Today is Fathers' Day, and while it lacks much of the hoopla attributed to Mothers' Day,
it certainly bears mentioning that both men and women have the potential to be important positive influences as
parents in the lives of their children. Just as in the case of Mothers' Day however, our denomination has seen
fit to emphasize the "God centered" nature of such successful parenting, and wherever it can be seen,
to honor it in the celebration of the Christian home.
Abuses of such power are easy to spot and all too often fill the evening news. It would seem that in the last twenty-five
years spotlighting such abuse has become common, and that is a good thing. Success stories by contrast are generally
carried quietly in the hearts of those who experienced them, and rightly treasured. We seem to have gotten away
from a balance in hearing about both. Good and meaningful relationships with parents leave their marks just as
clearly as negative ones do, but one has only to look into the eyes of any individual as they reflect back silently
on their own experiences with their family of origin to know which way that experience went. Putting a voice to
it simply releases the power of the experience for others.
So we begin today with the power of "names," the sounds we give to describe experience. Words like "mother"
and "father" clearly carry with them all kinds of connotations whether they are realized or not. The
Bible portrays those roles with all the success and failure, joy and agony that parents and children continue to
encounter today. The stories of the patriarchs beginning with Abram and Sarai, including the story of the long
anticipated birth of their son which we read this morning are all tales of struggle and dysfunction. These are
hardly successful parental figures to our understanding, but they are authority figures in the history of the early
church, …our "parents" if you will in the faith.
As one who is not a parent it is always risky making comments about the way it should be done, but I want to start
by saying I don't think anyone believes it is an easy job. However, when observing particularly unruly children
with very frustrated parents (as I had the opportunity to do yesterday) in a restaurant or grocery store I do often
marvel at the way some human beings must deal with the subject of "hope." I imagine them thinking…"I
hope they grow up," "I hope no one is hearing or seeing this," "I hope I live through it,"
"I hope they learn something from this experience."
What are the things we hope to pass on to the next generation? How does one measure whether that has been accomplished
successfully? And what is so unique about the person who gives you life that should make them also responsible
to be the one who teaches those lessons?
One popular author on child development has suggested this list as an indicator of some of the most important life
lessons: Suggesting that when we know these things…we have learned.
No matter what happens, how bad it seems today, to know that life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.
That you can tell a great deal about a person by the way he/she handles three things: a rainy day, lost luggage,
and tangled Christmas tree lights.
That, regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.
That making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life".
That life does sometimes gives you a second chance, and that you shouldn't go through it with a catcher's mitt
on both hands, because every once in a while at least, you need to be able to throw something back.
That if you pursue happiness, it will elude you, but, if you focus on your family, your friends, the needs of others,
your work and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you.
That whenever you decide something with an open heart, you will usually make the right decision.
That even when you have pains, you don't have to be one.
That every day, you should reach out and touch someone. People love that human touch - holding hands, a warm hug,
or just a friendly pat on the back.
That you still have a lot to learn, and always will until the day you die.
That people will forget what you said . . . people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you
made them feel.
That there is someone bigger than all of us, with more authority than we will ever have, and a divine plan for
this sometimes seemingly crazy world that has a wonderful purpose of which we can be a part, if only we can learn
to trust it.
Those were actually some of the same life lessons that Jesus was suggesting in his commissioning of the original
twelve disciples in our Gospel lesson this morning. That not so simple act of challenging a group of people to
leave a former way of life and pursue an uncertain career path if nothing else shows that they had given him some
degree of "parental authority" in their lives. The picture he painted was not exactly a wonderful job
description, yet something made them trust him enough to want to do it.
Where does our authority come from? Clearly it is more than a bond of blood or adoption…To whom do we grant authority?…and
how do we grant it?
As those who have been "authorized" to bear the "name" of Christ today, to be called "the
Church" we have been instructed as to how we are to carry out our mission of preaching, teaching and healing.
If one believes the gospels as the "word of God", it would seem clear that Jesus granted us "authority"
along with the knowledge that we are being sent out as sheep among wolves. Yet that same "authority"
tells us we are not to be stupid, are not to lose who we are in Christ, and are not to lose our message. We are
to act it out, and teach it by the example of forgiveness. We are to expect to be mistreated, but we are to know
that God is with us and that we have the tools of the spirit to withstand the assaults of the world. And finally,
we are to accept the fact that not everyone will welcome the gospel we bring or be ready to receive it, but to
see all such seeming rejections and failures as planting the seed and that the next one to come may well be meant
to harvest.
What does accepting that kind of authority do for an individual? It keeps them from becoming bitter. That's why
"blessing those who persecute you" is a discipline, and why the author of Palm 116 which we used as our
call to worship could sing a true "song of deliverance," for when one is released from the potential
for bitterness they are free indeed!
All the music of the spheres, that centers around the worship of God recognizes this one truth…that power belongs
to God, and that those who want to be successful in this life need to come to an understanding of that great truth.
And thus we end every recitation of the Lord's Prayer with the words "Thine is the power and the glory forever,"
conscious of the fact that every moment of our being is in the hands of God. When we name the true power in our
lives we become the Church we were meant to be. May God grant us the ability and courage to do so!
|