Chapter 5 · 17 min read
He Spoke to Them of the Father
“They did not understand that he had been speaking to them about the Father.” John 8:27 One of the most illuminating names of God is the one especially revealed by our Lord Jesus Christ, the name of Father. I say especially revealed by Christ, because, while God had been called throughout the ages by many other names expressing other aspects of His character, Christ alone has revealed Him to us under the all-inclusive name of Father—a name that contains within itself all other names of wisdom and power, and above all of love and goodness, a name that provides a complete supply for all our needs. Christ, who was the only begotten Son in the Father’s presence, was the only one who could reveal this name, for He alone knew the Father.
“As the Father knows me and I know the Father.” (John 10:15) “No one has seen the Father except he who is from God; he has seen the Father.” (John 6:46) In the Old Testament, God was not revealed as Father so much as a great warrior fighting for His people, or as a mighty king ruling over them and caring for them. The name of Father is only given to Him a very few times there, six or seven times at most; while in the New Testament it is used about two or three hundred times. Christ, who knew Him, was the only one who could reveal Him. “No one knows who the Father is except the Son, and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.” (Luke 10:22) The essential question, then, that confronts each one of us is whether we personally understand that Christ speaks to us of the Father. We know He uses the word Father continually, but do we truly understand what that word means? Have we even the slightest understanding of what the Father is? All the discomfort and unrest in the spiritual lives of so many of God’s children comes, I am convinced, from this very issue—that they do not understand that God is truly and personally their Father. They think of Him as a strict Judge, or a harsh Taskmaster, or at best as a distant and unapproachable authority seated far away, issuing demanding laws to a frightened and trembling world; and in their fear that they may fail to meet His requirements, they hardly know which way to turn. But of a God who is a Father, gentle, loving, and full of compassion, a God who, like a father, stands on their side against the entire universe, they have no real understanding.
I am not afraid to say that unrest and inner discomfort are impossible for those who come to know that God is truly their Father.
But before I go further, I must make it clear that I am speaking of a Father such as our highest instincts tell us a good father ought to be. Sometimes earthly fathers are unkind, harsh, selfish, or even cruel, or they may simply be indifferent and neglectful; but none of these can in any true sense be called good fathers. But God, who is good, must be a good Father, or not a Father at all.
We have all known good fathers in this world, or at least can imagine them. I knew one, and he filled my childhood with light through his beautiful fatherhood. I can vividly remember the confidence and joy with which I lived each day, completely secure in the knowledge that I had a father. And I am certain that I have come to understand something of the perfect fatherhood of God through my experience with that earthly father.
But God is not only a Father; He is also described in ways that reflect both fatherly and motherly qualities, and we have all known mothers whose love and tenderness are without limit. It is certain that the God who created them both, and who in Himself embodies the fullness of parental love, could never have created earthly fathers and mothers who are more tender or more loving than He is. Therefore, if we want to understand what sort of Father He is, we must gather together the best qualities of all the fathers and mothers we have ever known or can imagine, and recognise that even this is only a faint reflection of God our Father in heaven.
When our Lord was teaching His disciples how to pray, the name by which He instructed them to address God was, “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.” (Matthew 6:9) This clearly shows that we are to think of Him in this way. Millions upon millions of times throughout the centuries, this name has been spoken by the children of God everywhere; and yet how deeply has it been understood? If all who used this name truly understood its meaning, it would have been impossible for the misrepresentations of His character and the doubts about His love and care, which have troubled the hearts of His children throughout history, to take hold. Tyranny, unkindness, and neglect might perhaps be attributed to a God whose name was only king, judge, or lawgiver; but of a God who is first and foremost a Father, and necessarily, since He is God, a good Father, such ideas cannot rightly be held. Moreover, since He is an “everlasting Father,” He must, by His very nature, always act as a good Father should, under all circumstances, and never otherwise. It is unthinkable that a good father would forget, neglect, or act unjustly toward his children. A wicked or careless father might, but a good father never would. And in calling our God by the blessed name of Father, we must recognise that, if He is a Father at all, He must be the very best of fathers, and His fatherhood must represent the highest ideal of fatherhood we can conceive.
It is a fatherhood that includes the highest ideals of both father and mother combined, encompassing all the love, tenderness, compassion, longing, and self-sacrifice that we rightly associate with parenthood, even though we do not always see these perfectly expressed in earthly parents.
