“The Bible calls on us to develop a theological imagination within which we see the world as a community and not a collection of hostilities.”
Esau McCaulley, Reading While Black
Jesus said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Matt 5:44–45). This bolded statement is what many describe as “common grace,” and reminds us that the “Father of lights” is the source of “every good and perfect gift” (James 1:17). As David French recently wrote applying this concept to politics, “common grace” explains how conservatives can fully acknowledge with progressives “the great good that mankind” can obviously accomplish: “God’s grace elevates us, and so do functioning institutions like healthy families, churches, and communities.”[1]
God is the source of all humanity, their Maker, Creator, and the Establisher of their very existence on this planet. In that sense, He is the universal Father. Even in the early church, J.N.D. Kelly notes that in pre-Nicene theology, “‘Father’ referred primarily to His role as creator and author of all things.”[2] And it’s this sense that is “probably the original meaning in the Apostle’s Creed,” which states that “I believe in God the Father, Maker of heaven and earth.”[3] He may not yet or ever be everyone’s Abba or the redemptive Father (discussed in this series) or act in a way that is consistent with following Jesus (the meaning in Matt. 5:44 above), but His universal Fatherhood is real and an important part of our apologetic to all people. Lost prodigal humanity does matter to God! That includes you and me. It includes Biden and Trump, Kamala Harris and Candice Owens, Rachel Madow and Tucker Carlson, and everyone in between. As my friend, Gary Freeman, recently posted in addressing the rampant political polarization in the Church: “Christians, stop trying to neatly fit into earthly narratives.” Make no mistake: Only when doctrines like common grace and the imago Dei are reemphasized and re-cemented to the universal Fatherhood of God will we ever be able to see beyond binary choices and love like Jesus loved. Only then will we begin to view those with whom we disagree as “mistaken,” rather than “godless” enemies. Truly, only when we can see each other through the lens of our “sameness” and not just our differences, can we ever hope to be people who are quicker to listen (James 1:19) than to cancel.
What’s more, when we truly believe that we’re all children of God, created in his image, it’s easier to wear a mask in a global pandemic. We find that George Floyd’s death grieves us deeply and, no matter the color of our skin, we yearn for justice and reform. It becomes less about our personal take, freedom, or rights, and more about loving our neighbor and showing solidarity with our communities and the world. [BTW, it’s worth pointing out that “Love thy neighbor”—the second greatest commandment—is much more consistent with showing solidarity than demanding our rights.] Believing in the universal Fatherhood of God, we become better—more compassionate, empathic, and gracious—humans. Yes, many of our human family members may be lost or estranged from God, but they’re still our brothers and sisters in a real sense.
The universal Fatherhood of God also reminds us to love and accept others (sometimes even our closest friends, parents, or children) even if they reject or fall away from our faith. As Phil Vischer recently tweeted:
“We’ve got to get rid of the ‘us’ vs. ‘them’ mentality that pervades so much of evangelicalism. How can we love ‘them’ if we are so focused on how ‘them’ is against ‘us?’…that one of ‘us’ could become ‘them’ is so threatening, that we cannot love. We can only oppose. For fear that others of ‘us’ could become ‘them’ if we don’t take a stand against the ‘them-ness’ of the one that once was ‘us’… not saying doctrine does not matter. Just saying love over all.”[4]
Moreover, the Bible teaches that we’re our brother’s keeper. All human offspring on this planet—whatever “kindred, tongue, tribe, or nation” they may be from—share a frailty, a common dust, and are “fearfully and wonderfully made.” While wrestling with the meaning of difficult descriptors like “objects of his wrath” or “vessels fit for destruction” for those outside of Christ, Christians cannot lose sight of the true brotherhood of man. Indeed, it’s in part because we’ve undervalued simple truths like the universal Fatherhood of God that, for many, listening conversations and diverse friendships are no longer prioritized or enjoyed.
And, despite the push-back and disdain of the religious guard of his day, isn’t this the example Jesus showed us?:
“Then Jesus went out to the lakeshore again and taught the crowds that were coming to him. As he walked along, he saw Levi son of Alphaeus sitting at his tax collector’s booth. ‘Follow me and be my disciple,’ Jesus said to him. So Levi got up and followed him. Later, Levi invited Jesus and his disciples to his home as dinner guests, along with many tax collectors and other disreputable sinners. (There were many people of this kind among Jesus’ followers.) But when the teachers of religious law who were Pharisees saw him eating with tax collectors and other sinners, they asked his disciples, ‘Why does he eat with such scum?’ When Jesus heard this, he told them, ‘Healthy people don’t need a doctor—sick people do. I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners.’
Mark 2:13-17, NLT
[1] https://frenchpress.thedispatch.com/p/the-question-that-dictates-how-christians?r=awk20&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=email&utm_source=copy&fbclid=IwAR0q36Q5MAcIf7_sr-0kLMdYXSaG0Faql1N0kG7zeO-u6qEdkqzX9SIP388
[2] J.N.D. Kelly, Early Christian Doctrines (New York: HarperOne, 1978), 83.
[3] Cameron, “Fatherhood of God,” 254.
[4] Posted on 4.24.21. Since his Veggie Tales fame, Phil Vischer has successfully reinvented himself as a helpful apologist and cultural analyst.