Not Many Fathers

“Not many fathers”? That was the complaint of the apostle, Paul. He said, “Ye have ten thousand instructers in Christ, yet have ye not many fathers.” (I Corinthians 4:15)

Now, what would make Paul say such a thing? He, history and tradition tell us, had not biological children. Yet, he called Timothy, “my own son in the faith.” (1 Timothy 1:2)

It is not unlikely that Paul had an excellent earthly father. It seems that he provided for his physical needs, made sure he had the best education and filled him with the religious zeal he demonstrated not only before his conversion to Christ, but after. Paul never complained about his family except to say that he “could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh.” (Romans 9:3)

It seems that the apostle here, in the scripture in discussion, was trying to draw a distinction, a comparison if you will, between an instructor and a father. While it is possible to be one without being the other, what is the end result and affect on the object of either of the two? Are the two positions inseparable? Can one be an instructor without being a father? Can one be a father without being an instructor?

So, let’s ask, what is an instructor? We all had them in school, in the military and on every job we’ve ever had. The instructor is the one in charge of making sure you know what to do, when to do it and how to do it? Although some are more talented at it than others, the bottom line is that they are to train you to do a job or duty, fill a position or conclude some assignment. It’s a pretty cut and dry task. No emotion or compassion required. No concern for the espirit de corps of the troops. Just insure the trainee is capable of completing the mission committed to him or her.

You know the type. Every day, they are giving you great advice on how to fix your car, save your money or just how, in general, to run your life. They want to tell you what to do; they just don’t necessarily want to get involved. Getting involved is, after all, a grimy proposition, you know.

To me, being a father is a completely different job. It requires a much more personal touch. It’ means getting your hands dirty.

Perhaps, I feel this way because of my own father. He was amazing! He not worked a fulltime job, pastored a fulltime church raising four boys and a garden, attending his elderly parents and taking care to make sure our mom knew he loved her too. Yet, my mind is filled with memories of fishing trips, games of catch in the yard and weenie roasts that, I realize now, were performed by a man who probably was at a point where he might not have felt like the extra effort physically or mentally, but his love of family spurred and inspired him to ensure that he was involved in our lives individually. No, he was not a perfect man, (only one man born was,) but I never have had to wonder whether or not Dad loved me.

As I ponder this world and the sorry shape that it seems to be in, the answer to the cataclysm that we seem to always be on the precipice of is not so complicated. Simply put, we need more fathers. We need real fathers, loving fathers, strong fathers. We need fathers who stand there ground and their families always know where they stand. Yes, I believe it is really no more complicated than that.

When I was a child, any of my peers who did not have a father at home due to death, divorce or abandonment were rare and pitiful indeed. Everyone knew who they were and, often, unfairly looked down upon them as if it was somehow their fault. Like my dad would say, “There are no illegitimate children, only illegitimate parents.” Today, the tables are turning. I fear that in the not too distant future, we will pity or scorn the poor child whose parents bothered to marry before propagating. I can just hear the gossip in the future, “Ya know, little Tommy’s parents are married. Such a shame!”

My thoughts and words are not to diminish mothers or motherhood in any way. Yet, statistics, common sense and the Holy Scriptures teach us the importance of fathers. They also relate clearly to us the tragedy that awaits any woeful waif who has no masculine influence at home showing him and telling him what a man should grow up to be. We’ve all seen the tragedy of a wayward young man who strikes out at the world, because he had no anchor at home to guard and guide him. No, not all fatherless children grow up to be gangsters or homosexuals, but, statistically speaking, the chances of their involvement in crime, alcoholism, general hooliganism or, simply, producing fatherless offspring of their own is greatly increased.

Now, I’m not talking about being a “macho man” here. I’m talking about being a man in a country that scorns manhood. A society that teaches little boys to be effeminate and at the first sign that they are the least bit confused about their sexuality, some educated idiot adds to their confusion by telling them that, in spite of all the evidence, they might actually be a little girl or, perhaps, they, bare minimum, should prefer boys to girls. Sheesh!

