God, a Baby

I think I posted a column earlier this month about how being a dad has inspired me to live a more righteous life. It’s like I look at a picture of little Jada and I can’t possibly think of doing, saying, or thinking some nasty thing that I would be ashamed for her to know about. I’ve heard a number of dads say something like this, and its worked for me so far, so everything seemed just peachy.

But lately I’ve been giving a second thought on this. While I’ve heard a number of dads say something like this, I’ve also heard a lot of godly dads talk about the importance of valuing your children without making them into gods. And when you’re looking to someone for inspiration to live more holy, you’re walking a fine line on that one. In terms of why I should be living the right life, it should be preeminently not because I’m accountable to my children (although I am), but because I’m ultimately accountable to a just and holy God.

So now when I look at a picture of Jada, I remember that while I want her to be proud of her daddy and his behavior, I don’t want her to be my god. God, a helpless little baby; that’s ridiculous!

You can probably guess what thought I thought next. For according to the Christian faith, God did indeed become a helpless little baby. How rich and textured, how mysterious and wonderful, how wild and significant is the Christian life.