One of the great mysteries of Christianity is that God wants to have a relationship with His creation. When we consider the contrasting natures of man and God the mystery deepens. By very definition God is omnipotent. Man, on the other hand, is weak. By very definition God is omniscient. Man, on the other hand is limited in knowledge. By very definition God is omnipresent. Man, on the other hand, is but a speck in the universe. This contrast could be extended to God’s moral characteristics as well. God is holy.  Man is sinful. God is sacrificial. Man is self-seeking. On and on the list could go. The point then is that there is an “otherness” to God that mankind will never understand this side of eternity. Paul says in Roman 11:33, “O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!”

In considering the “otherness” of God, the question arises as to how we should address Him. In what is commonly called the “Lord’s Prayer” (Matthew 6:9ff) Jesus instructs his disciples to pray by addressing God as “Our Father who art in heaven.” The term Jesus uses here is the common Greek term for “father” (Pater) and is found over 370 times in various contexts in the New Testament. But although it is a common term, it is nonetheless one of respect. Jewish children were taught from a very young age to honor their father and their mother (Ex 20:12). Paul mirrors the same in Ephesians 6:1-2. Thus to address God in any way that diminishes His superiority is, in reality, nothing short of blasphemy.

Over the past 30 years the evangelical world has attempted to bridge the “otherness” of God and make Him more “reachable.” The movement is not wholly without merit. Before the Protestant Reformation of the 16^th century, Catholicism had erected so many barriers between man and God that the common worshiper was ignorant of the true nature of their Heavenly Father.  A distinction between “clergy and laity” further widened this gap as “priests” usurped the authority of Christ as only mediator (1 Tim 2:5). Combined with a Latin liturgy (worship conducted in Latin could not be understood by the common people) and the inherent political nature of the Catholic Church, God became unreachable except through a complicated and mystical labyrinth of sacraments and formulas. While it is unfair to allege a wholesale conspiracy by the ruling clerical powers of the day, the result was nonetheless a growing disparity between “God” and “man.” Scripture never authorized such distance. God has always wanted an intimate relationship with His people.

When Martin Luther sparked the “Protestant Reformation” by boldly nailing his 95 Thesis to the church door in Wittenberg, German (Oct 31, 1517), little could he have imagined the inferno that would eventually blaze out of control. The winds of change Luther stirred eventually became a tempest storm of religious confusion and denominationalism.  Eventually along with this confusion came a wholesale change in perception of man’s place before God.  As the wall of “God’s otherness,” overbuilt by Catholicism, was gradually disassembled a casual attitude about God took its place. The historic bricks of solid theology that once kept man a respectful distance from God were now reclaimed in order to build a level floor on which God and man stood side by side. But man must ever remember God has an eternal “otherness.” God’s ways are not our ways and neither are His thoughts our thoughts (Is 55:8-9).

As the whirlwind of the Reformation began to finally calm, yet another storm began to brew in the heavens of popular religious thought. From the halls higher learning marched the “high priests” of philosophical thought preaching that the Bible should not be viewed as God’s Word but rather the words of uninspired men with their own agendas.

The trend, which ironically spring out of Luther’s homeland of Germany, was called “Higher Criticism.” While nuanced and varied, Higher Criticism sought to distance itself from the traditional view that scripture was inspired, rather suggesting there were errors in the text that must be assayed. Without going into great depth the bottom line is that by the end of the 19^th century the theological environment was ripe for a more relaxed and liberal approach not only to the authority of scripture but to the “otherness” of God as well. Such thinking no doubt bolstered the popularity of the modern day evangelical movement and the wholesale “dumbing down of theology” which has affected everything from the translation issue to stylistic approaches in worship. Main line Christianity has eased gently into the fog as the seriousness of God has been painted over with a lighter shade of pale. Denominationalism, though certainly not God’s plan, but nonetheless once vibrant and even militant in its beliefs, now writhes in the death throes of seeker sensitive theology as it, like water, takes the path of least resistance.

It was in this environment that the notion of God as “daddy” was born. As we shall see, while the impetus of such an interpretation ostensibly comes from scripture, the Greek term cited to bolster the claim is not as casual as one might first imagine. The term that has given rise to the notion that God is our “daddy” is the New Testament Greek word “Abba.” Practically anyone who has attended worship for any period of time has at some point heard this term. Furthermore, one may have even heard it explained that the term “Abba” was the term Aramaic children used as the equivalent for “daddy” or even “pop.” But is this true?

