Post 10: The Father's Heart

“The central problem of any society is to define appropriate roles for men” - Margaret Mead

It occurred to me during the many long and sleepless nights over the past six years that my desire to be a father is a decidedly counter-cultural trait. Sociologists talk about fatherlessness as one of the hallmarks of modern Western culture- apparently, nearly 50% of American children born between 1970 and 1985 did not have their biological fathers around by the time they reached 17. While its precise sociological impact is probably debated, nearly every measurable outcome is worse for fatherless children. Physical health, emotional health, educational attainment, economic well being, and likelihood of being involved in crime. Richard Rohr (reflecting on his time as a prison chaplain) states that the one thing that every incarcerated man serving time had in common was the absence of their father (or equivalent father figure). To call the current state of affairs a crisis does not strike me as alarmist in the slightest.

In many ways, the church is a reflection of the culture. Male “absence” in the home is reflected in low male participation in today’s congregations. Walk into any weekend service- regardless of denomination or socio-economic composition- and you’ll generally find about ⅔ of the seats are occupied by women and ⅓ by men. If you assume roughly half of a congregation is married, then the ratio of single women to single men goes to 3:1 [sort of the opposite of what you see on the lines waiting to get into the hottest club]. To the outside world, the stereotypical man of faith is either nice [spineless], or chauvinistically religious. Of course, it’s not much better on the outside. In an essay in last month’s Wall Street Journal titled “Where Have the Good Men Gone?”, the author claims that men in their 20s and 30s come across as “aging frat boys, maladroit geeks or grubby slackers”.

One of the beautiful things about the gospel in my eyes is that it contains within it the breadth to address all the world’s problems. Yet there’s a sense in which the gospel becomes specific, relevant, and alive for the particular problem or issue that God can lay on a single person’s heart. One thing I discovered in my desire to become a father is that there is something much broader and deeper within me than simply wanting to raise (at most) a handful of good children. Being a father to S (and hopefully more like him) was really just a specific manifestation of my desire to see young males discover their true selves, and become the kind of men that God designed them to be. As crazy as this may sound, I sincerely believe that the church represents the best chance at facilitating the transformation of the modern male spirit. The good and noble life as modeled by Jesus is really the only hope in attempting to successfully navigate an increasingly complex world with many competing paths to salvation. While the contexts are always changing, the fundamental pillars of a man’s life- his vocation, his family, his friends, and his public persona- are subject and subordinate to the same immutable truths that were made apparent when The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

Of course, the glaring thing that is missing in all of this is a leadership that inspires and draws out the greatness that truly resides in all men. With all due respect to the clergy, I have long felt that the principal burden for this kind of leadership must be born by the laity. Of course, good teaching and guidance are paramount, but what’s really needed is men who can do life with other men and model the larger-than-life existence that we all desire. Here again, the gospel’s core nature is revealed- under no circumstance could I or anyone else presume to have the qualifications to actually carry this mantle. However, it is because we believe in a God whose power is most complete in our weakness that an individual like myself can even ponder taking on this responsibility. And after all, the true essence of leadership is not to create followers of the leader, but to point others in getting intimately connected to the well that never runs dry. As Henry Nouen would say, we are “Wounded Healers”.

As the fruit of my body, Little S demands the lion’s share of my attention today. My hope is that he will one day have many brothers whose biological lineage may be diverse (or even unknown) but who trace their spiritual lineage back to me and will thus name me as one of their spiritual fathers. Then he will come to understand that while he is and always will be the Prince of our household, his ultimate citizenship resides in the family of God.