This past week, I had the landmark opportunity to go golfing with my
great nephew, Devin, for the very first time. He’s just finishing
first grade and has gone golfing with his father and mother, I would
surmise, on many occasions. Devin can hit a straight ball perhaps
fifty yards…which isn’t bad at all for a seven year old. I was
impressed.
But, like most young people, Devin doesn’t pay much attention to
golf etiquette. Based solely upon our interactions, it’s not that
Devin hasn’t been told or reminded. No, I suspect, all those
details are of relative insignificance to captivate the attention of
a youngster of Devin’s age. After all, there are all those other
things captivating the attention of seven year olds. For example,
Devin thinks he should always putt first and no one should putt
until Devin holes his ball. Devin also doesn’t seem to recall that
he should hold his putter steady or ground it while others are
putting. Instead, Devin likes to play with his putter, as if he’s
Luke Skywalker wielding a laser beam and dancing around like he’s
about to take on Darth Vader…which, on the green, can prove to be
rather distracting.
Devin’s Uncle Brenden thinks all of that is pretty easy to deal
with. His approach? “Reiterate the lesson. Reiterate the lesson
again. Reiterate the lesson a third time. Then, repeat if
necessary.” At least last week, that didn’t seem to work and Uncle
Brenden finally capitulated. “Ignore. Ignore. And
ignore again. Then, get frustrated.”
What does seem to work is when Devin asks Uncle Rich for his score
at the end of each hole. Each time Devein violates golf etiquette,
Uncle Rich adds a penalty stroke to Devin’s score and tells him so.
For example, on the sixth hole Devin lost a par because he jumped
ahead of his Uncle Brenden to putt his ball. I knew Devin “got
it” on the seventh green. How? Devin was watching for Uncle Rich’s
hand to signal “stop” or “go” before putting.
However, there was one lesson that didn’t work quite so well.
Since Devin and I were sharing a golf cart, I believed it was my
responsibility to make sure Devin wouldn’t get hurt. So, as we
whisked off from the first tee, I said, “Devin, don’t get out of the
car until it stops. If you jump out, you could break your ankle and
end up in a cast for six weeks. It’d be just like your brother,
Jack, when tripped while running through the house and broke his
wrist.”
I kept reiterating that lesson through first six holes. But, I
forgot to reiterate it after we whisked off from the seventh tee.
And, sure enough, when we arrived on the fairway where Devin’s ball
had landed—but
before the cart stopped—Devin
jumped out, spun around, and fell down to the ground hitting himself
in the forehead with his club. Thank goodness, Devin was fine. He
jumped up, looked at me sheepishly, and then lined up, took his
usual three practice swings, and hit a pretty decent shot.
When Devin got back into the cart, I looked him straight in the eyes
and asked him very slowly in a low and quiet voice: “How many more
times do I have to tell you, Devin, ‘never to step out of the cart
until it stops’?”
“Never again, Uncle Rich,” Devin said.
And that’s the end of the story…at least for this week. Devin
waited to get out of the cart for each and every shot for the next
eleven holes.
In today’s gospel, Jesus speaks about a landowner who scattered
seeds at random and allowed them to sprout. Eventually, those
spouts matured into crops that yielded “good fruit.” In our
climate, it’s getting to be that time when we’ll be able to harvest
the first fruits we scattered weeks back as tomato seeds. But, as
is generally known, if we left those seeds and seedlings to grow
untended, the vines will grow along the ground and produce inferior,
oftentimes diseased fruit. If, however, we fasten the vine to a
stake and it is forced to grow upright, the tomato plant that
develops is more likely to produce healthy fruit.
Perhaps—like Devin—those vines don’t much like being tied to a stake
at first. But, what those vines don’t know is that unless they are
tied to a stake and, as they continue growing and are continuously
re-affixed to the stake, those vines will never fulfill the purpose
for which God created them: to yield lots of good fruit.
So, what’s
the “take away” for Father’s Day?
The metaphor of the vine and the tomatoes implies that it takes a
“strong man” to perform this service, one who links God’s
intention—why God created the seed in the first place—with its
fulfillment—the fruit that God intended to provide nourishment for
others. In this context, this metaphor also assumes that this
strong man is focused on the right goal, understands God’s plan,
listens to the Holy Spirit, pursues holiness, acknowledges one’s
failures and imperfections, makes a difference in the world by
fulfilling one’s purpose… and, in light of Father’s Day…fastens and
re-fastens his children to the stake, forcing them to grow upright
so they will be more likely to produce lots of healthy fruit.
Now, that image—“fastening his children to the stake”—might sound
rather harsh and uncaring in these days when parents are being told
to be their children’s “best friends.” But, it is an image most
fathers who seek to be a “strong man” in the lives of their children
understand quite well because this strength—as I’m describing it
here—has more to do with a father’s spiritual depth than it does his
physical prowess. The former—spiritual depth—makes it possible for
a strong man to teach life’s important lessons that adhere their
children to the stake while the latter—physical prowess—also teaches
important lessons but does so through compulsion. Yes, sometimes
physical prowess is absolutely needed to get that vine to bend and
remain affixed to the stake. But, these lessons oftentimes aren’t
lasting in their impact, and the result is that they yield bad
fruit. And, yes—like golf—spiritual depth takes a whole lot of
practice, persistence, and patience, as one must continuously work
with the vine and to adjust the lessons given each child’s age,
maturity, and responsiveness. But, these seem to be the life’s
lessons that tend to “stick” and end up being taught to this man’s
grandchildren.
