Our Father …
But if “Our” is problematic,
“Father” is a veritable minefield.
Did Jesus know what a can of worms he opened?
Was Joseph so loving, so present, so formative
that Father was a safe image?
Maybe Jesus’ experience of life was unlike ours,
whose fathers were a mixture of iron and clay,
like ours, whose fathers were present and loving though never perfect,
like ours, whose fathers were angry, wounded, and wounding
like ours, whose fathers were absent by death,
like ours, whose fathers were absent by desertion.
Or maybe the Incarnation is true, deity embracing
the fullness of humanity
and Jesus had a normal home.
Maybe Joseph had that most Christian of virtues –
humility.
Maybe Joseph could step back and give space
for the HeavenFather to radiate blessing.
To pray “Father” means to give space for God;
to recall the ways our fathers gave space to the HeavenFather.
To pray “Father” means to expose the deep wounds
left by mortal fatherhood
and allow ourselves to be
re-fathered from on high.
The Apprentice Priest 