Fatherhood

Our church met earlier than usual this week for Father’s Day. We had some traveling to do Sunday to see our dads and even more, to spend some time with my mom whose cancer seems to be getting the best of her...and my dad. We shared a great meal: bagels and orange rolls and egg casserole (my job was just to cook the sausage for the casserole on the grill). Oh, and we had fruit and other healthy stuff. And we had communion. Spontaneously, we got into a discussion about why we do communion, what it does, what it doesn't do, what it means, what it doesn't mean. It was great to hear the youth and the adults asking questions, making comments. We decided that the most special aspect to us is how the body of Christ is remembered (re-membered) as we come together and share it, each of us eating and drinking the same thing at the same time, being brought into communion with each other as we are brought into communion with the Messiah. And we also left room for the mystery, that somehow there is some of God's magic in it. Paul talked somewhere about being weak or sick or even dying because of not recognizing the body of the Lord when you take it.

But the best meat was—as usual—found not in the kitchen, but in our hearts. After we sang for a while, we started talking about fatherhood. C. S. Lewis has compiled an Anthology of George MacDonald, and in his introduction he reveals what I believe was the greatest attraction he had for his ol' Scotch master.

We have learned from Freud and others about those distortions in character and errors in thought which result from a man's early conflicts with his father. Far the most important thing we can know about George MacDonald is that his whole life illustrates the opposite process. An almost perfect relationship with his father was the earthly root of all his wisdom. From his own father, he said, he first learned that Fatherhood must be at the core of the universe. He was thus prepared in an unusual way to teach that religion in which the relation of Father and Son is of all relations the most central.

And we didn't want to take our own fathers for granted. We had emailed earlier in the week, and everyone came ready to answer this question:

What is a quality of Father God that you see in your father?

From the youngest to the oldest we shared something special to us. Grace. Mercy. Love. Patience. Wisdom. Dedication. Commitment. Sacrifice. Giver. Healer. Scott and I tried not to let it go to our heads too much when our children shared, but I must say, from looking at his face and knowing my own, it was a real blessing to hear those words. And we definitely wanted it to go to our hearts. My daughter actually wrote hers out. It didn't help, though, she couldn't read it without crying and my wife had to finish it. (be still my heart—and yes, she is her father's daughter). Scott's daughter wrote hers out, too. It was a beautiful time, especially for the adults to share what meant the most to each of us about our fathers. I shared about my 3 fathers, all of them adopted.

My dad who raised me adopted me as a baby. He is a wise man, filled with knowledge from both reading extensively and living broadly. He is committed to my family. He is still married to my mom for over 40 years now, and his commitment is lately put to the test, through the fires of affliction as he drives her to Houston, stays with her, carries her, loves her, and gives up his life for her, walking through cancer with her. And it's not so much the fact that he persistently serves her, but rather the way he hurts for her, that betrays his heart—revealing that it is not of duty that he serves her, but of love and desire. What a beautiful example to me and to all who see it. Every child wants a strong daddy (my dad can beat up your dad) and I do have, but seeing his knees weak for the woman he loves is even better.

My second father is Jill's dad. I wrote to him that when we first got married, the "-in-law" part seemed more real, but now the "father-" part does. The mark of this man is his dedication to his children, not just paying for their education, encouraging them, or taking them to church, but coming for them when they need him. A couple of good stories should be told sometime about rescuing Jill from a summer camp disaster and rescuing "little pillow," but that's for later. I know a lot of men feel like they're always competing with their wife's (idealized) father. Not me. I am truly blessed to have a second dad. And what a complementary set: my dad was always really handy when it came to paying for stuff—her dad is really handy when it comes to fixing stuff. Woohoo! More than that I actually enjoy talking to him—it's funny when Jill asks me, "Who have you been talking to in there for the last hour?" to casually tell her, "Your dad." Keeps her guessing, too.

