by Pastor Michael Salemink
Toni says, “When me and my dad play ‘tickle monster,’ sometimes he laughs so hard, it feels like the house will fall down.” Jeremy says, “When I swing in the park, my dad pushes me so I go up to the sky. I wish he would do it forever because it’s the best thing of anything.” Chad says, “When my bowling ball goes in the gutter and I get mad, my dad says, ‘I will love you even if it goes out the door and into the river.’ That’s really silly, but it’s nice to know anyway.” Ralph says, “When me and my dad walk our dog, I tell him what’s buggin’ me. He listens very good; but I wish he’d come to school with me. Then Jimmy Ryan couldn’t bug me!” Ann-Marie says, “When you have a nightmare and a monster is chasing you but you can’t run fast enough, my dad’s the only one who knows just what to tell you to make it go away.”
Jesse says, “He doesn’t play video games very good. But he does it with me anyway when I feel sad. Then I feel better and he feels sad, because I wipe him out every time.” Bruce says, “Whenever you ask him a question, he can go on and on until you could just die. But there are many good things about him, too.” Steven says, “My dad does things like make the beds and clear the table, but he never, never ever cleans the cat box. He says he comes from royal blood, so he doesn’t have to do litterboxes.” Keith says, “My dad built a tree house for me and my sister. We have a sign that says, ‘Keep Out!’, but he climbs up all time anyway. Sometimes it’s fun, but not that much fun.” Vonetta says, “When I get married, I want to find a man like my dad – only younger.” And Lisbeth says, “When I’m in church sitting next to my dad, it’s one of the best times in life. I wish we could do it every day instead of just on Sundays.”
Real letters from real kids in their own words. They’re not the only Father’s Day letters. There are others also, and they are just as real. “Thanks for watching television instead of watching my games.” “Thanks for talking on that cell phone instead of listening to my problems.” “Thanks for sitting at the computer instead of standing up for me or even just standing up to me.” “Thanks for working so much that you were too tired to play with me.” “Thanks for making the money to give me what I want instead of taking the time to give me what I need.” “Thanks for drinking away your pain and never dealing with mine.” “Thanks for trying to substitute a casual friendship for caring fatherhood.” “Thank you for laughing at my feelings and teasing me about my secrets.” “Thank you for yelling about my mistakes instead of bragging about my accomplishments.” “Thank you for opting for punishment instead of discipline.” “Thank you for never apologizing and never forgiving.” “Thank you for hanging out so much with your friends that you hardly knew who mine were.” “Thank you for letting your wife’s heart die while you were getting that other woman’s body.” Happy Father’s Day.
These letters could have been written by some of us. Some of us here today have never known the joy of fatherhood—either on the giving end or the receiving end. There are men in our congregation who have been unable to have children of their own. There are men in our community who have been unable to know their own children. All of us, even those who have known the joy of fatherhood, have known its pain. Some of us had abusive fathers; some of us had absent or distant fathers. Some of us still have such fathers. Some fathers have failed us, failed greatly, failed consistently, hurtfully failed us. Father’s Day is about these things too, the unhappy things; maybe for you, maybe for someone close to you, this morning Father’s Day is all about the unhappy.
Then again, these letters could have been written to some of us. They could have been written by our children, whether we are mothers or fathers. On occasion we have all been too busy, haven’t we? Sometimes we have been too angry. Often we have been too picky, too pushy, too selfish, too childish, too lenient, or too lazy. And the same could be said of us as children. These are the letters that could have been written by our parents. They very well may be some of the things some of our fathers would have to say about some of us. Distant, disobedient, absent, abusive, dismissive, demanding, arguing—“I’m sorry” is at least as appropriate on Father’s Day as “Thank you.” We haven’t always exactly put the joy in fatherhood; in fact, at times we have deliberately and successfully taken the joy right out of it.
