Fathers Are The Standard

And he arose and came to his father. But while he was yet at a distance, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.

Luke 15:20

In my experience, people want their fathers to be proud of them.

Fathers are the standard. Fathers are our first benchmark for what constitutes excellence. Fathers are traditionally the source of discipline in the household, as the Book of Proverbs reminds us. Fathers are presumed to set the example, and to point out the good path to their children.

It is only natural that we should desire the approval of our fathers. When we don't get that approval, that's not a good feeling.

This is a more difficult topic for me than most, as I am more than a little conflicted where my father is concerned. This one is personal.

My father was in most regards a good man. He was smart, he was practical, and he was not afraid of hard work to accomplish what he wanted—and he was an accomplished man.

I tend to believe there is more than a little of him in me, and therein lies the problem.

I am not being arrogant to say that I am smart. To quote iconic St Louis Cardinal pitching great Dizzy Dean, “if you can do it, it ain't bragging!”

My willingness to work hard is evidenced by how I have carved out various career paths for myself.

Whether or not I am practical is a question whose answer varies day to day!

But my father was also a hypocrite who made no secret of which of his sons he favored—and it was not me. Not being more like him left me perpetually on the outside looking in.

As a young man, I chose to walk away from him. I turned my back on my father and built my life without him.

I have built a successful and accomplished life, overall. I have been respected in my chosen professions. I have prospered. I have done well without any help from him.

After being very nearly killed in a car accident, I made the decision to reach out to my father and reconnect. At first he was glad to hear from me, but he also subtly made it clear that I might be his son, but whether I was family was open to debate. Far from the warm embrace the Prodigal Son’s father had for him, my father kept me very much at arm’s length.

What was not open to debate was that he had no regard whatsoever for my career choices or my professional successes. My choices had not been the choices he wanted me to make, and so were of no great significance to him. I remained a disappointment to him, not because I had not done well, but because I had not done as he wished.

At least, that was the gossip my sister-in-law's sister delighted in sharing, gossip which he did not deny.

So I walked away again. My father would never be proud of my accomplishments, but not because I am unaccomplished. My father would never be proud of me because my accomplishments did not matter to him. With no reason to remain, I left. I did not speak to my father again, and I do not regret that choice.

I never mattered to him, but it is impossible for him not to matter to me. Because he is me, in more than a few ways.

My father lives in me. From him I learned to think logically and practically in every situation. From him I get the stubborn streak that has carried me through a few rough patches. From him I learned that raising children into adults was serious work that needed to be done seriously.

That is the paradox of my father. There were never any joyous reunions as the Prodigal Son had with his father, but I cannot deny that my father took being a father seriously. He gave what was in him to give.

When I took on the challenge of raising my ex-wife's son's, I can honestly say that I gave what was in me to give, because that was what I had learned from my father.

When I am called to account for my life, I can point to my ex-wife's sons and honestly say “this much good I have done.” I can do that because of my father.

On this Father's Day, what shall I say of him? I can't speak smilingly of him, because my thoughts of him are not smiling thoughts.

Yet as a father, and as a man, he remains very much the standard. He is the benchmark in my life for both fatherly success and fatherly failure.

This is to me the nature of fathers and fatherhood. Fathers are men, neither more nor less. As men, fathers take on the ginormous challenge of raising children into adults. That is no easy challenge, and it is one at which we often both succeed and fail.

Fathers are men, and as men we are imperfect. Unlike our Heavenly Father who is perfect, we make mistakes.

As a stepfather there were times I was angry when I should have been calm. There were times I was harsh when I should have been gentle. Would my father have done any better? Frankly, I doubt it. I also doubt that he would have done any worse.

What shall I say of my father? He was a man, neither more nor less. Through his successes and his failures he did much to shape the man I am today, for better or worse. While I am not able to genuinely celebrate him, I do honor him, and I do respect him. And I pray I am not too much the hypocrite in saying so.

This Father's Day I have only a simple prayer. I pray that Fathers everywhere will be strengthened and lifted up, that the sons and daughters given into their care may prosper. I pray that their failures will not overcome their successes, that their sons and daughters will grow into good men and good women.I pray that they will be honored and celebrated for all that they do, for what they do is hard.

Fathers are men, neither more nor less. As men we are imperfect. Unlike our Heavenly Father who is perfect, we make mistakes.

Yet through both success and failure, fathers shape the next generation. In both victory and defeat, fathers remain our first and most relevant standard for excellence in all that we do.

To all the fathers, Happy Father's Day.