There is a really good children’s book called “ARE YOU MY MOTHER?” written way back in 1960 by P. D. Eastman and published by Random House Books for Young Readers. If you have never read it, it is about this tiny bird that falls out of the nest and goes off in search of its mommy. Every wrong thing that could possibly be asked, is asked if it is the bird’s mother…from a huge tractor to other species of animals.
G-d laments how we trade up G-d for isms that are nonsensical. As ridiculous as a bird asking a tractor if it is its mother, is the quest of man to find replacements to G-d.
Why then do we do it? Remember being five and rebellious. Not liking either our bedtime or our dinner menu choices. And deciding we’re adopted or something like that. Switch up our current parents for a fantasy parents, where we can choose the rules.
We do that spiritually. Don’t want to have to toe the line of Mitzvot and life outlines given to us by our Creator. So, like dumb children, we rebel.
Why discuss today? Because Professor Stephen Hawking, who is one of atheism’s champions, is in quest of his alien powers. Instead of hearkening to G-d, Shema Yisroel, here is what he wants to hearken to: http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-33596271
Some little boy I know had a step-dad, as his father had passed on. One day, the step-dad imposed some necessary rule…and the little boy stated the truth. “You’re not my father,” he said with resentment in his tone. The stepdad looked at him and pulled a sad face. “If that’s so, if I’m not your father, then you’re not my son…” The little boy’s eyes widened. He thought of the hugs, the bedtimes stories, the snacks, the sense of security of this man’s whole persona. And he burst into tears. Running right to the stepdad, he screamed, “I am your son. I am your son….I am…I am…I am!”
Chevra, G-d is our Father. And the minute we stop realizing that, is the moment G-d is forced to say, “If you don’t acknowledge me as your Father, then you’re not my child.” Don’t ever get ourselves into the position of having to cry, “oh, but yes, I am your child. I am, I am, I am…”