My third father is a man named Tom Manning. What a man. There are no better words to describe Tom's relationship to me than my spiritual father. Tom spoke the words of life to me so that I could finally be born again (or "born from the top" as Jesus talked about in John 3). But more even than that, Tom continued to feed me and give me direction for my new life. But more even than that Tom opened up for me some truth about God that has infected me forever, and I don't know how else I could've caught this. Tom was not related to me in any way except by heart. He had very little to gain from me, and what little he did, he sacrificed for the sake of my eternal soul (he was a mentor to me in business and indirectly profited when I hit my business targets), getting far less in return than he ever gave me. Tom drove on many occasions over 3 hours one way on a work night to be with me when I needed him. He prayed with me, talked tough to me, cried with me, and literally gave up big pieces of his life and his family's life so that I could have one worth living. And he never gave up on me. I guess he still hasn't, even though I don't talk to him much these days. He showed me that fatherhood was not something you are stuck with, but something you choose, and fatherhood is not confined to family. You can give your life to whomever you choose. And it was not for nothing. Maximus says in the beginning of Gladiator, "What we do in this life echoes in eternity." The ripples of Tom Manning echo through many lives that Jill and I have touched, and they never even know it. I know that it didn't start with Tom, and it doesn't start with any of us who decide to father others, whether we are men or women, seeding and nurturing spiritual life in others. But as for me, my honor as a spiritual son goes to Tom.

Of course, the well of Fatherhood from which all good fathers draw is the deepest well in all of reality, and that takes me back to MacDonald. Fatherhood must be at the core of the universe. Wow. To me that has a way of orienting my thinking about everything. And apparently Jesus, too. He loved His Father. He was infatuated with His relationship to His Father, even addicted to it. He bragged about His relationship with His Father—so much in fact that it made the religious crowd want to puke. They finally got so annoyed at hearing Him talk about "His Father" that they claimed God as their father and accused Jesus of being a bastard-child. That's in John 8. Very nasty. But Jesus can hold his own. He let them know that He wasn't worried about his lineage, but they should be worried about theirs. He called them sons of the devil because they did what their father the devil did (so much for keeping the peace).

I just pulled out a few passages from the book of John and one from Hebrews that help to characterize what the Father-Son relationship looks like. I asked everyone to pick out their favorite one, and then we read the favorites together.

• The Father and Son work together (John 5:16-17)
• The Father trusts the Son (John 5:22-23)
• The Father and the Son cooperate (John 6:44-47)
• The Father gives life (John 6:57)
• The Father works on behalf of the Son (John 6:65)
• The Father speaks for the Son (8:18)
• The Son speaks for the Father (John 8:28)
• The Father highlights the Son (John 8:54)
• The Son trusts the Father (John 10:18)
• The Father gives gifts to the Son (John 10:29-30)
• The Father honors friends of the Son (John 12:26)
• The Son is the way to the Father (John 14:6)
• The Father loves the ones who love the Son (John 14:21)
• People who hate the Son hate the Father (John 15:24)
• The Father helps the friends of the Son (John 17:11)
• The Father extends his family to include His Son’s friends (John 17:21-23)
• The Father came through for the Son, even if it seemed too late (Hebrews 5:7-9)
• The Son does what the Father does (John 8:39-47)

I know there is a fuller picture to paint than this of the Father and Son relationship, but John seems to have paid special attention to this. I would probably suggest that John gets the credit for figuring out that Jesus was not about the law, the prophets, the psalms, the temple, the synagogue, service, duty, ministry, tradition, the Scriptures, or anything else that seems so important in any religion, but rather Jesus was about the Father. He was desperate for Him. The Father came first for Him and only after that was He any good for anyone else. ("The Son can do nothing of himself." - John 5:19).

Driving home today, I was beat down about mom's cancer and the toll it is taking on all of us, especially my father. It reminded me again how vital the Father is in my life, His unfailing Fatherhood. None of us will ever be able to offer that fully to anyone else, and none of us should presume to step between the Father and His child. Fatherhood is the core of the universe, and it is available to each of us to receive as sons and to borrow as fathers. What a privilege.