“Because you are his children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” (Gal. 4:6). Note here the Spirit does not cry out using “esoteric” or magical names for God, nor does the Spirit refer to one of God’s many titles based on the divine attributes, but instead uses a term of intimacy and profound trust. After all, the word “abba” (אַבָּא) is not so much a name for God as it is a claim about who you are — it is a confession that you belong to the Lord as his beloved child…
It has been noted that throughout his ministry Yeshua referred to the LORD simply as his “Father” though he used the intensive address “Abba, Father” (Ἀββᾶ, ὁ πατήρ) just before his arrest and crucifixion, that is, during his intercession at Gethsamane (גַּת שְׁמָנִים), near the olive oil press on the Mount of Olives where the anointing oil for the Temple (שֶׁמֶן הַמִּשְׁחָה) was made, and therefore he called upon “Abba, Father” while in deep suffering and tribulation of heart (Mark 14:36). “Take this cup away from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will…” The mixed dialect of Hebrew and Greek here (i.e., Ἀββᾶ, ὁ πατήρ) may indicate identification with both the Jewish people and the Gentiles who would be united in his passion, as it says, shalom shalom la’rachok vela’karov: “Peace, peace, to him who is far off and to him who is near,” says the LORD; “and I will heal him” (Isa. 57:19, Eph. 2:15). Knowing God as your “father” is a matter of the heart, an inner cry or groan coming from the miracle of spiritual rebirth. “The Spirit himself bears witness to our spirit that we are God’s children” (Rom. 8:16).
It is written in our Scriptures: “As a man thinks in his heart, so is he.” We often see what we want to see more than what is really there. That’s called wishful thinking. We overlook much, and we often ignore what might challenge our own preferred interpretations. For example, we may think that we are trusting God for our lives, but we worry, we attempt to control others, we get angry, and so on. We have a blind spot regarding the question whether we really trust God, perhaps because seriously investigating what we really believe seems too threatening (John 16:31-32). After all, what if we don’t really know what to believe? What if we struggle to believe? What if we are confused? What does that say about who we are? So we ignore the real problem (namely, our lack of truth and our little faith in God) and continue to think we are something we are not. We fool ourselves and trade a sense of “satisfaction” at the expense of truth. This is a common failing of human nature. During the Nazi years, many ordinary Germans refused to investigate reports of atrocities at the death camps because it was too costly to discover the truth (the same might be said about any patriotic citizens who rationalize the actions of their government regardless of the moral issues involved). By willfully hiding from the facts, we pretend we are not responsible, and therefore we justify passivity in the face of injustice and evil.
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Though it is true that God will never leave nor forsake us, he nevertheless allows trouble in our lives so that we will learn to call upon him and know his heart… For how else will we understand the truth of our great need for him, and how else his great provision? “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” describes the poignant awareness of our inner poverty, our bankruptcy of heart, the destitution of our condition (Matt. 5:3). We cry inwardly, “Forsake me not, O LORD: O my God, be not far from me” (Psalm 38:21) because we realize our need for deliverance from ourselves; we understand that we cannot take a step in his way apart from his upholding. “Hold thou me up, and I shall be safe: and I will have respect unto thy statutes continually” (Psalm 119:117). “Do not forsake me, O LORD, is the mantra in our darkness, the antiphon of God’s promised Presence; it is the cry of the heart that knows that only God can get us through the next moment and its temptation to despair. “Do not forsake me, O LORD, lest I be swallowed up by my pain, my fear, my sadness, my anguish of heart; do not forsake me, for I am nothing but the anguish of the moment, the sorrow of loneliness, the fear of my own heart as I tremble before you in my desperation…
We all struggle with sin in our lives, and each of us needs deliverance from various attachments and fears that keep us from the deeper life… The problem is within ourselves, that is, the contradiction of heart we experience in our double-mindedness, our ambivalence, and our unbelief (Jer. 17:9). We may recite the Shema every day and say that we love God with all our being, but in the ordinary moments of daily life we are drawn to other concerns, alien affections, other “gods.” Indeed, whatever matters most to us, whatever consumes our attention, time, resources, and our interest, is something we “worship,” that is, something we esteem as worthy and valuable…
Our faith is expressed every day by what we regard as most important. What do you treasure in life? What is your “pearl of great price”? Some people will say that loving God is their greatest blessing, though their choices indicate that they are focused on various temporal and worldly concerns. The life of faith requires the whole heart and singleness of vision, as King David said, “One thing I ask of the Lord; that is what I will seek.” David asked for one thing – not many things. He did not come with a litany of requests. He was not double minded. As Kierkegaard said, “purity of the heart is to will one thing.” Despite his troubles and pains, David sought the best he could find.
Tonight at sundown marks