Making Peace with the Word Father

by Karen A. Bellenir

Father’s Day often turns people’s thoughts toward their earthly fathers. Some may also honor their heavenly father. With this in mind, I’d like to offer these excerpts from my book Our Father: Reflections on the Words Jesus Taught Us to Pray.

If there's ever a contest held for the most controversial word in the Lord's Prayer, surely this one will be a top contender: Father.

My own earthly father demonstrated some of the best qualities of fatherhood. And some less so.  As I navigated my final years of adolescence, he expressed a deep disappointment over choices I made. Admittedly, some of my choices were regrettable, but others merely represented the growing distance between us.

Many young people go through similar periods of alienation from one or both parents. For the lucky ones, adulthood brings reconciliation. Dad and I never had that chance. He suffered a traumatic brain injury in an automobile accident. Although he lived through the experience, he did not recover normal cognitive functions.

 So, when I encountered the admonition to address my prayers to a heavenly Father, the word Father carried too much emotional baggage. It became a stumbling block. To make matters more complicated, I understood that other people experienced issues with their earthly fathers that made mine appear saintly. Did God expect all these people to call him "Father" too?

 Apparently so. God wanted to redeem the word so that I could understand his unconditional love for me. I began to see the possibility of a Father in another light with a different set of expectations. A father was one who held a child by the hand and didn't let go during the turbulent years of adolescence. A father provided guidance, offered support, and always believed the best. From a father, a child learned the social graces, a work ethic, and the obligations of piety. The wisdom to deal with disappointment and the humility to deal with happiness derived from lessons that came through the office of fatherhood.

 Although it may seem counterintuitive, once I had a better idea about what a father ought to be, I could actually remember my own earthly father in a more compassionate way. He fathered me, truly. He taught me to stand in awe before nature’s wonders. He demonstrated hospitality to people from all walks of life. He respected individuals irrespective of race, social status, or language. He played with words, joyfully creating new expressions.

Although my understanding came too late to tell him so, I forgave him for what I perceived as his shortcomings. This provided me with a new experience of freedom, and I could begin to address God as Father.

 Beyond these concerns, the politics of gender introduced another stumbling block. Some people reject the term. In their view, using a masculine word to define God diminishes women.

 The feminine counterpart, mother, might serve some, but when I try to embrace it as a substitute, I encounter a different problem. Mother lacks ancient metaphoric associations. Sexist history taints western culture, but even if this is regrettable, it is true. Father was the specific parent who gave a name and identity to the family. Father was the parent responsible for providing for the family. Father was the parent who trained up a child for a trade or consented to a marriage.

 I don't argue with people who prefer to address God as mother. I respect their journeys in linguistic evolution. In communal prayer, I can even join my thoughts with theirs. But, in the quiet of my own heart, I’m not one of them.

 When I pray to God the Father, I’m not addressing a male authority figure. I'm simply addressing the divine parent who gives me spiritual identity and spiritual belonging. I'm praying to the transcendent One who is concerned about training me for my mission in life. If you prefer to address your prayers to a differently titled spiritual parent, go ahead. For myself, I've made peace with Father.

Excerpted and reprinted with permission from Our Father: Reflections on the Words Jesus Taught Us to Pray.

Cell Phones Vs Bibles

By Karen A. Bellenir

You’ve probably heard some grumbling about the awfulness of cell phones. We spend too much time on them. They sap our attention. They contribute to isolation. They lead to digital addiction.

You’ve heard the anecdotes. Holiday meals where people don’t talk to each other because they’re chatting on their phones. Couples involved with their phones instead of their relationships. Personal spaces invaded by the noise of videos playing nearby.

You don’t have to look far to find complainers asking people to reconsider the amount of time they spend on their phones. One that caught my eye was posted on social media by a Christian women’s group. It asked what would happen if people carried their Bibles everywhere instead of their phones. What if they went back to fetch forgotten Bibles, checked Bibles frequently for messages, used Bibles in emergencies, and committed significant time interacting with Bibles?

 While I can appreciate the motivating sentiment, the argument fails. If you’ve got an internet-enabled phone, you’ve got Bibles in your pocket. For example, Biblegateway.com offers access to the text of dozens of translations. In addition, your phone can help you take practical steps to follow biblical teaching. Consider the story of the Good Samaritan. If he’d had a cell phone, he could have summoned emergency help, located the best facility for treating an injured traveler, set up payments to cover care expenses, sent words of encouragement, and monitored the victim’s recovery.

 Admittedly, phones can be problematic. They are sometimes misused in schools. Loud talking can disturb people in many situations. And, in movie theaters, they can be downright unsettling. When the second installment of the Lord of the Rings trilogy came out, I was sitting in a crowded theater enjoying the show. At a critical moment, when Frodo was being influenced by the evil ring, his faithful partner Sam intervened. There was a scuffle. In the dark, hushed theater, a phone rang. Then the actor spoke onscreen, “It’s me. It’s your Sam.” I don’t know whether it was a coincidence or a planned prank, but every time I’ve seen the movie since, the drama of the moment is compromised by the memory of that ringing phone.