How much more also have we disappointed, hurt, and failed the heavenly Father. How much more distant have we been to God’s call, how much more disobedient to His commands, how much more absent from His family and His house, how much more abusive of His name and His gifts, how much more dismissive of His warnings, how much more demanding of His patience, how much more arguing toward His will are we than even toward our natural parents. That’s just this week, isn’t it? Our frustrating and failing our Father is so deep, so grave, that it isn’t only about our conduct anymore or even a character trait; with God, it’s a condition. We aren’t worthy to be called His children; rather we are rightfully known as sinners—worse than failures, actively being God’s enemies. We, who so desperately need fathers, good fathers, we have foiled the best efforts of those who were our fathers and made it nearly impossible for anyone to fulfill that function.
Except the Trinity. God is Trinity. This is good news. This is the Gospel for us. The Trinity means Christianity is the religion of fatherhood: Christian disciples believe and live in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. The Trinity means God is eternally Father. The Trinity means God is unconditionally Father. The Trinity means God’s fatherhood is not dependent upon our sonship. The Trinity means God is Father notwithstanding our failure as children, in spite of our failure to be good children. The Trinity means God is Father not because He is Father to us but because He is Father in Himself. God is Father because He is also Son and Holy Spirit even without us. The Trinity means God is always perfectly Father. He does the things a Father must, not because we have earned it or deserve it or are worthy of it, but because He can’t help it. The Holy Spirit has to extend eternal fatherhood and perfect sonship to us, because if He didn’t, He wouldn’t be God, He wouldn’t be Trinity. And whatever else God is, He is Trinity; this is the first and foundational article of the distinctly Christian faith. If we know anything about God, we know He is Trinity.
Because He is Trinity, God is Father; because God is Father, He loves us perfectly, eternally, unconditionally; because He loves us, God, the Trinity, the Father, He gave His Son to save us from our failure at fatherhood and sonship, our failures as parents and children. By the incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, who is the Son of God in person, in position and privilege and power, by this God has made Himself the Father of all failures. The Lord of the universe was born to be the servant of His subjects, slave to their sins and their sorrows. The Eternal One ended up a mortal man; the Creator became a sweaty, snotty, sniveling creature. The Prince of Peace was victim of violence, the King worshiped by the bowed heads of heaven’s angels was treated as criminal by the brutal hands of the devil’s own agents, and He whose word produced the starry skies and the savage seas became too weak to protect Himself. The Perfect One is the icon of pain, and His life is death’s trophy. Jesus Christ suffered, was crucified, died, and was buried, and in this way God was able to make room in the Trinity,; He has given a place in the family of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit to failures, to ones such as us, who are in sin and under the curse of death.
Jesus died in our place so that we may live in His. His Father is the Father we need even though we have not been the children He wants us to be this. However sinful, whoever is baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, this is the soul who is received as a citizen of the Lord’s kingdom, as a member of His family, and as an heir of heaven, just like a little child lifted and carried in the blessing arms of the Savior. He who has thus fathered us also feeds us, for we eat and drink nothing less than the body and blood of His Christ, the heart of fatherhood, the life of sonship; and He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us, how will He not also graciously give us all things? He protects us from harm and danger, from loss and need, by the same power that created the heavens and the earth, the things visible and invisible, necessities and luxuries, and us. He delivers us from death and the devil, from evil and hell, by the same love and power that led Him, the same commitment that compelled Him to raise Jesus from the dead. He provides life and health, family and shelter, work and food, forgiveness and faith, ability and acceptance to us even though we do not ask or appreciate. All that He expects of us is that we leave our empty tomb and take the empty throne on His right hand at the banqueting table in the wedding supper of the Lamb, which He Himself has already called and empowered us to do.
It is this Word, it is this grace, it is this faith, it is this Jesus, it is this Trinity, it is this gift of self and sacrifice and sonship and fatherhood that makes us children, perfect, eternal, unconditional children of God. We are set free from ourselves and our failure to be the children of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. And it is only this that allows and empowers us to be good fathers and sons, parents and children to each other. The more we receive the Trinity as our own, as our life and hope, the more we will reflect His love, honor, respect, obedience, guarding and giving to our daughters, sons, mothers, and fathers, until every single “I’m sorry” is swallowed up in “Thank you.” Happy Father’s Day. Amen.