But you may ask about the other names of God—do they not suggest more fearful ideas? They only seem to do so because this blessed name of Father is not understood as underlying them all.
This name must be the foundation of every other name by which He is known. Has He been called a Judge? Yes, but He is a Father-Judge, judging as a loving father would. Is He a King?
Yes, but He is a King who is also the Father of His people, ruling them with a father’s tenderness. Is He a Lawgiver? Yes, but He is a Lawgiver who gives laws as a father would, mindful of the weakness and ignorance of his children. “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.” (Psalm 103:13–14) We must never, never think of God in any other way than as “our Father.” All other attributes we associate with Him must be grounded in and shaped by this truth of “our Father.” What a good father could not do, God, who is our Father, cannot do either; and what a good father ought to do, God, who is our Father, will certainly do.
In our Lord’s final prayer in John 17, He says that He has made known to us the name of the Father so that we may discover the wonderful truth that the Father loves us as He loved His Son.
Now, which of us truly believes this? We may have read this chapter many times, perhaps more than almost any other in the Bible, and yet do we actually believe that it is literally true that God loves us as much as He loved Christ? If we truly believed this, could we ever again have an anxious or rebellious thought? Would we not be completely and entirely confident in every circumstance that the divine Father, who loves us as much as He loved His only begotten Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, would care for us in the best possible way, and would therefore clearly instruct us not to be anxious or troubled about anything, because He knows His Father and knows that it is completely safe to trust Him entirely?
It is very striking that He so often said, “Your Father in heaven,” not only mine, but yours as well. “Your Father in heaven” cares for the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, and therefore will certainly care for you, who are of far greater value than many birds. How foolish it is, then, for us to be anxious and troubled about things, when Christ has told us that our heavenly Father knows that we need all these things! For being a good Father, He must, by His very nature, provide for us when He knows our needs.
What is the matter with us that we do not understand this?
Again, our Lord compares earthly fathers with our heavenly Father, not to show how much less good and loving our heavenly Father is, but how much more. “Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? ...
how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!”
(Matthew 7:9–11) Can we imagine a good earthly father giving a stone or a serpent to a hungry child instead of bread or fish? Our hearts would recoil at such a thought. Yet many of God’s children seem to believe that their heavenly Father acts in such ways toward them, giving them stones when they ask for bread, or hardship when they ask for blessing. And some of these very people may belong to organisations that exist to protect children from cruelty—yet they have not considered the seriousness of accusing their heavenly Father of the very things they would condemn in earthly fathers.
But our heavenly Father is not only willing to give us good things—He is far more than willing.
Our Lord says, “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” (Luke 12:32) There is no reluctance in His giving; it is His good pleasure to give. He delights in doing so. He desires to give you the kingdom far more than you desire to receive it.
Those of us who are parents understand how eager we are to give good things to our children, often more eager than they are to receive them; and this helps us understand how it is God’s good pleasure to give us the kingdom. Why then do we approach Him with fear and hesitation, and why do we trouble ourselves with anxiety as though He might fail to provide what we need?
There can only be one answer: we do not truly know the Father.
We are described as being part of the “household of God.” Scripture teaches that if anyone does not provide for his own household, he has “denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” (1 Timothy 5:8) Since we belong to the household of God, this principle applies to Him; and if He were to fail to provide for us, His own words would stand against Him. I say this with reverence, but also with clarity, because so few seem to have grasped it.
In my own experience, there came a defining moment when I first understood this truth about the responsibility of my Father in heaven. It was as though, in a single instant, the burden of life was lifted from my shoulders and placed upon His, and all my fears, anxieties, and uncertainties were surrendered into the depth of His loving care. I realised that the natural human instinct which expects parents to care for their children is not merely cultural, but divinely implanted. It is meant to teach us that the Creator, who has made human parents responsible for their children, is Himself equally responsible for His children. I could have rejoiced greatly. From that moment, my burdens were turned into rest. For when this understanding comes to a person, that person must, by necessity, enter into rest.
With such a God, who is at the same time a Father, there is no place for anything but rest. And whenever, since that joyful discovery, temptations to doubt, anxiety, or fear have arisen, I have refused to listen to them in light of what I have learned, because I recognise that to do so would be to question the reliability of my Father in heaven.