Before looking at the three instances where “Abba” is used in scripture, some preliminary remarks are in order. First, the idea that God is our “daddy” seems to have its indirect origin in the writings of the German Lutheran New Testament scholar Joachim Jeremias. In his New Testament Theology (1971) Jeremias explained that Abba was “the chatter of a small child. . . . a children’s word, used in everyday talk.” He went on to suggest that in Jesus’ day the term might have even been thought of as “disrespectful, indeed unthinkable” given God was never to be addressed in such a casual fashion (p. 67).

In all fairness, while Jeremias did not use the word “daddy” or “papa” in relation to Abba, the implication was strong and others came along to make that connection. From the outset, however, his reasoning was challenged. Notable scholars such as James Barr disagreed with Jeremias on the issue suggesting that while the term “Abba” was distinct from more formal and ceremonious language. . . . it was not a childish expression comparable with ‘Daddy’ (Journal of Theological Studies, vol. 39, 1988). Professor Geza Vermes, in his book, Jesus and the World of Judaism (p 43), says there is no linguistic support for such a casual translation of the term (Abba) but it is best understood as “the father” or “my [own] father.” 616). It is the possessive aspect of the term (ie: my Father) that seems to be the key to understanding its triad use in scripture.

So let us now turn to the scriptures to discover in what context “Abba” is used. As noted there are three instances in the New Testament where the term “Abba, Father” occurs. The first is found in Mark 14:36 where Jesus uses it to address His own Father, and the other two are found in Romans 8:15 and Galatians 4:6 where Paul tells the Christian about their relationship to God.  Naturally a full exegesis of each of these passages is not possible here. However, studying the context of these passages will be helpful.

Mark 14:36 records Jesus’ prayer in the garden of Gethsemane. In that hour of trial, knowing the pain of the cross and the weight of man’s sins, Jesus cries to His Father. But notice that while the scene is based on the Son’s intimacy with the Father, there is no hint of casualness in Christ’s prayer. In John 17:5 Jesus speaks of this intimacy as he implores God to glorify him with the glory he had with the Father at the beginning.  Before Jesus stepped into time he had been one with the Father in eternity. Hence, if “Abba” is a term that denoted intimacy and possessiveness (ie: MY father), then Jesus appropriately uses such in speaking to God on this occasion. Clearly Jesus’ cry is not that of a babbling child. Rather it is a serious petition of respect. Hebrews 5:7-89 says that Jesus offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death, and was heard in that he feared. The passage goes on to explain that through this ordeal Jesus learned obedience and was perfected becoming the author of eternal salvation to those who obey him. Clearly in this passage “Abba Father” is one of intimacy and great deference.

Paul’s use of the term in Romans 8 is understood more fully in light of the above. Paul says, “For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father” (8:14-15).

The issue in this passage is “sonship.” Through the death of Jesus, believers are “sons of God” (cf. 1 Jn 3:1). The context of Romans 8 is intimacy. Through Jesus we are no longer estranged due to sin. Paul describes this new relationship via Christ in legal terms. He says that we are adopted. In other words those who once were not God’s children, have now through the formal process of the cross, become children with full rights and privileges to the Father’s table.

The point then is clear. There is nothing casual about Paul’s use of the term “abba Father.” Paul is simply suggesting that when we are adopted then, and only then, can we call God “our Father.”

Finally, Paul again uses the term “Abba Father” in Galatians 4:6. Once again the context is the change of legal status one sustains with God through His Son. Paul reminds the Galatians that the Father had always had a plan when he says, “But when the fullness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, To redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons” (4:4-5). He then goes on and says that because of this adoption, and subsequently the indwelling spirit of Christ within, the believer can address God as “their Father.” Notice the possessive nature of this beautiful verse. God comes to possess us through adoption (see verse 9) and we come to possess Him through Christ. There is nothing casual about this process. There is nothing to suggest that because we can cry “Abba Father” that God has somehow become our “buddy, papa, daddy.” Adoption may bring intimacy but it does not erase the “otherness” of God.

In the end analysis, the term “Abba Father” does not give the believer license to treat God as their “cosmic papa.” God is to be reverend. The Psalmist says, “He sent redemption unto his people: he hath commanded his covenant forever: holy and reverend is his name (111:9).” God is “our” Father and as such we have intimacy with Him. But this is an “intimacy of otherness.” We are not on God’s level and we must never attempt to put God on our level.  We should refrain from any view that turns the “Father of lights” into a child’s friendly nightlight!

Article by: John M. Criswell