Proverbs 8:1, 22-31; Psalm 8; Romans 5:1-5; John 16:12-15
So, in addition to being Trinity Sunday, today is also Father’s Day. It seems to me that fatherhood must be quite stressful––there are a lot of expectations on what fathers should do and who they should be, lots of emphasis on work-life balance, lots of pressure to ensure that your children grow up to be competent adults who are economically self-sufficient. And these days, the expectations seem to have expanded; the model of fatherhood has shifted radically in this generation, and even if you’re not actively parenting your children, you might see it as grandfathers watching your own sons be fathers. You’re now expected to be emotionally available to your children, to teach them how to see vulnerability as a strength, to teach them compassion rather than competition, even though maybe you were taught the opposite as a child. There are lots of expectations and lots of chances to get it wrong.
And so I’ve always wondered how fathers relate to our traditional imagery of God the Father. I mean, it seems like it might be kind of intense, having God as this role model of what a father should be. After all, God the Father is the Creator of the whole world, setting everything into its place, making sure everything is in order so life can happen. When I imagine a traditional God-the-Father, I imagine someone whose lawn is perfect, without any stray leaves, someone whose workshop is impeccably organized, with every screw in its perfectly labelled jar, (baby food jar if you’re old school), ready for the next project. I imagine God the Father as being so organized that his email inbox is actually empty, the way it’s supposed to be.
God the Father also handles power and authority perfectly, wielding it when appropriate and withholding it when necessary. God the Father made the ultimate sacrifice, allowing his Son to live his life and then die at the hands of soldiers. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult that would be, to bring a Son into the world, to love that child with everything, to call that Son beloved, and then to watch that Son voluntarily walk the road to Jerusalem and the cross for the sake of those who didn’t deserve it. And to hear that Son say, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” in his moment of death. To hold back one’s own power in order to let things unfold, and then to hear a cry of abandonment.
How challenging it must be to be a father and to try to live up to this role model in God. Mothers have traditionally had Mary as a biblical role model but fathers have God. Inspiring, yes, but also intimidating, with so many ways to fail to measure up. It seems to me that to be a father is to worry––to worry about your children, to worry about how you’re doing as a father, to worry about whether or not you are living up to the divine standard.
But here’s what I want to say to you fathers and father figures, whether that is as big brothers, as uncles, as mentors, or as grandfathers, (and if you aren’t a father but you have a father, maybe this is for you, too.)
First of all, God is with you. By that I mean that God sympathizes with all of your worries and cares and struggles. In Psalm 8, we said that God cares for mortals, but the hebrew actually says that God cares for the children of a’dam. Just as you are concerned for those in your care, God is concerned for all the children of the earth. God knows what it is to want your children to do well, God knows what it is to see them hurt each other. God knows the pain of watching them struggle, and even fail. God knows the feeling of being rejected by your children, or estranged from them. God is with you in this.
Likewise, God shares the joys and celebrations you have in your children. In the reading from Proverbs we heard this morning, we heard that the Spirit of God delights in the human race. When you pump your fists with pride at a goal or an award or a stellar performance, God, too, celebrates with you. The joy you felt in your child’s first step, or first laugh, or first job, or the birth of their first child, that joy was felt––is felt––by God. In God, you have a father who truly understands everything you are going through, who understands all the secret struggles and joys in your heart that you might not be able to express. God gets what this whole fatherhood thing is about.
The second thing I want to say is that you are not expected to be a father all on your own. Our reading from Romans this morning, which reminds us that it is through Christ that we receive grace and are justified or forgiven, also says that “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” God’s love has been poured into your hearts through the Holy Spirit. You are not expected to navigate fatherhood on your own. You are not left to develop the tools to do it on your own. God, like the good father he is, equips you for success by sending you the Holy Spirit to give you strength, to give you love, to give you everything you need to raise the children God has sent to you. God does not leave you to do this alone.
The last thing I want to say is that, even with God’s presence, things happen, and when they do God forgives you. God knows that fathers aren’t perfect, God knows the damage that fathers can do, intentionally or unintentionally. Fathers especially, with the weight of society’s expectations, feel particularly tasked with raising sons (daughters, for some reason, get assigned to their moms), and so fathers and sons have a special relationship, and when a son fails, the father feels it the hardest, and feels the most responsible, plagued by the thought that a son’s failure comes from a failure of the father. So let me say it clearly, through Jesus Christ, your failures, your mistakes, your sins, are forgiven. God, your own heavenly Father, forgives you for all the things done and left undone, all the words said and left unsaid, to both your sons and your daughters. God forgives you for trying to make your kids strong, and for not making them strong enough. God forgives you for not spending enough time with the kids when they were young, for losing your temper when they were teenagers. God forgives you all of it.
More than that, God delights in you as a father. God is so proud when you ace that emotionally-laden father-daughter, or father-son, conversation. God rejoices when you reach out after an argument that someone else started. When you let your child go, even though you think they’re going in the wrong direction––when you let them chart their own path, God pumps God’s fists. Just as you delight in your children, God delights in you.
And so today, not just Happy Father’s Day, but Blessed Father’s Day. In this year to come, may God who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit, bless you and be a source of strength and inspiration for you. Know that God loves and cares about your children as much as you do, even more, and that while God has given you the responsibility and calling of fatherhood, God empowers and blesses you to do it. Thanks be to God. Amen.
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