We may have been used to thinking that our doubts and fears come from our own unworthiness and are a sign of humility. We may even have taken them as evidence of special piety and thought they were in some way pleasing to God. But if children, in their relationship with their earthly parents, allowed doubts about their parents’ love and feared that their care might fail, would those doubts and fears show true love and respect? Would they be pleasing to their parents?
If God is our Father, the only thing we can do with doubts, fears, and anxious thoughts is to cast them behind us completely and refuse to entertain them again. We can do this. We can give up our doubts just as we would urge someone to give up a harmful habit. If we truly see that our doubts are a sin against God and question His trustworthiness, we will be eager to abandon them.
We may have held on to our doubts before because we thought they were part of our faith and a fitting attitude for someone who feels unworthy. But if we now see that God truly is our Father, we will reject every doubt with horror, recognising it as a slander against His love and care.
What more could any soul want than to have a God whose name is “our Father,” and whose character matches that name? As Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us” (John 14:8). And indeed, it is enough—far beyond what words can express.
A friend of mine once went to visit a poor woman living in one of the poorest parts of Philadelphia, whose situation had been reported as one of great need. She found things even worse than expected. The woman was old, crippled with rheumatism, and lived alone in a small, poor room, receiving only occasional help from a kind neighbour. Yet she was cheerful and full of gratitude.
My friend was amazed that such joy could exist under such circumstances and asked, “Do you never feel afraid when you think about what might happen to you, living here alone and in such a condition?”
The woman looked at her with surprise and said, “Afraid? Why, don’t you know I have a Father, and don’t you know He takes care of me all the time?” Then, seeing my friend’s confusion, she added gently, “Surely my Father is your Father too, and you know Him, and you know He always takes care of His children.” It was a lesson my friend never forgot.
“See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are” (1 John 3:1). The love given to us is the love of a father for his child—a tender, protective love that understands our weakness and our needs and cares for us accordingly. He treats us as children, and all He asks in return is that we treat Him as a Father whom we can trust without anxiety.
We must take the place of children—dependent and trusting—and allow Him to take the place of Father—caring and responsible. Because we are the children and He is the Father, we must let Him do the Father’s part. Too often, we take that role upon ourselves and try to care for and provide for our own needs. But no good earthly father would want his children to carry his responsibilities, and certainly our heavenly Father would not want us to carry His.
No wonder we are told, “casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7). Of course He cares for us—it is His role as Father. He would not be a good Father if He did not. All He asks is that we tell Him what we need and then leave the provision to Him. He promises that if we do this, “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7).
Children of a good earthly father are at peace because they trust their father’s care. Yet the children of the heavenly Father often have no peace because they are afraid to trust Him. They may tell Him their needs, but only as a routine. They do not truly believe He will take care of them. And so they continue to carry their burdens as though they had no Father in heaven at all.
What foolishness this is. If any earthly father is worthy of his children’s trust, how much more is our heavenly Father worthy of ours. The reason so few trust Him is either that they have not realised He is truly their Father, or that, although they call Him Father, they have never understood what that really means.
The answer to your unrest is to become truly acquainted with the Father.
“For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” (Romans 8:15). Is this spirit of adoption ruling in your heart, or is it the spirit of fear? Your peace depends entirely on this. No effort, struggle, or prayer can bring you rest while the spirit of adoption is absent.
But you may ask how to receive this spirit. It is not something you obtain by effort. It comes naturally when you discover that God truly is your Father. When you realise this, you cannot help but think and act like a child—and that is what the spirit of adoption means. It is not mysterious; it is simply the natural result of finding a Father where you once thought there was only a Judge.
The great need, therefore, is to make this discovery. To do this, we must listen to what Christ says about the Father and believe it.
“Truly, truly, I say to you, we speak of what we know, and bear witness to what we have seen, but you do not receive our testimony” (John 3:11).
“The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own authority, but the Father who dwells in me does his works” (John 14:10).
“Whoever receives his testimony sets his seal to this, that God is true” (John 3:33).
If we accept Christ’s testimony, we declare that God is true. If we reject it, we make Him a liar.
“If you had known me, you would have known my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him” (John 14:7). We must decide that from now on we will believe His testimony and truly know the Father. For us, there must be “one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist” (1 Corinthians 8:6).