III. Our Father

Hallowed be Thy Name. When Moses encountered God in the burning bush and was sent to the children of Israel to tell them that God had heard their cries, he was left with something of a problem: Who would believe him and why? Thus, hoping for some credibility, Moses asked God, “And who shall I say sent me? What is your name?” God then gives Moses an answer, but a rather enigmatic one: “I AM WHO I AM. Tell them, I AM has sent me to you.”

Names, both human and divine, have significance and are intimately related to identity. It is believed by some that knowing another’s name gives the knower a certain power over the one named. In some cultures, people will not reveal their ‘real’ names for this very reason, or because the ‘real’ name must be kept secret, or known only by a few, because it is revelatory of the individual’s very essence, which is considered sacred. In some cultures the real name is known only to the individual and God. “…and I will give a white stone, and on the white stone is written a new name that no one knows except the one who receives it (Rev. 2:17).”

That God has chosen to reveal God’s name to humankind is awesome. Someone once wrote that God’s name is not ‘God’. And that is true. The word ‘God’ is merely a placeholder for the name of God, which from the earliest of times has been regarded as holy and sacred—so much so, that the name of God revealed to Moses was not to be spoken. In both the Judeo-Christian tradition and the Islamic tradition, there are a multitude of names of God. God has bestowed upon us a great honor in revealing the holy name, therefore we pray that this name be held holy—always and everywhere respected, honored, and reverenced. 

II. Our Father

Who art in heaven. This phrase reminds us that we are addressing no earthly father, no ordinary person, but God. Where is, or what is, ‘heaven’? St. Catherine of Siena wrote that “All the way to heaven is heaven.” For many of us, we tend to conceive of heaven as being somewhere up above, or somewhere ‘out there’, beyond the horizons of our universe. So often, when we speak of matters of the spiritual life, we speak in terms of direction: up, down, vertical, horizontal, near, far, and so on. But we really have no idea what, or where, heaven is. Another common conception is that heaven is very similar to earth—only it’s the perfect earth where all pain and suffering, sorrow and fear, are no more. Heaven is imagined as the perfect earth where all will be happy forever and no one will want for anything. We rarely think of heaven as the place where, first and foremost, God dwells.

The often quoted “God is a circle whose center is everywhere and circumference is nowhere”  can help us understand that God and God’s presence are not restricted to or bounded by any one location. This is why we speak of God as omnipresent. God, at the center of everything, dwells in the depths of every person and all that exists. Thus, heaven is very near to us--indeed, the kingdom of heaven is within us and God is nearer to us than we are to ourselves.

I. Our Father

“Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” Lk. 11:1

“But when you pray,…pray to your Father…Pray then like this: Our Father…” Mt. 6: 6,9

Many of us pray the “Our Father” daily and many of us pray it not only daily, but several times a day. Because of this, we can find ourselves reciting this prayer without ever giving it much thought. I believe it was St. Teresa of Avila who remarked that the Our Father, prayed mindfully, is the most perfect prayer. Unfortunately, we miss the fullness and the richness of this prayer when we recite it hastily—whether in a liturgical context or a personal one. So I would like to take some time in this blog, to linger with this prayer.

Our Father. Those two words ought to stop us in our tracks. What does it mean to address the Creator of all that is, as Father? And not just as ‘my Father’, but as ‘our Father? It is to acknowledge that we are all sons or daughters of the one God. Regardless of our religious affiliation, or lack thereof, we are all beloved children of God, brothers and sisters, members of one family. It is to acknowledge that we are in a relationship with God and one another. ‘Father’, of course, is a metaphor. We do not know how to think or speak in any other way. While we do not know whether the Godhead has gender, we do know that the Godhead is a ‘person’—and not just a person, but a community of persons—even though we do not fully understand what a ‘person’ is, either. That we do not understand all this, that we are unable to fully grasp what we are saying, can bring us to a stance of awe.

To pray ‘Our Father’ is to acknowledge that we are not merely in relationship, but that we are in a relationship of radical dependency. While we do not like to think of ourselves as dependent, when it comes to our very existence, we are dependent creatures. We are dependent upon God for our lives, gifts, abilities, and so forth. We really cannot do anything in and of ourselves. Those things we can do for ourselves are a result of God’s gift and grace. Of ourselves, we cannot so much as add one moment to our lifespan. We are also dependent upon our brothers and sisters and upon our earth and its resources: sun, moon, stars, wind, rain, soil, trees, clouds, birds, fish, bees, cattle, fruits, grains—all contribute to our existence and well-being.

To pray ‘Our Father’ is to learn and to know our true identity. Our identity as beloved sons and daughters of God is the one and only identity that cannot be taken from us—and the one identity that matters. 

Happy New Year

I don’t believe in making New Year’s resolutions, so please don’t ask me about them. I believe that we are all called to personal conversion, every day, all year through. That is probably why St. Benedict writes in his Rule that “the life of a monk ought to be a continuous Lent”. The trap of the New Year’s resolution is that once it’s broken, we are likely to think we are off the hook. Why bother, now that it’s busted? The fact of the matter is that we are meant to fail in such endeavors. That’s our nature as human beings. We’re not perfect and we’ll never be perfect. But we need to keep getting up after we’ve fallen down and not give up. The best way, I think, is to get up every day and start again, over and over, as though each day is the beginning of a new year. No matter who we are, no matter how far along the spiritual path we may have come, we must be content to be mere beginners.

Personal conversion is not a kind of do-it-yourself kit, nor is the spiritual journey a linear path from point A to point B. It’s a road with ups and downs, twists and turns, detours and meanderings. Sometimes, it’s not even a road—and maps are useless. The work of personal conversion is not so much our work, as it is God’s work—God’s work in us through grace. And it is somewhere along the way on the paths we tread that God’s grace is there to meet us in our ups and downs, twists and turns, detours and meanderings. This can’t happen, though, if we sit down and decide not to travel any further. Even if we’ve fallen down a deep ravine, we need not despair, as God’s grace will find us there. We need only to be willing to get back up and continue on the journey.

Blessed journeying to you and a grace-filled New Year!