One summer evening during a violent thunderstorm, a mother was tucking her small son into bed. She was just about to turn off the light when he asked in a trembling voice, “Mommy, will you sleep with me tonight?” His mother smiled and gave him a reassuring hug. “I can’t, dear,” she said, “I have to sleep with your daddy.” After a long silence he said, “The big sissy.”
Many stories have been told of rifts between fathers and their children
Luke (Chapter 15) records a story Jesus told about a prodigal son. This son had “itchy feet.” He demanded his inheritance early, packed up his bags and headed out to enjoy life. In time, this son squandered all of his inheritance and found himself in a pig pen feeding pigs in order to earn some money. Finally the young man reached the end of his rope and he decided to return home to his father’s house. The prodigal’s father saw him coming down the dusty road, still quite a distance away. His heart jumped up into his throat. His son who was lost was now found. The father received him back into the family with open arms – calling for a celebration feast.
Sadly, as in the Bible story of the prodigal son, family relationships don’t always function smoothly. In this story it’s the father who is forgiving and compassionate. Forgiveness, of course, operates both ways. We need compassionate forgiveness, too.
Jews, Christians and Muslims think of Abraham as their spiritual father. He’s often referred to as Father Abraham. The lines of a beautiful old spiritual ring out: “Rock-a my soul in the bosom of Abraham.”
But wait – Abraham’s bosom may be a bit rocky.
Sarah and Abraham finally were able to have a son in their old age. His name is Isaac. Abraham seems to love the boy. At one point, however, Abraham has some sort of vision or dream that he should sacrifice his son. The shocking thing is he is willing to do this! He takes Isaac up into the local mountains, has him carry the wood that is to be used to cremate his sacrificed body. “Dad,” Isaac says, “Where’s the lamb we are going to use for the sacrifice?” Abraham replies, “Don’t worry, son. God will make a sacrifice available for us.”
Isaac places the wood down in front of the stone altar. Abraham grabs hold of the boy, binds him up and places him on the rock altar. Once there, Abraham cocks his knife-clad hand in a final gesture to effect the sacrifice. His arm muscles flex. A slight upward movement precedes his arm’s downward thrust. It’s only at the very last second that Abraham thinks he heard the voice of God saying, “That’s enough. Stop!” Abraham slowly lowers his trembling hand in obedience to that voice.
If we listen carefully we can all hear that voice. It’s an inner voice that reminds us of what is right and what is wrong, what is good and what is evil.
Abraham later says God told him to do all this. I guess we all need someone else to blame. Thank God there’s a better story. It’s the story of a local businessman who takes a young woman into his heart, wanting her to be his wife. When he discovers she is already pregnant he first wants to break things off, but feels sorry for her and doesn’t want her to have to suffer from small town gossip and criticism – or worse. He ends up quietly marrying her. He stands by her when the child is born; gives the boy his family name; accepts this stepson as his very own. This little boy could call him “Dad.”
He takes the young boy into the family business and teaches him a trade. The boy stays with his dad and mom until he’s in his thirties and decides to go out on his own. This stepdad’s name is Joseph. His wife is Mary. His stepson, who became his son, indeed, is Jesus.
Jesus is sometimes called “The Son of Man.” Joseph was the “man.” He was a real father to Jesus. The Catholic Church even turned him into a Saint. It’s not who donates the sperm or the egg, but who lovingly takes care of a child that determines parenthood. It can be a man and a woman together, a single woman or single man, two women together or two men together. What makes a family real is the love they share and the care that is given. Stepchildren, adopted children, foster children, orphan children are the real children of this kind of father or mother.
“Dad” is a great name to be called. It’s also a great name to call someone else.
I’m a father. Tiffany doesn’t carry what I would most treasure as a gift from any of my children or grandchildren. A tender hug and kiss, a softly pronounced “I love you, dad (or grandpa)” would move me more than anything Tiffany has to offer. It would last longer, too. Rev. Dan Koeshall is the Senior Pastor at The Metropolitan Community Church (The Met) in San Diego, California, themetchurch.org.
