Abba Father

This very early and frigid morning my mind has gone back thirty years to a family road trip we took to Florida. Our children were aged three, five, eight and eleven. My father-in-law graciously lent us his 1979 Chrysler New Yorker and we actually drove to his double wide mobile home in Hollywood, Florida. What was different about this trip was that we stayed in Florida for the whole month of July. Other than the obligatory excursion to Disneyland, we spent a fantastic and relaxing month pool side in very hot weather. Driving long distances with four young children requires some special planning. Days began very early with the rising of the sun. These same days ended by three-thirty in the afternoon with the registration at a hotel or motel that just had to have a swimming pool and air conditioning. Meals were eaten at every MacDonald’s Restaurant that we could discover along the way. Crayons and paper, as well as colouring books, were kept in plentiful supply. Age appropriate reading materials were mandatory. The first day of driving was the worst. Let’s just say that the kids were working out a lasting seating plan in somewhat of a combative way. Being larger seemed to be a real advantage. As we were navigating through the freeways in Toronto in order to head west to the Windsor/ Detroit border crossing, Lozanne turned to me and said, “Are we insane to even think we could do this?” Despite our initial doubts, we managed to make it across the border, get lost in the suburbs of Detroit and actually registered at a very bad Day’s Inn near Cincinnati, Ohio. On the following days, an easy routine was followed and other than the odd flare up in the back seat, behaviour was generally exemplary. The hotel quality improved as we learned what to look for in our accommodation. Lozanne and I have very fond memories of that trip. I am not sure how much our younger children remember of that month, but I suspect at least one memory has made it through the years.

In the days before DVD’s the only media that was available in a car was music. Cassette tapes were now in use and eight track machines had been retired. I remember one tape in particular that everyone enjoyed. That tape entitled “Momma Mia” was produced by the Swedish group called ABBA. I wish I could reverse the first "B" to make the name authentic, but my laptop will not cooperate. I have no idea how many times that tape was played during the four day periods spent travelling to and from Florida, but I am sure it was on a great deal. Everyone in the car enjoyed their music.

At the time, I had no idea that the word “Abba” appears three times in the New Testament. “Abba” is an Aramaic word which translates into English as “daddy” or “papa”. Aramaic was the language of the common man and woman in first century Palestine. It is the very intimate word for father that I suspect loses some of its meaning in the translation into modern English. This morning I have been thinking of its use in Romans 8:15.

15 For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, "Abba, Father."

As be become born again believers, we receive, through the Holy Spirit, the realization that unlike those trying to live by the law and the total sum of their “todos”, we are no longer slaves to being afraid of punishment for our sins. Rather we become acutely and delightfully aware of our position as sons and daughters of a very loving and forgiving God. At this realization we can truly cry out to our Daddy. Those living under the law would probably not approve or such an intimate term of endearment. As believers we can come to our Father in the confidence that our relationship is indeed an intimate one. Our Daddy loves us and will for all eternity.

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