Father's Day

Today in churches across the land there will no doubt be sermons preached with the theme "father". It is common for pastors to draw on various holidays for inspiration, especially when these holidays allow one to draw comparisons and contrasts between a role played by man, and the corresponding divine role played by God. Many of these sermons will highlight the relative fragility of the human "father", the incompleteness of his presence, the awkwardness of his expressed love, etc. Other sermons will remark on the absent father, the father who fled or otherwise passed on. Still others might approach the topic with nostalgia, reminiscing of fatherhood during a bygone era. Some preachers may even call attention to the challenges of the new daddy daycare phenomenon sweeping younger generations, quickly becoming the new norm in some societies (one only needs to think of Sweden and the public scorn shown to fathers who choose to stay at work rather than take a year off to help raise children!). All of this will be only one side of the homiletic coin. Many (but not all), will go on to contrast these very fragile, but generally well-meaning human fathers with "our Father in heaven". Here we have a prototype, a Platonic form, the ideal Father. When our earthly father fails us (for fail us he must, we're told), the heavenly Father is there to pick us up, to show us grace, to hear our heartfelt cries. In this way human fathers are given an example, and each one of us assured intimacy with a Father-figure par exellence. Here is the Father we all long for and desire, sans the awkward human barriers to authentic human affection.

I will not comment here on a feminist critique of God-as-Father, as interesting and pertinent as this critique happens to be. I will simply speak from experience. I've been lucky enough to have a human father who puts any heavenly version to shame. In fact, even if a heavenly version were to present himself claiming to be my Father, I would greet him with a yawn and ask him to leave. Or perhaps I would entertain him and ask where he's been all this time if he is my Father. I would like to know how he is any different than so many human fathers who abandon their children for years, returning after various adventures to try and insert themselves back into the lives of their children. "I was with you in spirit" he might say. At this I would press him for a clear definition of "being with" someone (let alone what he means by "spirit"!). If one's presence is merely an idea or feeling, then it is my idea or feeling, and as such what you're really saying is that I had myself. Besides, many comforting ideas or thoughts could be created to suit this purpose. I would be forced to point out that the "relationship" has been rather one-sided all these years, and that in the end one couldn't speak of a proper "relationship" at all, the very idea suggesting mutuality and companionship. I would recommend to him that rather than be referred to as "Father", he change his name simply to "God" without using any other misleading nouns or descriptors ("God" is sufficiently ambiguous to reflect the lived experience). This silly nonsense leading back to Jesus' use of "abba", or "daddy" must really stop (other rabbis and prophets may have used similar expressions, but of course Jesus' relationship to the Father is portrayed uniquely by various writers). It's emphasis in many churches seems to reflect a need for fathering, rather than any actual experience of Father. It reflects a hope/desire, rather than any action by heavenly Father. This is seen in the common rebuttal made by some Christians that if one really desires the Father he will make himself known: "draw near to him and he will draw near to you". If one hasn't experienced the presence of the Father it is only because one hasn't had faith enough, desired it truly, recognized it even. For my part I know that my human father, knowing that his child earnestly desired to be with him, would stop at nothing to be present. Not only this, even if his child didn't want to be with him, he would still make every effort to show his availability, his wish to be present (and this in personal terms). Rightly so! For some people throughout history it is the very absence and impotence of the heavenly Father that has caused such consternation. Where was he when....? The answers are hardly satisfying.

Personally, my earthly father is good enough. He's not perfect, but then again, he could teach the heavenly version a thing or two...