and are invited to ask from God as well. The first would be the provision of our basic needs – our daily bread. Normally this comes through the ability to work, and from a share in the fruitfulness of the earth. But we also know that there are many who can’t work, or whose ability to work can’t provide enough to meet those basic needs. And that, of course, is why we as the church are involved in things like Cropshare and why we partner with the Friends of Jesus foodbank – because in doing so God allows us to be part of the way in which he answers this prayer for others…
And, then, a second thing we can expect from the God who longs to be our Father is guidance. Matthew’s fuller version of the prayer expresses it with the request, “Lead us not into temptation.” On Tuesday, I mentioned to our Bible Study group the yellow and red signs that still litter the territory between Israel and Syria, warning of the thousands of landmines that are still there after decades of confrontation and war. Those signs, and the wire on which they’re strung, are meant to warn people away from a very real danger, and show them what we might call “paths of safety”. That too is the purpose of the Word that God speaks to us – his word is there to guide us away from sources of danger. And part of the protection he offers to us as a Father are the Bible’s warnings that reveal the safe paths he has created for us, and also the pitfalls and landmines that can also litter our lives.
Perhaps most importantly, this prayer lets us know that one of the things we can expect from our Heavenly Father is forgiveness. Simon Peter once asked Jesus how many times he had to forgive a fellow follower who kept on sinning. Peter wondered if seven times would be enough. Jesus’ response, though, went way beyond Peter’s estimate. It was either that it needed to be seven times seven, or perhaps even seventy times seven – which was really just Jesus’ way of saying, “Don’t try to place limits on something like mercy.” And one of the things that tells us is that if that’s an expectation that God has of us, how much more mercy can you and I expect from the God who invites us to call him Father, if we come to him in repentance?
This part of Luke chapter eleven also includes some other famous words, ones we sang as part of our worship earlier: ask, seek, and knock. Again, those words are meant to point us to God’s approachability…
One of the realities of working here at the church is that people can and do arrive at my office door throughout the week. Now though my door is usually closed, I’ve always tried to have an open-door-policy. And, of course, that’s made easier by the fact that about two-thirds of my door is actually window, meaning that people can see me and I can see them. So, if someone knocks, they’ll almost always be greeted with a “come in!” whether they’re there to ask a question, share a concern, or simply share a coffee. But again, if my door is open to those who come, how much more will the Father’s door be open to us, when Jesus tells us that anyone who knocks will be invited in?
The final part of the passage includes what seems like a couple of bizarre questions: “Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake…? Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion?” To us, it sounds either like someone’ working in an exotic pet shop, or the most bizarre breakfast menu ever. But the question’s rhetorical; the answer is that none of us, in responding to our kids’ hunger would offer a snake or a scorpion in place of what they really need. And that’s true of us even though, as Jesus puts it, we’re evil. We’re sinners. We’re not who or what God made us to be. And yet we still know how to give good things to those around us.
But, again, Jesus is simply using that to pave the way for him to tell us more about the incredible kind of Father God is willing to be. Because our Father in heaven wants to give us good gifts as well. Yet, here, Jesus singles out just one of those gifts in particular. What the Father most wants to give us is the Holy Spirit. And what the Father most wants us to ask for is the Holy Spirit. And the fact is that the more our priorities align with our Father’s priorities, the more we’ll want to ask for the Holy Spirit, because the Holy Spirit is God’s Spirit. The Holy Spirit is not a separate entity, some distinct being in heaven’s bureaucracy. The Holy Spirit is simply God’s self, with us.
As life moves on, and time goes by, one comes to the realization that some of the things you used to value really don’t count for very much, and some of the things that didn’t seem so important in your younger days suddenly become very precious. For some of us, that may include our faith, which we didn’t give much thought to in our younger years, but is now something that we can’t imagine life without…
But, again, as time goes by, one of the things that becomes increasingly precious is the gift of time itself, and especially “time spent with”. Spent with those we love. Spent with those we’ll miss. Spent with those we may next see in eternity. And this is the gift that our Father, the kind of Father we all need, most wants to give to us – time with him… Time with his Spirit inside us. Time with him as our companion through life. Time at his knee. Time before his throne. Time. And more than time. Eternity itself. This is the gift he longs to give. And the gift for which he gave his Son, so that anyone – anyone at all – who believes in Jesus, might not perish, but literally might have all the time in the world.
What kind of Father would do that? The kind of Father we all wish we had. But, more importantly, the kind of Father we can have if we simply ask, seek, and knock. Thanks be to God. Amen.