We all know that biologically conceiving a child doesn’t turn a man
into a father. Yet, today, 40% of all children born in the United
States don’t have a father because these “bio dads” have abandoned
their children. We all also know that fulfilling the prescriptions
of civil law also doesn’t turn a man into a father. For example,
paying child support doesn’t fill the void in a fatherless home. In
fact, the Centers for Disease Control reports that children growing
up in fatherless homes today are 2000% (that’s 20 times) more likely
to demonstrate behavior disorders. Those children are also 900%
(that’s 9 times) more likely to drop out of high schools. Worse
yet, children growing up in fatherless homes today are 1000% (that’s
10 times) more likely to be admitted to a center for the treatment
of substance abuse.
It’s that spiritual depth which is absolutely irreplaceable in every
child’s life and provides us insight into the essential role a
father play’s in the life of each of his children. Not just
physically and legally, but what many fathers tend to overlook today
in our highly secular, consumer society, namely, their essential
spiritual role.
Consider these statistics to grasp how important a father’s
spiritual depth is.
The Federal Statistical Office of the Swiss Confederation found that
when both parents attend church regularly, 32.8% of their children
regularly attend church as adults. That’s a rather depressing
statistic, isn’t it? Two thirds of their children don’t regularly
attend church as adults. However, in cases where the mother
attended church regularly, but the father didn’t, only 3.4% of
children attended church regularly as adults. That’s a drop of
27.6%. When the father attends church regularly but the mother
attends church irregularly, 37.7% of children regularly attend
church as adults, 4.9% more than if both parents attend church
regularly. But, if the father attends church regularly and the
mother doesn’t practice her faith (if any), 44.2% of children
regularly attend church as adults. That’s a whopping 11.4% more
than if both parents attend church regularly. That’s what’s called
a “statistically significant”—meaning “beyond chance”—finding.
None of this is meant to belittle or demean the mother’s essential
role in shaping the spiritual development of their children. But,
if the Swiss are typical of the rest of humanity, a father’s
spiritual depth as this is reflected in his religious practice, he’s
absolutely critical in shaping the spiritual depth and religious
practice of his children.
Knowledge of God’s fatherhood should provide fathers today an anchor
to understand their essential spiritual role in the lives of their
children. But, God’s fatherhood is much-maligned today, called by
many a “remnant of a patriarchal past.” What’s needed, instead, we
are told, is “gender equality” or even, the expansion of the number
of genders to reflect God’s diversity.
Interestingly, as these notions have come to exercise influence
within society, God’s children think they need God less. They also
attend church less and, as a result, empty churches are being
shuttered and closed. God’s spiritual depth isn’t appreciated and
his lessons go unheeded. Arguably, many people today would like to
have God placed in an adult retirement village, much like an
embarrassing old parent.
Disparaging fatherhood isn’t a sign that something is wrong with
fatherhood. Instead, it’s a sign that the way fatherhood is being
lived out in society today isn’t filling the void the children of
these fathers are experiencing.
But, given this context, should it be surprising that so many “bio
dads” and “dads who merely pay the bills on time” don’t understand
their spiritual responsibilities to their children?
Each child’s need for a strong father—ultimately, each child’s need
for God—is intrinsic to human nature.
So, Dads, do you want to offer your children from your spiritual
depth?
Begin by starting to nurture and nourish your own spiritual depth,
because it’s impossible to give to others—and especially, your
children—what you don’t possess yourself.
As the Swiss study indicated, strong fathers who provide for the
spiritual needs of their children lead by example. As a Catholic,
this requires making a diligent and purposeful effort to impart a
basic knowledge of the Catholic faith and teaching your children how
you live out your faith in your daily life. This isn’t the stuff of
rocket science, but of possessing a conscious awareness of God’s
will for you as a father, of possessing an abiding love for God, and
possessing at least a basic knowledge of the Catholic faith and its
practice coupled with a desire to learn more.
That includes: taking your children to Mass each week, leading your
children in prayer at meals and before bed, and having your children
participate with you each week in some spiritual or corporal work of
mercy. Oh, and be sure to genuflect before taking your seat in the
pews. This little act of reverence teaches your children that
you worship a power that is mightier than their all-powerful Dad.
Then, for their Confirmation, you might give each of your children a
Bible and a copy of the Catechism of the Catholic Church that you’ve
inscribed with a personal, loving and spiritual note. (Of course,
this assumes that reading the Bible and studying the Catechism are
part of your weekly life.) You can also model your faith in God’s
love and mercy by going to Confession so your children see that you
“walk the walk.” And, when your children leave for college, be sure
to email them frequent notes inquiring into their spiritual lives
and practice of the faith.
These simple spiritual acts are how, as a strong father, you fasten
your children to the stake so that they will mature and bear good
fruit, well-prepared to deal with all of the forces present in
today’s society that are seeking to get them not to practice their
faith. God has entrusted you with your children in these days...not
yesterday and not tomorrow. Your mission is to help them grow and
become spiritually strong today.
One of the greatest compliments I hear children make when speaking
of their fathers, for example, when preparing for his funeral, is
“For me, Dad was the first thought that came to my mind when I think
about God.”
In today’s gospel, Jesus speaks about a landowner who scattered
seeds and allowed them to sprout. Because of the landowner’s
dedication, those spouts eventually matured into crops that yielded
“good fruit.” What do you want to be remembered as? A
“bio-dad”? One who “paid bills as required by law and on time.”
Or, someone whose depth of spirituality was passed intact through
your children to your grandchildren?
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