Dear Friends,
I love watching young children interacting with their parents. It is often filled with loving, tender moments. Sadly, we do not remember those first few years of life. Like everyone else, my memories are vague and fragmentary, faded snapshots that are probably half-invented, based on things others told me and the mind’s desire to fill in the blanks.
Psychologists have many theories as to why we do not have memories from those early years, but whatever the reason, it is sad that we do not remember such loving times. On occasion, I will hear a young man watching his own father now playing with his son, the grandchild, say something like, “my Dad has changed so much now as a grandfather, he never played with me like that when I was young.” My guess is that he did but the son simply does not remember. We do remember how are parents are with us after we reach the age of seven – at a time when we are more likely to end up being disciplined. All those hours spent cuddling in the rocking chair are lost in the childhood haze.
Jesus frequently uses the image of a father to describe God and God’s relationship with us. That should be a beautiful image. The problem is that, although I am right in picturing God as a father, the actual image that exists in my head portrays not a good, heavenly father, nor even a good earthly father, but an exaggerated version of a male who is demanding obedience, who wants a quiet house when he comes home from work. What we call to mind of “fathers” may hinder our relationship with God.
Perhaps we should observe fathers spending time with their small children to begin to get a better idea of what Jesus meant when he spoke of his Father’s love for us. Or if you have your own small children, think about a time when you have come home from a trip or when you have been gone at work all day. Picture the look of joy that breaks forth on your children’s faces, the shrieks of delight as they run toward you with arms spread wide, sometimes knocking you over with the force of their affection. I would imagine that there are few things in life that are as precious as lifting up your children in your arms and burying your face into their warm skin.
Imagine God doing that to you. And not just when you are young. God’s love for you is immense at every age of your life. Remember the story Jesus told of the prodigal son? The father, when he saw his son returning, “while [the son] was yet at a distance,” ran out to meet him and showered him with love and an embrace. He did not wait to hear the son admit that he had been wrong, he did not wait to see the son grovel and beg for forgiveness–he rejoiced at the repentance of his child.
This weekend, we celebrate our fathers and men who have served as father figures in our lives, living and deceased. We honor them for the dedicated love they offered to us when we were young and as we grew older. We recall the place of fathers in our lives and the guidance they offered. We acknowledge their mistakes and limitations, their presence and absence. We value how they helped us ride that bike and bandaged our skinned knees. From earliest diaper changes, to making lunches, to walking brides down the aisle . . . our fathers have been integrally involved in our lives. This weekend we say thank you. Thank you, for in some small way you gave us an image of how greatly we are loved by our God. Thanks. Amen to dads.
Peace,
Fr. Damian