What is a Father?

Happy Father's Day!

"I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty." 2 Corinthians 6:18

When Leslie and I first experienced infertility, Father's Day was a difficult holiday for me. It was painful to be reminded of my own personal barreness, and made it uncomfortable to share in the joy of other's fertility. Waking up on Father's Day Sunday I dreaded going to church, not because anyone looked down on me, but because I was still struggling with the "why" of my infertility.

Our church at the time was filled with loving and graceful people who made even the child-less in our congregation feel included on Father's Day. Not just on Father's Day, but every day of the year they celebrated the role that men play in the life of any congregation, whether they are fathers in the strictest sense of the word or not. I learned a lot from those wonderful people and their attitude toward the body of Christ.

Thinking about being infertile led me to think about what life would be like if I never had children at all. It was a sobering thought. Eventually I learned that we all play the brother, sister, father, mother role with everyone we know. Every one of us, male or female, plays a bigger role in the world and the Body of Christ than we allow ourselvs to imagine. Today I want to simply focus on the male aspect of these roles only because it's Father's Day. Many of these ideas and thoughts apply to women as well.

Father's Day is not simply a celebration of the Father's in our lives and in our midst, but an acknowledgement that males fill a unique roll in our families, churches, and communities. Whether you have children or not, you are probably filling many roles as "father" to several people.

When we mentor another man, we are being a father to them, encouraging them and blessing them to be all that God intends for them to be. This is vitally important because, as many of us know, not all of our biological father's were very good at that, and have left many of us wounded. As male friends, we sometimes step into those roles making a huge difference in another man's life.

My dear friend Mark in CA was a great mentor to me in business. He encouraged me to try things I would never consider doing. My own father was not an entreprenuer and would not have given me the same counsel Mark did. Today, I am less afraid of trying new things, or reinventing myself if the need arises. I am more flexible and resiliant thanks to Mark's genuine encouragement. Encouraging others to stretch and do more than they think they can is what a father does.

When we see another man for all that he is, warts and all, we see the real person God has crafted, and only then can we love for real. Knowing the heart of another man is difficult; men do not easily share. We put up walls, create defenses, set booby traps for those who venture too near to our fragile, needy selves. When we can be the kind of friend that knows another man, sometimes almost as well as he knows himself, we can help to give him clarity when he is struggling.

One day I met with Bill for breakfast. Bill was a mentor and advisor when I owned my first company. I was having a particuarly difficult time financially and emotionally and I was seeking wisdom (and a shoulder to cry on). After sharing my concerns I finally said, "I guess I am just insecure." To my utter surprise Bill threw his head back and let out a huge laugh, loud enough for everyone in the restaurant to hear. I was a bit embarrassed. Finally, after his chuckling subsided enough for him to speak he explained. "Chris, insecure people don't start their own companies," he told me with a twinkle in his eye. "You might be a lot of things, but insecure is not one of them." His words entered my heart and healed something I didn't even know was a wound. Knowing someone well enough to speak the truth in love is what a father does.

When we walk alongside another man in trials, we are being a father to them. We help them to hold their head up high, watch their back, run interference, and provide a safe place to ask God the "whys" that burden their hearts. We are there with a manly hug, a cup of steaming coffee, a day on the links, a helping hand. We give them our time, and that is what fathers do.

After moving to Texas I was laid off from my dream job - CTO at a public technology company. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and I was out for the count, numb, emotionally and spiritually. I wasn't even coherent enough to be mad at God. I just crumbled. But my friend Scott called me one day and told me to get in the shower, put on some clothes, and meet him for a cup of coffee. I picked myself literally off the floor, got ready and met him at a local Starbucks. There he encouraged me, prayed for me, and made sure I didn't stay on the floor. Keeping us going when we want to quit is what fathers do.

When we share in another man's dreams and joy, we validate his holy ambition and encourage the best he has to give. We underestimate the power of our words. What we say has the power to help or to hurt. Sharing another man's sorrows is a good thing; but to share another man's dreams and joys is far more intimate. To know what drives a man, what makes his heart sing, is an intimacy not often found or exposed. The right to share it must be earned.

