At first glance, I was delighted to see that today, Fathers Day this year, the Gospel randomly set by the Prayer Book 30 years ago, would, by such happy co-incidence, speak directly about God as a father, a Heavenly Father who cares about us far more than the sparrows, whom he loves and safe-guards and provides for so tenderly.

Of course, I realized and remembered right away, that it was not such a strange coincidence at all really. Most of the time when the Bible refers to God, it speaks of him as a father. Yes, there are images of God as a warrior, a shepherd, a rock of salvation, a pillar of fire or cloud, a King of Glory and a Ruler on High, and a mighty God above all goods. But the enduring, abiding, recurring image of him that his people have always had is a Father. The single best known and most-loved and most- repeated prayer of all Christian prayers begins, of course, "Our Father".

We are so used to it we may have lost sight of how unusual, even unique, it is to think of him as a father, to be raised in a religion and faith community and historical tradition that thinks of the mighty and incomprehensible deity, the divinity of faith and worship as a . . . Father. The Greeks did not, the Romans did not, the Egyptians did not, the Scandinavians did not, the Celts did not, the Incans did not, and the Aztecs most certainly did not - alone, really alone, among religions, the Judeo-Christian community thought of him, conceived of him, wrote of him, prayed to him, and believes, understands, and apprehends him, in many ways, to this day, as though he were a "father". Zeus or Jupiter may be seen in some fashion as the Father of the gods, but he was never seen as a father of children, a defender of widows. It is not only a single, brief, off-hand thought of him in our faith either, it is the single overwhelming image of him in our thoughts ad prayers, our devotions, our services, our Scripture.

I am glad, and wonder why - wonder why he is thought of that way, and wonder why I am glad.

It is the universally shared experience, it is something we all have in common - fathers. We may not all have sons, now, or yet, or ever, but we all have fathers. We may have known them for a life -time, lived with them for years, or been raised far from their care and presence, in some very rare cases, we may not even have known much about them, if anything at all.

But we all had them, or have them still, and we all have our thoughts about them, their role and history in our lives, what they meant and mean, we have doubtless miscellaneous and ambiguous memories, some good, some bad, and varied experiences, some happy some sad, but they are, and remain for us, very unlike sunsets or stars or simple vague visions.

And so is our God. Yes he is famously seen, described, and appreciated in things like a star, or a glorious sunset, or the song of a bird, or the smile of child, or any of those touching images we have of him and often use, but above all, most commonly, most recurringly, most reassuringly and occasionally most awkwardly and uncomfortably, he is seen and imagined and understood and even addressed by us as Father, "Our Father", a loving, faithful, perfect, faultless father.

As with our own fathers, the relationship is different for each of us, and varies even in our own individual lives, depending on our age and understanding and experiences and times and places and circumstances:

Mark Twain said famously that when he was 14 his father was so stupid he couldn't stand him, but when he, Mark, turned 21, he was surprised to find out what the old man had learned in 7 years.

. . . So, our understanding and appreciation of God varies over the years and depends very much, not on any changes in him, but on possible changes in us, our changing lives and circumstances. He is unchanging and unchangeable, eternally abiding, the same yesterday, today and forever.

We, of course, are not, and neither is our understanding, or appreciation, or, let's be honest, our love, the same always.

Certainly tribute to our own fathers, and glorious association for them - and quite a standard and measure and summons for you, the fathers among us, to image and re-present, and in so many ways model for your sons what our Faith and Church believes about God. You will in many ways (though mercifully, in all fairness to you, not in all ways) be responsible for the image your children have of God, reassure them the rest of the lives when they hear God spoken of as Father, and that that is a good thing, a very, very good thing, the best thing we can imagine about an otherwise unimaginable God. A brief, but solemn warning - I am a Preacher - before moving on - you risk alarming your grown-children every time they hear, for the rest of their lives, God spoken of as "Father", if you have not done the best you could - not perfectly - but as well as you could. Your calling is immense and unmatched in life.

Now, let us move on, and switch perspective back to us, where we so often most like it to be!

When we are truthful and loving, and real, we do not, we ought to admit, think of our own fathers always, in every case, exactly the same as we have in the past and will in the future. We have felt hurt, over-looked, ignored, unheard, unappreciated by our dads. We can and should and must expect that as we think about God. He does not abandon us, or forget us - we are of more value than sparrows in his sight and in his love, but we may feel that sometimes. We may misunderstand, or even decide on seemingly good evidence that God is aloof or remote or self-involved or too busy or too grand - all those fears and worries we may have felt with our fathers on occasion. But I suspect with them, the good ones, not the pathological ones granted, that we probably only felt that, imagined that, feared that, and it was not really, finally true. Most of them, almost all of them I think and hope, were far more than we sometimes guessed when we hurt or were wounded or angry or resentful. And so it is with God.

I personally hope, I bet you have reason too as well, that God overlooks our tantrums and drama and ingratitude and insecurity as our won fathers did their best.

No disrespect, no diminishment, implied for those wonderful men, but they themselves would be the very first to admit that they are not as good as God, God in his love and care and compassion and provision surpasses the very best in any and every human. But our Fathers, God bless, at least gave us a glimpse, a chance, at coming to see how God might love us - as . . . well as a Father does. Each Sunday we honor and thank and openly declare our loved for God. This one Sunday, not alone, but especially, we do that for our own human fathers as well. God bless them, we thank him for them, those of us blessed to be fathers, seek to be more and more and more like him. Today and everyday.