Monthly Archives: October 2019

Thou Art Familiar, Lord

Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name.

Matthew 6:9

Sounds very formal, doesn’t it? It paints a picture of a stern deity glaring at us from a forbidding distance, almost like the gulf between heaven and hell, between Dives and Lazarus in last week’s Gospel [Luke 16:19-31].

That’s quite different from the God who, we claim to believe, loves us so much that He sent His only Son, fully God and fully man, to die for our sins [John 3:16].

But here’s the thing: The early translations of the Bible into English meant nothing of the sort. What we now think are profoundly formal modes of address (thee, thou, thy) were in fact informal pronouns that verged on the familiar, rather like “Hi, Dad!” instead of “Greetings, Father.”

Conversely, the “you” we deem familiar now was only used in formal contexts back then, particularly when addressing a societal superior. “Your Majesty, thou art great indeed” might have gotten you an immediate death sentence for massive disrespect.

Sociolinguists call this difference in formality the T-V distinction, named after the Latin pronouns tu and vos, and it still influences Romance languages to this day (French: tu vs. vous, Spanish: tu vs. vos). In a nutshell, the singular tu and its derivatives connote an intimate, friendly and/or equal relationship between people, while the plural vos et al imply a respectful and/or distant relationship, especially with royalty. (“We are not amused.” “Um, your majesty, there’s no one else here.”)

So which of the two is used in the Latin version of the Lord’s Prayer? Surely the Creator of all things, visible and invisible, merits a royal salute above all royal salutes!

Jesus, though, seemed to have other ideas, for He taught us to pray thus:

Pater Noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum

Matthaeum 6:9; Nova Vulgata

Indeed, throughout the Bible, God is addressed with the familiar tu instead of the distant vos.

So it seems even the early church (the Latin Vulgate dates back to the 4th century) affirmed God as being approachable and familiar, not a distant all-powerful entity who needed to be appeased. A Creator in our midst to be loved, not a cold Judge in a court somewhere who’d smite you ten thousand ways if you so much as stuck out a toe in error.

But then Modern English dropped the T-V distinction, and now we think thou is for kowtowing.

Is this why we hold God at arm’s length in our lives, avoiding Him like that grumpy uncle at the family gathering, only briefly going to Him when we need divine intervention, then immediately turning away again?

Have we unconsciously poisoned our own faith with a cold caricature of the faithful Father who has watched over us every day of our lives, all because of a language shift?


And as for the “God’s in Heaven, so far away” bit, the Catechism of the Catholic Church sets us straight:

[“Who art in heaven”] does not mean a place (“space”), but a way of being; it does not mean that God is distant, but majestic. Our Father is not “elsewhere”: he transcends everything we can conceive of his holiness. It is precisely because he is thrice holy that he is so close to the humble and contrite heart.

“Our Father who art in heaven” is rightly understood to mean that God is in the hearts of the just, as in his holy temple. At the same time, it means that those who pray should desire the one they invoke to dwell in them.

“Heaven” could also be those who bear the image of the heavenly world, and in whom God dwells and tarries.

CCC 2794

So our God is a God of approachable majesty, an all-powerful Father who is with us and loves us, a Creator who gave us life and wants nothing more than to be reunited with us all at the end of days.

Doesn’t sound like an Odin or a Zeus, does He? More like an omnipotent friend, whose friendship (like all true friendships) should never be taken for granted.

God our Father, Thou art hallowed in our sight. Give us Thy servants the strength to do Thy will, to draw all into Thy presence, for Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, now and forever. Amen.

The Nine Words of Relationship with Christ

During our pilgrimage this year, Fr. Paul Staes taught us the following nine words, to be said every morning when we awake, and indeed at every hour of every day, especially when beset by cares and worries beyond our ability to bear:

Jesus, You love me.
Jesus, I trust in You.

And lest we forget what those words truly mean…


Jesus, You know I keep saying “I love You”, but You also know the many times when I don’t really mean those words, when I simply say them under duress, or when my heart is mired in mundane lusts. So many times I’ve said “I love You”, while committing grievous sins against You.

But I know that, through it all, You love me. You’ve loved me even before I was born, and You’ll love me till the end of time. You love me with an intensity and a faithfulness that exceeds anything I could muster from this frail soul locked in a failing body. Your love is a LOVE that will never fail, ever.

And so, Lord, I trust in You. I offer up all my hopes and dreams, my plans and schemes, everything I would call my own. I surrender them all to Your Divine Mercy, trusting that You know what is best for me at every moment in my life.

Guard this frail body of me, Lord. Show me what to do at every waking moment, to preserve and protect this temple of Your Holy Spirit [1 Corinthians 6:19-20]. Guide my hands to do the Father’s will. Guide my feet to walk Your holy Way. Guide my thoughts and words, that they may always be to the glory of the Father, Son and Spirit.

Jesus, You love me.
Jesus, I trust in You.

Amen.