Toward Fatherhood

As the stage crew finished setting up, several thousand congregants pressed forward, grinning and jostling, bouncing and humming with anticipation. Every mind had a favorite song playing on repeat, hoping it might be first on the set list. Suddenly the lights went down, and the first notes drifted out, soft and fragrant as incense. Ten thousand faces turned skyward, and as many hands. Thousands of human voices rose in unison, good, bad, ugly and unashamed, joining in a sincere expression of hope and love and longing. They were in the presence of royalty, and they sang to him. Sang with him. They sang as one body.

Purple rain, purple rain…” Prince moaned.

The clouds began to weep, and my eyes misted. “Heart-warming” was too cliche; this was…awe-inspiring. Life-affirming. It was just so deeply and distinctly and richly…human! All these people, these souls, agreeing together in song, voices floating heavenward in the darkness. It was genuinely powerful and moving.

This thing we call “the presence of the Lord” during our modern worship services - the deep, emotional stirring we experience “where two or more are gathered together” - is not a uniquely Christian experience. You can find it at rock concerts, around campfires, at pep rallies and football games. Wherever people gather in song for a single purpose outside of ourselves, we generate a spiritual energy, or synergy, or bouyancy. It’s a human experience, not particularly a Christian one. What sets us apart of children of God is why we do this.

It’s to whom our energy is devoted that makes us a peculiar people.

In fact, it’s distinctly unfair to say that the Lord has arrived, or that Jesus is suddenly among us, or that the Spirit has finally fallen down on us during the worship service; Jesus has already promised to be with us always - even to the end of the world! The father is so attentive, he notices if a stupid goose is injured; Jesus is closer than a brother; the Spirit is our constant comforter and teacher…and we dare suggest that we’ve been here waiting for HIM to finally show up?

No, I dare say it is WE who have finally shown up.

We, who were at the store, at work, on Facebook, getting the kids ready.

We, who were doing homework, fighting fires, spatting with spouses

We, who were scattered and stretched, distraught, distracted.

We, who suddenly find ourselves in a sanctuary, a safe place, cut off from the chaos,

Unplugged, quieted, recentered…and suddenly…we can see Jesus again.

Oh, there he is! We cry, He’s here! He’s here!!

Of course I’m here, He replies easily with a smile, Where have you been?

“So…” said my sweet and very pregnant wife upon hearing all this, “Why does that matter?”

A good question. Knowledge is just fancy books on a shelf, after all; truth is the soil from which our soul food grows. Truth is what we need for life.

Truth is, this mindset matters very much, because it’s part of a larger set of ideas about our father’s heart, and his ideas about relationship with us. If God is a guy who comes and goes, descends when he feels like it, speaks only after we’ve groveled sufficiently…well that makes him kind of a mean guy, doesn’t it. A harsh master. A terrible boss. An unfit father. That way of thinking puts all the burden on us, the kids, to make the relationship work.

It makes us the loving ones, and him the wanderer. Or the genie. Or the magic idol who comes to life at the sounds of the secret incantations.

But he is none of those things. He is Papa, and he loves you and me more than life itself.

What does that mean to you? If it doesn’t fit your theology, scrap your theology. Truth is: he has promised to love you and never leave.