Our Father

This, then, is how you should pray: “’Our Father…’”

                        Matthew 6.9 

The Spirit of Adoption

In Romans 8.15, Paul writes: “For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption. And by him we cry, 'Abba, Father.'" What a startling comparison—slavery to fear and adoption by God—especially for the Romans, who understood slavery and adoption all too well. Reading this, they added an implicit layer that we may miss: class.

In ancient Rome, slaves of even the most beneficent masters lived in fear. They never were totally insulated from being wrongly accused by someone outside their household, traded off as part of a package deal, or cast into the streets for a minor infraction. Their status as slaves left them next to no legal recourse to correct their circumstances. Adoption was reasonably common, yet it was confined to class because it involved inheritance. It took tremendous courage for a master to adopt a slave because doing so vested his new son or daughter with privileges reserved to citizens of the state. When the Romans read Paul’s words, they were stunned and comforted by their meaning. The Spirit of adoption sealed them from danger and confirmed their rights to approach God in an informal, familiar, unafraid manner. Paul said, “Call Him ‘Abba’”—an Aramaic honorific roughly equivalent to “Dad.” Bottom line: by adopting us, God makes us all equal.

Sap

Later in his letter, Paul explained how God’s adoption process works: “You, though a wild olive shoot, have been grafted in among the others and now share in the nourishing sap of the olive root.” (Romans 11.17) This goes back to one of his great recurrent themes: inclusion. Metaphorically, Paul describes Israel as an olive tree and tells Roman/Gentile believers that they’ve been given the same access to God’s Spirit (the sap) as the Jews. It flows out of Him into us. It nourishes us, increasing our capability to yield fruit and securing our place among His people. It goes beyond being accepted: it alters our identity—our spiritual DNA, if you will. No longer slaves to fear and outcasts, we are truly one of God’s own.

How We Should Pray

In this first post in a series on the Lord’s Prayer, I hope to challenge us to rethink it line by line. Too often, particularly in worship services, we say it ritualistically, half-mumbling through it with the rest of the crowd. But Jesus carefully chose every word, intending it more as a prayer template than a liturgical recitation. “This is how you should pray…”

Right from the start, there are a number of things to know and feel about “Our Father.” He has made us His own, freeing us from the bondage of fear. He has given us His name, entitling us to all He possesses. We come to Him not as a stern patriarch, but as a paternal, caring presence. We are all equal, none better or more favored than the other. Though once considered outsiders, He has grafted us into His family. His same Spirit flows through each of us, nurturing us and empowering our ability to produce. We share His DNA and a fundamental genetic resemblance to one another. Everything about us originates in Him, which is why we begin with Him when we pray.

Each of us is an olive branch, grafted into the same tree, flowing with Our Father's Spirit.

(Tomorrow: In Heaven)

Postscript: Flaming Queens

It was going to happen sooner or later and, frankly, I’m surprised three months passed before it did. Yesterday, Straight-Friendly was hit for the first time (that I know of, anyway) with a reader incapable of restraining himself from homophobic comments. Thankfully, he had the good grace to add his thoughts to a relatively older post, giving me hope that very few if any of you caught it. (Don’t bother looking; it’s already been deleted.)

What he wrote merits no attention. It was neither useful nor knowledgeable. In the spirit that Straight-Friendly encourages, though, I tried to answer his first comment candidly, carefully, and compassionately. Near the end, I added this:

Straight-Friendly is intended as a safe place where everyone can gather to share God's Word. It is not available for you or anyone else to flame or attempt to arouse controversy with condemning comments such as this. I have chosen not to screen comments prior to their publication in good faith that those who want to be confrontational will recognize the spirit and good intentions that govern here and will choose to take their anger and hatred somewhere else. However, for the sake of our readers, I am fully prepared to change this policy immediately should you or anyone like you abuse this privilege again.

His was response was most ungracious, more nonsensical than the first, and no doubt grievous to God’s Spirit. Its only effect is increasing my responsibility to protect us from future irresponsibility of this sort. I loathe having to do this, but all comments from here forward will be screened prior to publication. For an overwhelming majority of them, this will be no more than an inconvenient formality and, by no means, will any of them be edited, etc.

My greatest hope is that everyone continues to comment. I view this attack as one aimed at the gentle community that gathers here more than anything. I’ll just never understand what people like this gentleman believe they gain by spraying bile across gay-tolerant Christian sites. Are they so weak and disengaged from the world that they actually believe they achieve anything good by flaming queens?