👨‍👧‍👦 Why Jesus Introduced God as Father

There’s a reason Jesus introduced us to God as Father. Not primarily as Judge, King, or even Creator—but Father. It wasn’t just poetic or symbolic. It was purposeful. Jesus came to correct our vision of God—and, in doing so, restore our vision of ourselves.

A Radical Shift in Perspective
In the ancient world, and even today, many relate to God as a distant figure: a righteous Judge who demands perfection, or a holy Being who is unapproachable. But Jesus reframed that. He didn’t just teach us about God; He revealed Him. And when He taught us to pray, He didn’t say, “Pray to the Judge of all the earth.” He said, “Our Father.”

This shift is revolutionary. A judge operates on merit. A father operates on love. A judge must uphold the law. A father seeks restoration. And while God is just, Jesus showed us that justice and mercy are not opposites in Him—they are intertwined in love.

The True Character of God
My favorite picture of God comes from Exodus 34:6—when God describes Himself in His own words:

“The Lord, the Lord, compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness…”

That’s who He says He is. Yes, the next verse reminds us that He does not clear the guilty—but even His judgment flows from the heart of a Father who is gracious, faithful, and slow to anger. That character never changes, no matter what aspect of God we encounter.

The Power of Being a Child
The gospel doesn’t just call us to serve God; it calls us to become His children. John 1:12 says,

“To all who received Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God.”

We don’t earn that right—we receive it through Jesus Christ and Him crucified. And once we are sons and daughters, we are secure. Jesus said, “The son abides forever.” We are not visitors in the house of God—we are family. Not tolerated, but wanted.

Seeing God Changes How We See Ourselves
When we begin to see God as Father, everything else shifts. If He is our Father, then we are His children. That means we carry His image, His heart, and His purpose. We’re not here to strive for acceptance—we live from acceptance. We don’t exist to prove our worth—we exist because we are already loved.

This is why the story of the Prodigal Son matters so much. Even while he was living in a distant country, wasting his inheritance in riotous living, he was still a son. The father's heart never changed. He watched the road, ran to meet him, and celebrated his return. That parable reminds us that we are still God's children, even when we aren't acting like it. His faithfulness is not dependent on our consistency. As Paul says in 2 Timothy 2:13, "If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself."

Many of us can relate to being the child of a parent who remained a parent, even when we were lost. For some, it's the memory of a mother who never stopped loving, supporting, or believing in them—even through failure or shame. That steady, undeserved love paints a clearer picture of what Jesus meant when He said, "how much more your Father in Heaven." If our earthly parents, flawed as they are, can remain faithful to their role, how much more will our perfect Heavenly Father remain faithful to His.

This doesn't give permission to live recklessly, but it does anchor our identity in grace. It's a call to return—not because we've proven ourselves, but because we've remembered who we are and who our Father is.

What would change in your life if you truly believed you are God’s child, no matter what?

Conclusion:
Jesus came to reveal the Father—not just to correct bad theology, but to heal broken hearts. When we embrace God as Father, we also embrace ourselves as His children. And from that place, we find rest, identity, and purpose.