God as Abba –
Papa God
Of
all the titles I’ve worn in my years of living, I love most what my
grandchildren call me … Papa Michael.
Papa! And it is used with love, affection and
respect.
We
in America don’t use the term Abba in normal conversations. You’ll find it in Israel, Palestine and those
regions of the world however. It is a
term of endearment, as is Papa.
And
that is the God I present to you today.
Abba God. Papa God.
My
mentor, though now dead – Brennan Manning, says that ‘Abba means in literal
English: daddy, my own dear father.’
Child
psychologists in America tell us that the average American baby begins to speak
between the ages of 14-18 months, and the first word normally spoken is da –
da, da, daddy. A small Jewish child
speaking Aramaic in first-century Palestine, at that same age, would begin to
say ab – ab, ab, Abba.
(Taken from The Furious Longing of God-Brennan Manning)
They
are terms of endearment, terms of intimacy.
When
Christ was teaching his disciples to pray, the first thing He taught them was
to call God ‘our Father, who art in heaven.’
Christ
knew intimacy with God and He knew the significance of that intimacy and how
much God himself wanted that kind of intimacy with His children.
He
wanted to be known as Papa. Abba.
As
our children and grandchildren will crawl upon our laps, we could care less if
they stay still or if they play with a toy, look around the room, or reach for the
computer, as Adia (granddaughter) used to do when I held her on my lap. What mattered most is that this was a sacred
moment. Father and child, Papa and
grandchild.
God
so wants closeness, communion, a relationship with us, and His lap is big
enough for us, our toys, our interests, and our fidgeting ways.
I’ve
fallen asleep more times in prayer than I’ve stayed awake and prayed. God hasn’t cut me off. He still invites me back to that intimate
moment.
My
mind wanders often when I’m supposed to be praying. And God’s love keeps on reaching out to
me.
I’ll
never get it right, this intimacy thing, with God. And I keep coming back to this … God knows me
as I am and not as I should be. And He loves me anyway.
I’m
learning to struggle less with getting it ‘right’ and settling more into a
comfortable relationship with the God who loves me with a furious love, a
raging love that is constant, and never lets up.
You
know that wind storm we had recently? It
finally let up, blew itself out and sunny days returned.
Had
that been God’s love, it would still be blowing, raging, because He loves us
that much. He never gives up.
What
a metaphor.
Ah
…
What
a love!
Hope Encouragement Inspiration
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