Today we celebrate fathers and the ways in which they have been able to share the love of God with us and with the world. Our readings today speak about Wisdom and Truth. From the book of Proverbs, we hear these words, “Does Wisdom not call, Does Understanding not lift up her voice?” And then we are reminded that the gift of wisdom has been there since the beginning of time, ““The Lord created me as the firstborn of his ways, before the oldest of his works. 23 I was established in the earliest times, at the beginning, before the earth.” Jesus then echoes these thoughts in the passage from John, “But when the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.” Perhaps you had a wise father or grandfather, perhaps telling the truth was taught to you by your own father. My own Dad loved to quote Mark Twain who said something like, “when I was 16, I couldn’t believe how dumb my father was but once I reached the age of 20, I couldn’t believe how much the old man had learned.” So many fathers yearn to pass on their hard earned wisdom to their children, whether teaching them how to change a tire or to be a person of decency and integrity in the world. So it is with God, the father. Throughout all of the Old and New Testament, our God is seeking to tell us what is right and wrong, how to live with love and compassion and how to be in a just community. Jesus himself was sent to repeat that same message again and again and again through his words and his life. Let us pray, O Holy God of Wisdom and truth, open our hearts and minds to your divine truth. Help us live with an understanding of what we have been taught from our own fathers and through the words of your Son so that we may join you in helping create Your Kin’dom here on earth. Amen.
For those of you who are fathers and grandfathers, godfathers and other important male role models in others’ lives, we indeed celebrate you this morning. Being a parent is an incredible yet challenging role and yet, it is perhaps the greatest influence you may have on the next generation. I pray too that most of us carry some good memories of our own fathers, of ways in which they taught us about faith and showing up for others, about telling the truth and treating others with dignity and with love. My own father died 14 years ago and despite his own challenging childhood with a father who was no role model, from what little I know, my Dad endeavored to show up for all of us and share his love and tender side whenever he could. He was a very intelligent, hard-working man who had achieved so much given his humble origins as the child of immigrants. He was home every night for dinner, was present at all our important life events, always with a camera, always ready to cheer us on, sons and daughters, in all the special moments. He was not perfect, no one is, but he believed in each of us and wanted the very best for us.
Sadly, in recent decades, modern culture and tv have not been kind to fathers. They are either made to look stupid or silly or out of touch, but as I watch the next generation of some of the young men I know who are sharing in so much more of the parenting and home responsibilities, I do feel hope, at least on some days. The National Center for Fathering conducts Father of the Year Essay Contests in partnership with local schools and sponsoring organizations. One year, the contests were held and altogether, over 100,000 school children submitted essays on the topic, “What my Father Means to Me.” Here is a sampling of essays from past contests: A first grader writes, “My dad is the best dad ever. I would kiss a pig for him.”
Another first grader writes, “My dad is a Frito‑Lay man. That is an important job because Frito‑Lay means chips, which is food. That is so important because you could not live without food.”
A third grader writes, “The dad in my life isn’t really my dad. He’s my Grandpa. But he’s been like a dad to me since before I was born . . . I hope that as I get older Grandpa will teach me all the stuff he knows about wood, and first‑aid, and everything else he knows about. My Grandpa isn’t my father, but I wouldn’t trade him for all the dads in the world.”
A fourth grader writes, “Sometimes as a joke I’ll put my stinky socks in his briefcase, so at work the next day he will think of me! He’s always at the concerts and plays that I’m in, even though he lives about an hour away.” A fifth grade girl writes, “. . . You know what else my dad does? He braids my hair. I’m the only girl I know whose dad braids her hair. I think that’s a perfect dad. He already is the world’s greatest dad to me. I just wanted everyone to know that.”
A sixth grader writes, “One time I had an assembly and I was a soloist and my dad was in the first row and after my song I smiled at my dad and my dad smiled back and started crying. That was the best thing I ever saw.” (1)
I never knew either of my grandfathers who had died before I was born. However, I had two fine uncles, one of whom is still living. Both of them were men of great integrity, decency, kindness and faith. The author Rachel Naomi Remen shared a lovely story called, An Unusual Gift From My Grandfather. She writes,
“Often, when he came to visit, my grandfather would bring me a present. These were never the sorts of things that other people brought, dolls and books and stuffed animals. My dolls and stuffed animals have been gone for more than half a century, but many of my grandfather’s gifts are with me still.
Once he brought me a little paper cup. I looked inside it expecting something special. It was full of dirt. I was not allowed to play with dirt. Disappointed, I told him this. He smiled at me fondly. Turning, he picked up the little teapot from my dolls’ tea set and took me to the kitchen where he filled it with water. Back in the nursery, he put the little cup on the windowsill and handed me the teapot. “If you promise to put some water in the cup every day, something may happen,” he told me.
At the time, I was four years old and my nursery was on the sixth floor of an apartment building in Manhattan. This whole thing made no sense to me at all. I looked at him dubiously. He nodded with encouragement. “Every day, Neshume-le,” he told me.
And so I promised. At first, curious to see what would happen, I did not mind doing this. But as the days went by and nothing changed, it got harder and harder to remember to put water in the cup. After a week, I asked my grandfather if it was time to stop yet. Shaking his head no, he said, “Every day, Neshume-le.” The second week was even harder, and I became resentful of my promise to put water in the cup. When my grandfather came again, I tried to give it back to him but he refused to take it, saying simply, “Every day, Neshume-le.” By the third week, I began to forget to put water in the cup. Often I would remember only after I had been put to bed and would have to get out of bed and water it in the dark. But I did not miss a single day. And one morning, there were two little green leaves that had not been there the night before.
I was completely astonished. Day by day they got bigger. I could not wait to tell my grandfather, certain that he would be as surprised as I was. But of course, he was not. Carefully he explained to me that life is everywhere, hidden in the most ordinary and unlikely places. I was delighted. “And all it needs is water, Grandpa?” I asked him. Gently he touched me on the top of my head. “No, Neshume-le,” he said. “All it needs is your faithfulness.”
This was perhaps my first lesson in the power of service, but I did not understand it in this way then. My grandfather would not have used these words. He would have said that we need to remember to bless the life around us and the life within us. He would have said when we remember we can bless life, we can repair the world. “
I hope that your own fathers imparted some wisdom to you as you were growing up and I truly hope that you felt loved and accepted. I believe that the God of Wisdom and truth continues to call out to us and to all the world every day, whispering, singing, and screaming in the loudest of voices, reminding us of his essential message of love, of truth, of decency, of justice, of peace. When I was a child and some of us kids would get into an argument, I recall my parents saying, ‘we didn’t bring you into this world to fight with one another.” I certainly believe we were given the gift of life and with that gift is the invitation to bless one another and bless this broken, beautiful world.