Abba isn’t Daddy

lyndon —  19/1/2013 — Leave a comment

Should Christians speak to God as “Daddy,” or think of God as their “Daddy God” as some people suggest?

This is the first in a series where I will summarise a scholarly article or book in theology. The idea is that there’s a great deal of theological writing that isn’t very accessible. I want to make that writing available to a wider audience.

Background

The New Testament was written in Greek, but Jesus and his disciples most likely spoke Aramaic as their main language. (Aramaic is a Semitic language closely related to Hebrew.) There are a few places in the New Testament where Aramaic words are found transliterated into Greek, alongside a Greek translation of the word. It seems that the New Testament writers felt that those words had a particular significance to the early Christian community.

One of those words is abba, which appears in the following verses (actually it could be Hebrew, but most people assume it’s Aramaic):

Mark 14:36 “Abba, Father,” he said, “everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”

Rom 8:15 The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.”

Gal 4:6 Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.”

From these verses, it seems likely that not only did Jesus address God as abba, but that it had become a distinctive way for Christians to address God too. In each of these three verses, the transliterated Aramaic is followed by the Greek ὁ πατἠρ (ho pater), so that Greek readers knew what abba meant (presumably most of the intended readers didn’t speak Aramaic).

In the mid-20th century, Joachim Jeremias (a famous New Testament scholar) suggested that the Aramaic abba was the way a child would spoke to its father—in other words, that abba was an intimate term, quite different from the more formal sounding “Father” found in our translations. He suggested that abba developed from baby talk, much like “papa” or “mama.”

His idea was that Jesus and the early Christians were speaking to God just like a little child to its father, and that we should do the same. This quickly became a very popular idea, and so it is very common to hear preachers tell people to speak to their “Daddy God,” or something similar.

But it is a silly idea, as we shall see.

Why does it matter?

It is no doubt puzzling to many Christians that our Bible translators seem too stupid to translate abba as “Daddy.” In fact, even though this idea has been around for over 50 years, translators seem adamantly opposed to changing their minds. Most English translations still use “Father,” which is actually more formal than the way most children speak.

As a result, talking about abba as “Daddy” is one way evangelical preachers can put distance between Christians and the Bible. Preachers who claim abba is “Daddy” are telling you something you could never have discovered simply by reading the text. Without meaning to, they are saying that the Bible can only be understood through secret knowledge that the translators of the Bible are determined to keep hidden away. You might well have heard other sermons along the same lines: telling you that a word “literally” or “really” means something in Greek that’s different from the word the translators have chosen.

Sermons like that are used to justify all sorts of stupid ideas, but evangelical Christians should want to be certain that their theology comes from the Bible.

Not only that, but if abba doesn’t mean “Daddy” then we could be addressing God without the respect he deserves. The issue matters to Christians because I assume we’re interested in speaking to God the right way. The only argument for addressing God as “Daddy” comes from the mistaken idea that this is what abba meant.

The article

In 1988, James Barr wrote an article about abba (Barr, J. “Abba Isn’t Daddy.” Journal of Theological Studies 39, no. 1 [1988]: 28-47). This article is important, but generally overlooked by evangelicals. Barr was provoked to write the article partly because:

…the idea that ‘abba was like ‘Daddy’ is, the writer has been assured, a great favourite with students and with preachers.

Barr goes on to show that this is quite incorrect. It now seems very unlikely that abba could have been an infant child’s “babbling word” as Jeremias suggested, and in any case that whole argument is entirely conjectural—there is no evidence to support it. We don’t know how the word was developed, but there is nothing to suggest it has any particular connection with infancy or childhood.

The most important point is that abba was the normal term used by adults at the time of Jesus. In other words, an adult son or daughter would address their Father as abba—it was not a particularly intimate term, and was certainly not confined to children. Children could use the same word, but it wasn’t a child’s word. There is genuine debate about exactly how the word developed (its etymology), and precisely what function the second syllable has (its morphology), but no evidence that it was a word confined to infants or children.

As a result, “Daddy” is a particularly inappropriate word to translate abba. Very few adult children would call their father “Daddy,” because it’s an infantile word. (We might not use “Father” either, as it’s too formal, but “Daddy” is not so much informal as immature.) All the evidence from the ancient Aramaic writings fits this.

The killer on this is that abba could only mean “Daddy” if the writers of the New Testament were complete idiots. We know Greek words like “Daddy”—that is, Greek words that young children used, but which adults never used—such as πἀπας/πἀππας (papas). The writers of the New Testament seem to have a reasonable command of Greek, and one can only assume that if they thought abba meant “Daddy,” then they would have used one of these children’s words (diminutives, to use the technical term). But they don’t.

So if you think abba meant Daddy, you’re claiming to know the Aramaic of Jesus’ day better than the writers of the New Testament. In fact, you’re claiming that every Aramaic-speaker who read the New Testament would have recognised the stupidity of the New Testament writers. Rather unlikely, wouldn’t you agree?

In fact, the Greek in the three verses mentioned always has an article in front of it (ὁ, ho). This is actually an unusual way of addressing a person in Greek—it’s slightly more formal or emphatic than normal, if anything.

Conclusion

In any case, the point remains: Jesus was presumably doing something distinctive by addressing God as “Father,” as were the early Christians when they followed his example. But “Father” is a perfectly good translation for abba, and there’s no need for Christians to be infantile and address God as “Daddy.”

A great deal of energy is being spent by the government, the justice system, and various commentators on the guilt or innocence of David Bain. (He spent many years in prison for murders, but has since been acquitted.) An example is the opinion piece in the Herald by C K Stead (Opinion: Why judge was wrong on Bain – Politics – NZ Herald News).