 Nevertheless, I’m a fan of modern cell phones, and I’ve got mine sitting beside me right now. I did a little exploring online to see how much time people spend on their phones. Surveys with different assumptions report that people check their phones from dozens to hundreds of times per day, accumulating three to seven hours of daily use. While this may sound excessive, consider the diverse range of things people can do with a phone.

 My phone has replaced my bedside alarm clock, so most mornings, I start my day with a glance at my phone to see what time it is. I don’t wear a watch because I’ve got my phone in my pocket. It has a calendar that helps me keep on schedule. I don’t need to wait for my computer to finish spinning loading indicators to check my email because mail pops up on my phone. A special chime alerts me when my children send messages. My phone lets me check the day’s headlines, gather information about whatever topic interests me at the moment, and see if something I need is in-stock at a local store. When I’m driving, it can help me find the best route and avoid traffic snarls. Perhaps most importantly, it regularly presents updated pictures of my grandchildren.

 When phones are misused, the fault lies with the user not the device. And, phones aren’t the only pieces of equipment subject to misuse. In human hands, almost anything can be misused. Even the Bible.

 Some people misquote Bible passages to manipulate others. Some string unrelated verses together to condemn and dehumanize those with whom they disagree. Some extract lines out of context to make it seem like God supports their political ambitions.

 Yet the Bible also offers a solution to the misuse of its text and anything else: Treat other people in the same way you want to be treated. This is from Matthew 7:12. I know because I looked it up on my phone.

(Reprinted from the author’s newspaper column in The Farmville Herald, May 2024.

It Is a Small World

by Karen A. Bellenir

I remember when the earth seemed unimaginably large. It’s still easy to feel that way. If I spread a blanket on the grass and look up at the sky, I can imagine a gigantic planet spinning beneath me. I’m an infinitesimal speck, hanging on for the ride. If I stand on the shore and look out to the horizon, the earth’s waters stretch as far as I can see. It seems endless.

 Early explorers probably had a similar sense of the earth’s vastness. The first sailing expedition to make it all the way around the world took three years. Ferdinand Magellan left Spain in September 1519 with five ships and 270 crewmen. Along the way, ships and crewmen were lost. Magellan himself was killed in the Philippine islands. In September 1522, just one ship, under the command of Captain Juan Sebastian Elcano, arrived back at the starting point.

 If you measure the size of the earth by the time it takes to go around it, technological innovations have contributed to some shrinking. The current record for the fastest circumnavigation by sea was set in January 2017 by the crew of IDEC Sport, a racing trimaran. They completed the journey in just a few minutes less than 41 days. The fastest solo aerial circumnavigation (at least so far) was accomplished in 67 hours by Steve Fossett in 2005. The International Space Station completes a circumnavigation about once every ninety minutes.

 Earth’s circumference, measured around the equator, is 24,901.4 miles. This may seem like a huge number, but it is comprehendible. Say you know someone who commutes from Farmville to a job in the Richmond area (or vice versa). The drive might be fifty or sixty miles for places between Midlothian and downtown Richmond. Let’s pick an average of fifty-five miles, a 110-mile round trip. Suppose there are five working days per week. But, because of vacations, holidays, and sick days, the annual travel requirement corresponds to forty-eight weeks, representing a total of 240 round trips. Do the math: 240 round trips at 110 miles equals 26,400 miles. A person with this type of commute drives the equivalent of completely around the world every year with almost 1,500 miles left over. That’s enough extra to drive from Farmville to Burlington, Colorado (off I-70 just west of the Kansas state line).

 Would you rather walk? According to Jeremy DeSilva, paleoanthropologist and author of First Steps: How Upright Walking Made Us Human, the average person will take approximately 150 million steps during his or her lifetime. He claims that’s enough steps to walk around the world, not once, not twice, but three times.

 The amount of planetary space per person is also shrinking as earth’s population grows. For the first several millennia of human history, human populations chugged along with gradually increasing numbers. It wasn’t until 1800 that people reached their first billion. It took 127 years to reach the second billion. Today, less than 100 more years, we’re just a bit shy of eight billion. That’s a lot of mouths to feed.

 According to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, approximately three billion people rely on seafood for a significant amount of their protein, but ninety percent of fish populations are facing challenges. Habitat losses and catch rates that do not permit stocks to recover have led to collapses of many important fisheries. The ocean is running out of fish.

 Other planetary resources that once seemed limitless are proving to be finite. Although humanity often viewed earth’s resources as inexhaustible, this has never been true. Droughts bring water scarcity. Depleted soils lead to loss of agricultural productivity. Mines give out. Being careless with resources leads to crises that emphasize the fragility of our small planet’s equilibrium.

 Earth Day, which falls on April 22, provides an opportunity to consider how wisely precious resources are being used. The focal theme this year, invest in our planet, challenges individuals, businesses, and governments to consider pathways to sustainable prosperity. Some people will participate in organized events. Others prefer individual tasks, such as recycling or upcycling, purchasing reusable products, picking up trash, or planting a tree. The health of our world is in our hands.

(Reprinted from the author’s newspaper column in The Farmville Herald, April 2022)