In her article, “What Does the Word “Father” Mean to You?” the late Elizabeth Wilkins, former editor of Empowering Parents, applauded fathers and father figures. [1] Near the end of the article she asked, “What is your definition of the word father?” As I began thinking about that, I became overwhelmed by the profound nature of the question. While the article touched on affirming actions (great and small), taken by fathers my mind kept drifting to the impact of absentee fatherhood.
The National Center on Fathering website states, “Some fathering advocates would say that almost every social ill faced by America’s children is related to fatherlessness.” [2] I applaud endeavors designed to correct the carnage left behind by fatherlessness, as it seems that scientific methods and social programs adeptly frame and try to treat the symptoms. When it comes to why I just want more. I am not after new truth, just deeper truth: oak-tree-root-deep, gut-level truth about why the impact of fatherlessness reaches so deeply and extends itself so widely. The following account does not illuminate a social ill (or maybe it does), but in a most benign fashion, this is what impact could look like:
A friend shared with me that one Thanksgiving a young man (he was about 30) prepared to carve a golden honey brown turkey located in the center of a well-dressed table. Homemade biscuits and apple butter, several pecan pies along with the requisite yams, cheese and macaroni, roast, cornbread, potato salad, greens, etc. decorated the outer limits of the table with the turkey commanding the center of attention. Expectant, gazes of four generations of family and friends (his mom as matriarch) energized this young man as he washed his hands, blessed the food and engaged in the necessary preparations for turkey carving. Beaming with pride and an apparent sense of rightfully inherited authority, he poised the long, flexible carving knife just above the center of the bird then apparently his voice melted in a rhythmic decrescendo as he burst into tears, crying out, “My father never taught me how to carve a turkey.”
If you are thinking “he could have googled it”, you might be right but not reconciled and have missed the point entirely.
If we are to trust the multi-dimensional nature of the Hebrew language, (alphanumeric and pictographic symbols coalesce to convey concepts), the scholars have led us into the mind of the Creator as it pertains to His design for fatherhood. During a language study for a preaching engagement, my decades-old interest in healing social ills pushed me to meditate on the issue of anger. The study revealed that the nuance (wind, spirit or breath) of the word anger is virtually the same as the nuance of the word calamity. No surprise there when we understand in English.
In Hebrew, to communicate the ideal nuance of both anger and calamity, the collective sets of symbols reflect a breach in the ideal relationship between a son and his father. When scholars follow the amplification, they tell us that the word anger depicts a son asking the question, “Where is my father?” and further elucidation defines the son’s question as, “Where is the door, where is the path to life?”
We agree that a father is, by definition, a source. In the same way that an abandoned newborn (Ezekiel 16) comes forth coated with afterbirth – needing swaddling – and in the same way that Lazarus came forth swaddled in grave-clothes and needing unwrapping (John 11:43), the purpose of a father is also to direct the course of the life of his offspring. I would argue that by spiritual law, direction is imprinted whether the father is absent or present because direction for the son is contained within the DNA of fatherhood. If you see the wisdom here, then let this understanding engender a greater sense of urgency in the way you approach your family life, your support of educational and rehabilitative programs, your participation in ministries, your relationships. Let our passion for guiding those whom we influence take on a new tone when we understand what the word Father means to God.
The beauty of this discussion is that Scripture is rife with evidence that He (The Father) understands the nature of the problem. Maybe this is why David was rejected by his family, eventually becoming a target for Saul. Maybe this is why Esther was orphaned and raised by her Uncle. Maybe this is why we so often examine the teaching and mentoring relationship between Paul and Timothy. Perhaps this is why Jesus was in some way, a stepson, fathered by other than the husband of his mother. Maybe this is why believers in Christ receive the spirit of adoption. Perhaps this is why the promise of God is that I will never leave you (without protection) or forsake you (emotionally distance myself). Suffice it to remind ourselves that God, who knows the ideal plan for fatherhood and son-ship, clearly has a plan for the plight of the orphan. Let’s talk about that plight in the next blog!
BreadCrumbs for Life!
[1] https://www.empoweringparents.com/blog/definition-of-a-father/
[2] http://www.fathers.com/statistics-and-research/the-consequences-of-fatherlessness/
BreadCrumbs For Life 