Monday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time
You have received a spirit of adoption through which we cry, Abba! Father! - Romans 8:15
As I grow older (and older) there are changes galore in my life, as there are for anyone at the age of 72. Illness and death are the biggest ones, loved ones lost along the way and that’s just for starters. A sure sign of change is in how I am addressed these days. To my family in Youngstown I will always be “Timmy” even if I reach 100. My children call me dad or pop (and “the old man” when I’m not around) and my grandchildren “grampy.” 40 years in the classroom I was “mister” and sometimes “sir.” Some of the boys called me “Cron-dog” which I never quite understood but was told was a compliment.
These days I have two new names that are becoming more frequent: “honey” and “sweety.” I’ve been addressed as such in restaurants, doctor’s offices, the post office, etc. I’m sure people mean well, but I honestly feel patronized, like an old codger or a geezer. Some view “honey” and “sweety” differently, even affectionate and tender. Like most things in life, it depends on your point of view.
Throughout salvation history God has had an abundance of names, too — Yahweh, Adonai Elohim, El Shaddai, etc. Today Paul in his masterpiece letter to the Church at Rome refers to the name that Jesus called God in his Aramaic tongue, “Abba.” Abba has been interpreted various ways, usually as “daddy” or “papa.” Scholars these days view it as a mix of both respect and tenderness, somewhere between “daddy” and “sir.” Growing up in first century Galilee, Jesus would have addressed Joseph as “abba” as well as other men in his family and elders in town. And there surely was an element of tenderness in it.
Pope Francis wrote of “tenderness”:
Tenderness is not weakness; it is fortitude. It is the path of solidarity, the path of humility. The more powerful you are, the more your actions will have an impact on people, the more responsible you are to act humbly. If you don’t your power will ruin you, and you will ruin the other.
An older monk in a Trappist monastery advised a novice with these words: “You’ll always know who the true greats are here. They show themselves in their gentleness in dealing with the failings and faults of others. It is a sign their prayer has matured. Why do you think that is? It is because those who become friends with God discover that gentleness is the truest sign of divine power.”
How are we likewise mature spiritually? Are we tender and gentle with one another because our Abba God is tender and gentle with us? In the meantime I’m going to try my best to give the ”honey” & “sweety” crowd the benefit of the doubt.
—Timothy J. Cronin (Cron-dog)