Some people continue to think David Bain is guilty, but it is evident that at least one jury, and a number of highly qualified legal practitioners, think there is not enough evidence to prove his guilt (and a substantial number of people believe him to be completely innocent).

The level of interest in his guilt or innocence reflects a deep-seated unhappiness at the thought that a guilty person might go free. This unhappiness is, I believe, a God-given sense that something is broken in the world if evil deeds are not dealt with.

Similarly, Joe Karam’s campaign to free David Blain reflects a God-given horror at the thought of punishing an innocent person for someone else’s crimes.

But the Christian can regard this case with peace of mind. Christians are more concerned with the freedom of innocents than the punishment of the guilty. An innocent person’s unjust imprisonment has an effect that cannot be reversed—this life is ruined for them (although they might potentially enjoy freedom in the next). But a guilty person’s crimes never go unpunished.

If someone commits a crime, but there is too little evidence to convict them in a court of law, we simply remember that eventually they will have to answer to God for their actions (as we will ourselves). That is a court in which the guilty never escape on a technicality.

As a result, Christians are right to make sure that justice is biased towards freeing the innocent, even if that results in some guilty people going unpunished in this life. The burden of proof for crimes in our legal system (beyond reasonable doubt) reflects a Christian understanding of the world, and a Christian belief that judgement always meets evildoers—in this life, or the next.

The angst in the public debate results from society’s loss of belief in God’s day of reckoning.

My network storage computer is an old Mac mini. Everything on it is replaceable via downloads, but I still prefer having a physical backup. Because it’s an old machine, Time Machine on it doesn’t support rotation of external drives (as Mountain Lion does). So I’m using SuperDuper instead. To get SuperDuper to support drive rotation, you need to follow these instructions: NSCoriolisBlog » Blog Archive » Rotate backup disks with SuperDuper. The one change is that it seems both the name and UUID must be the same.

(Drive rotation is so that I can always have one drive off-site. I keep one drive off-site, and occasionally swap the two drives over. Hopefully, even if everything in the house goes, I’ll still have access to my data.)

Here’s something which I’ve been curious about for a while now. Why don’t people use their Android devices?

Android has a huge market share advantage in terms of devices shipped. But Apple’s iOS devices are what people actually use. I’ve only got iOS devices, so I have some idea why I use my iOS devices heaps. (They work, and they are beautifully designed so it’s generally a pleasant experience.)

But are Android devices really so rubbish? I’ve seen a few Android phones and from my brief look at them they seem less usable, and the apps seem less attractive to use. And I’ve seen a few videos on the web showing some of the more spectacular UI Android fails, which I guess must make using the phones more frustrating. Perhaps that frustration builds up?

The thing I don’t get is that people don’t even seem to do web browsing on their Androids, especially tablets (90% iOS, less than 5% Android). Have Google really made a web browser that sucks? Or is it that the better screens on Apple’s devices do actually make a significant difference to usage?

And why would Android users be so much less likely to buy things? A recent example is TNW’s tablet magazine:

To give you some insight in how little uptake we saw on Android here are some statistics: for every Android user that downloads an Android magazine we have 80 iOS downloads. (TNW)

Whatever the reasons are (and I’m genuinely mystified!), as long as people love actually using iOS devices, they’ll keep making the bulk of the money in the market.

A few things I learnt

lyndon —  7/7/2012 — 1 Comment

Here are a few of the things I learned about while studying theology.

My wife

I knew Mim was wonderful before studying theology, but now I know it even more. It has been great to spend more time at home than was possible in my old job, but she has still borne by far the greater part of the workload at home. Mim has consistently encouraged me in my study and Christian devotion all the way through the course.

I’ve also learnt that having too much access to my work at home isn’t always ideal, and my plan is to have my theology books in my office rather than in my study at home. Of course, pastoral work necessarily impinges on home and family life, but I realise that I have to carefully manage the overlap. Working in my old job, while it was more difficult in many ways, did at least have relatively clear boundaries which study and pastoral work lack.

My teachers and friends

My teachers did a truly excellent job of teaching me, as did my friends throughout the course. With both teachers and friends I’m thankful that I had not only a source of knowledge, but models of how to live as faithful Christians. They have all helped me to draw the connections between the content of what I’ve studied and its application to my own life and to serving God in the church.

Failure

I have received many kind comments over the last day, for which I’m very thankful. But I think that one of the most valuable lessons I learnt during my course was from failure. My first Hebrew test was such a colossal disaster that my teacher (the excellent James Robson) didn’t give me a mark: instead, I was encouraged to “Keep persevering. If you need help, please ask.” Most of my paperwork from my course has been discarded, but I have kept that test paper.

It reminds me of teachers like James who have encouraged me even when my work didn’t look promising, and it reminds me that what I’ve learnt is a gift from God.

God

This may surprise some of my friends, but studying theology can sometimes bring people to seriously question God. The complexities that become evident in the Christian faith when it is studied carefully can make it seem a rather doubtful idea.

But while studying theology has challenged my thinking, it has been a time where my trust in God and in the authenticity of the Bible has grown. This is especially true of the Old Testament, where having the time to study (and an excellent teacher) has given me a new love not only for the wonderful literary craft of the Hebrew Bible but for God as he is revealed in it.

Taken as a whole, the Christian explanation of the world still makes far more sense to me than the alternatives. I find the Christian hope and message compelling, and I am thankful that my course has opened windows into the complexities of the faith—which, after all, has been studying for millennia—while reaffirming that Jesus is the one I want to call people to follow.

My hope is that I can follow that same Jesus faithfully in my work as a pastor for the rest of my life.