In the most painful, darkest trial of my life I had three friends that gathered around me to protect me, pray for me, and encourage me. But more importantly, they became the men I shared my hopes and dreams with. We lived life together and we knew each other's deeper treasures - what drives us. We encouraged each other, stuck up for each other, challenged each other. Reguarly we reminded each other that God wanted us to do great things, and generally that mean simply showing up - being there for our families, friends, church, and community. Being there when we were needed, and then not being afraid to pitch in. They encouraged me and taught me how intimacy needs to be earned and that is what a father does.

Don't get me wrong, I had a great Dad, one I loved and respected greatly. He died a little over a year ago, and his homegoing to heaven was sweet. His relationship with God, the best father of all, had changed him for the better over the years. The man that left us was not the man my mother married over 60 years ago.

But Dad was not perfect, and I needed, and still need, other men to fill father roles in my life, even as I do in the lives of others. It is to you, those men who fill the father roles in the lives around you, even if you do not have children yourself, that I celebrate today. I salute you, and pray that you will continue to be there for those in your life.

Before my father passed he was able to go on a spiritual retreat called Tres Dias. I worked that weekend as a table helper. Many times Dad was told that he was blessing the lives of many of the men there. "Why do they keep saying that?" he asked me. "I'm not doing anything." I thought about his question for a minute and then remembered something I had been told many years before. "Dad, you are just showing up." He frowned, not yet understanding me. "Think about how many father's simply never showed up - for anything. Just being here, commiting three whole days to this retreat is something special for many of these men." A smile crossed his face. He finally understood.

More often than we would like to admit, it is not the stuff we do, but the showing up that matters most. Showing up for the game, the party, the graduation, and dinner. Being available for our marriages and our relationships. Being there matters more than we know, and we need to be there for those closest to us. That is real fatherhood. And I think, maybe more than just a little, that God is very, very pleased when we do show up.


"The most important aspect of Christianity is not the work we do, but the relationship we maintain and the surrounding influence and qualities produced by that relationship. That is all God asks us to give our attention to, and it is the one thing that is continually under attack." - Oswald Chambers

Good Friday - A Protestant's Review

Growing up a fundamentalist protestant I never gave much thought to Good Friday. I never really knew anyone who celebrated it much. We didn't. Easter was our holiday, the Ressurection being of much greater importance. Once I saw an Easter program on TV that was done by the Catholic Church. How strange it seemed all the fuss and focus on Jesus' suffering and death. I didn't understand the stations of the Cross, and felt uncomfortable with all the focus on Jesus' suffering.

Then, in 2004, The movie, The Passion of the Christ hit theaters. I heard what others were saying about it - some liked it others thought it too Catholic. I expected it to dwell on the suffering and death of Jesus. I was not dissapointed.

But I was a different person now, sitting in the dark watching Jesus die for me. It was powerful, more powerful than I had expected. Tears streamed down my face as I watched them beat Jesus to a bloody pulp. This was not a sanitized portrayal of the facts. It was brutal and earthy. Perhaps we needed a generation raised on movies like 300 and Lord of the Rings for us to be bold enough to show on the screen the reality of our suffering Savior. This Fundamentalist needed the jolt of reality.

Most Evangelical Christians applauded the movie, but cautiously kept younger children away. My wife and I also did not take our young daughter, but did take our teenage son. But most Fundamentalists pointed out that it was a "Catholic" movie and as such should be avoided. The bloody scenes and violence were excessive. I could sense the Catholic undertones in the movie, but could appreciate that everyone everywhere needed to see what really happened on that Good Friday almost 2,000 years ago. The depth of the valley on Good Friday only accentuates the mountain top of Easter morning!

This furious love of God toward me takes my breath away. I continue to remind myself that Jesus suffered because he loves me. That is almost too much to bear. In response I find myself moving more toward a solemn and respectful observance of this day. I may not participate in Lent, or Ash Wednesday, and other observances, but my mind turns toward that day and the blood shed and the life given. It was shed and given, after all, on my behalf.

I never want to forget that.