December 15, 2024, Advent 3, Eternal Father, Isaiah 9:6 – Mtr. Kathryn Boswell

saintphilipsnorwood ♦ December 15, 2024 ♦ Leave a comment

To listen to this sermon, click the link above. The text is below.

The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them has light shone.

You have multiplied the nation;
you have increased its joy;
they rejoice before you
as with joy at the harvest,
as they are glad when they divide the spoil.

For the yoke of his burden,
and the staff for his shoulder,
the rod of his oppressor,
you have broken as on the day of Midian.
For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult
and every garment rolled in blood
will be burned as fuel for the fire.
For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,

and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.

And that name is what we’re concentrating on throughout this Advent season. Two weeks ago, on the first Sunday in Advent, we focused on the Christ who is our Wonderful Counselor: our teacher and our guide and our comforter, a God of wisdom and righteousness, a God of grace and truth in astonishing measure. Then, last week, on the second Sunday in Advent, we looked at the Christ who is also our Mighty God: omnipotent, all-powerful, supreme over every other power or authority that exists in heaven or on earth or under the earth – and yet, astonishingly enough, humble and meek, a God who came, not to be served, but to serve.

This week, then, we come to the third part of the Christ’s name, which is Eternal Father. Of all names, this might be the one that is the most difficult for us to get hold of, to see clearly. And the reason for that is that “Father” is such a loaded word for most of us. We all had a father, of course, and that’s exactly where our trouble lies. Some of us were blessed with wonderful, nearly-perfect fathers: fathers we adored, fathers who adored us, who were role models for us, who were strong but gentle, who provided for our family but were generous to those in need. At least, that would be how I imagine a perfect father anyway.

Some of us had fathers who were fathers in name only: fathers who inspired more fear than love, fathers who caused us pain, who did harm to us emotionally or physically, fathers who were so wounded themselves that they had little or nothing to offer their families.

But most of us, I think, had fathers who were a rough mix of those extremes – because fathers are human beings, like all of us. Most of our fathers did the best they could to love and serve their families, and yet in their frail humanity they sometimes failed us. They sometimes hurt us, or disappointed us, just like we, who are plain old human beings, sometimes hurt and disappoint the people who depend on us. They worked hard to provide for us, but they sometimes lost their tempers, or judged us unfairly. Maybe they said things that cut us so deeply that it still hurts when we remember.

And all that means, I think, that most of us have a very complicated understanding of what it means to say that the Christ, whose coming we anticipate with great joy, is our Eternal Father. Of all the parts of this four-part name Isaiah gives to the Christ, Eternal Father is so unavoidably and inextricably human. So what does the Bible say that helps us to untangle our human experience from our hope?

The writer to the Hebrews, quoting the book of Proverbs, offers a kind of double-edged sword in their discussion of the fatherhood of God. “My child,” it says, “don’t be offended by the Lord’s discipline. Don’t get tired of being corrected by him. Because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, just like a human father disciplines the child who is his pride and joy.” Discipline might not be your favorite quality for a perfect father, and yet how great a sign of love it is when a father takes delight in forming the character of his child – not out of displeasure or impatience, but out of a desire to help his child grow into the fullness of who and what they were created to be.

Abuse is a terrible thing, but we’ve all known children whose fathers failed them in the opposite way: not by harsh correction, but by simply not caring enough to set boundaries or provide structures, by leaving their children without a guide or example. Nothing could be further from the father-love of God. We are not left alone; even now as we await his return, his promise is that he will never leave us or forsake us. We have all suffered from the consequences of our unwise decisions or thoughtless acts. Even though we have found that painful sometimes, and frustrating, the truth is that that is the goodness of the father, who loves us enough to suffer the pain of correcting the child he loves, who cares enough to tell us no.

Sometimes, though, terrible things happen in our lives, as they do in this world that is broken and corrupted by sin. And there is sometimes a temptation, in our grief and in our sadness, for us to see the hand of God’s condemnation in those horrific events in our lives. We say or think things like: “I must have done something really bad,” “God must be really angry at me,” “He must be punishing me,” by letting my child die, by letting me lose my job, by letting me receive this bad result from my biopsy. I have heard people say those kinds of things, and I think it is human nature for us to have those fears. But know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that those would be the actions of an abuser – not a loving father – not our God. God corrects the child he loves, for the good of the child. God doesn’t smite his child in condemnation. God doesn’t crush his child into submission. Never.

John writes this, in his first letter, “God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him. In this way God’s love is perfected in us, so that we may have boldness on the Day of Judgment, because as He is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear, because fear has to do with punishment.”

Some of us did have wonderful, loving, nearly-perfect fathers, and that can be a real help in understanding what it means that the Christ is Eternal Father. But one limitation that even the best father has is that they are human beings. Not just that they make mistakes or lose their tempers, but that they are not infinite and eternal. They can’t always be there for us, as much as they would like to be. They are limited by time and by space and by understanding, and maybe most of all, they are limited by their mortality. Even the best earthly father will die and leave us.

But Jesus promised, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Having given his life, once for all on the cross, he will never die again. He will never run out of grace or forgiveness or patience or love. We will never, ever, grow too big for his lap. He is Eternal Father. He is Everlasting Father. He is our Father.

O come, O Key of David, come
and open wide our heavenly home.
Make safe for us the heavenward road
and bar the way to death’s abode.

Come, Lord Jesus! +