Thinking of Fathers

I was going to post today's sermon, but I'm currently of the mind that this isn't always the best place for my sermons. Rarely is a sermon generic; it is developed for a specific congregation during a particular time in their common life together.

Instead, I thought I'd just offer a glimpse of some of the places my mind has been going today; a day set aside to honor the role of fathers in our society and in our immediate families.

Unfortunately, the first memory that comes to mind is not exactly pleasant. It is of a hot California day. The summer after my eleventh birthday, my father and I made the long drive from the San Joaquin Valley to my grandparents house on the Central Coast. He was dropping me off "for the summer." We both knew better. From the balcony on the second floor I watched him turn around and pull out into the street. Soon the only trace of him was a small cloud of dust hovering over the empty driveway.

Many years passed before I saw him again.

Juxtaposed against this memory are others;

As time flew by, I found myself surrounded by children of my own. I was present for each of their births. When my youngest was born, the nurses handed me my newborn son. I moved to a corner where the light wasn't quite so bright, and began to softly whisper to this tiny miracle in my arms. He stirred, as if recognizing the sound of my voice. He struggled a bit, and finally opened both eyes to gaze into mine. This was a moment that will always be etched on my heart. The first conscious act of this child was to force open his eyes to gaze upon his father.

My children are all grown now, and have formed lives of their own. We are separated by a continent, but each of them called today, and we spoke of their struggles and their dreams. I've made many mistakes through the years as a father, but I am fairly confident that all four know the depth of my love for each of them. They continue to bless me with their love. In the end, that's the important part, I think.

Six years ago, my father reappeared in my life. I was sinking fast, and had burnt most of my bridges. He was there for me, sometimes daily, almost always weekly. He walked me through one of the most difficult times of my life. We continue to talk things over a few times each month. New memories are being created, memories that cannot erase the old ones, but do take away some of their sting.

It is never too late to seek to redeem a relationship. Such redemption is the only path I know to healing the wounds that can so easily be passed on from generation to generation.

You, who are on the road,
Must have a code that you can live by.
And so, become yourself,
Because the past is just a good bye.
Teach your children well,
Their father's hell did slowly go by.
And feed them on your dreams,
The one they picks, the one you'll know by.

Don't you ever ask them why, if they told you, you will cry,
So just look at them and sigh and know they love you.

And you, of tender years,
Can't know the fears that your elders grew by.
And so please help them with your youth,
They seek the truth before they can die.
Teach your parents well,
Their children's hell will slowly go by.
And feed them on your dreams,
The one they picks, the one you'll know by.

Don't you ever ask them why, if they told you, you will cry,
So just look at them and sigh and know they love you.......
- CSN&Y

J.