Where are the fathers? Oh, I know! That are off coping with their “Peter Pan Syndrome,” chasing their own wasted lives and leaving their little boys and girls to rot on the vine. They’re pursuing their careers, their stimulants or their girlfriends. Men make babies; men make excuses. It’s not a new thing, but it is the prevailing fashion of today’s overgrown, juvenile, immature males. If things don’t work out between you and momma, no worries. They make one child, abandon him or her and move on to start a new “family,” to simply repeat the same insane process. All the while lying to themselves and the crying child who only knows that he doesn’t know where daddy is. And damn the child support! She’ll just blow it on herself! Right? How pathetic is that! (That may or may not be true, but it’s also irrelevant.)

If you want to follow your own selfish, personal dreams, that’s perfectly okay provided you’re not leaving any “little ones” (Matthew 18:6) in your wake to drown in the storm tossed ocean of your egocentric angst. If you don’t want the responsibility, don’t procreate! Be assured, God will hold you responsible! He will not hold your wife, part-time or otherwise, your girlfriend, your parents or grandparents, your government or your pastor responsible. He will hold you, father, responsible! Excuses and self-centered whining, snot slinging and all the crocodile tears in the world about however hard you may have, or may think you may have had it, falls on deaf ears of our Heavenly Father. Our Father sacrificed everything, including Himself, to make us His sons! The God of Heaven did the unthinkable and unforgivable. He abandoned His own Son to make us His sons. (John 1:12) (No, you didn’t abandon your child for the salvation of another! Don’t even go there!)

Paul, a man who wasn’t one to mince words, also told Timothy that a man who doesn’t provide for his own family is “worse than in infidel.” (I Timothy 5:8) So much for the hypocrisy of proclaiming the Gospel when your children are a thousand miles out of earshot of your voice, living under another man’s roof! Where is the Love of God when your own child hasn’t seen or even heard from you in months? Or years?

I’ve known too many schmucks who discarded their kids like broken toys, giving them away to be raised by another, some even going so far as to sign them over to strangers, then, years later, after the heavy lifting is done, they show up, thinking they can now play the roll of “daddy.” I’ve even seen more than one I know, playing with his genetic grandchild, from a son/daughter who had long ago taken the last name of the man who became his legal father, doing the “grandpa” thing. Yes, he was all smiles and giggles and, yes, I was nauseated! I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew how lucky he was that his “son” or “daughter” would give him the time of day. A little humility goes a long, long way.

I, being a step-father myself, know somewhat of what I speak. (I hate the term “step-father.” Makes it sound like someone’s dead.) I know what it’s like to raise the child, in my case children, of another. I’ve seen the loneliness and pain on their birthdays when their father was a no-show. I’ve felt the acrimony and jealousy of knowing that, the best I could do, I’d always be second best. Though I was a father figure, I knew I could never be the “father.” That job was unalterably taken.

I’ve fought through mine and my wife’s struggles and separations as I heard my own daughter cry for her daddy while I watched, through gleaming eyes, taillights trail off in the distance. I found that I had to stop being Peter Pan and grow and mature in ways I never wanted to do. Not because I ever wanted to, but because she needed me. She needed a father. She needed her daddy!

Perhaps, a large part of the problem is that so many young men, inner city,  suburban or even country boys, have never known what it’s like to have a real father. (Some have, but disregard the standard.) Many never had the dad I had and, I’ll admit, never had that example that would’ve lit the way in the darkness for them. Still, there is hope! There is hope in God! There is hope in Christ! If they will turn to Him, if they would only take Him as their Father, he would be a Father to them and their children through them. Then they would be more than an instructor; then, they would be fathers. Then, the cycle of pain could end.
Lastly, If you haven’t seen the movie “Courageous,” it is a Macedonian call to fatherhood that every father today should heed. We should not, we cannot shirk the responsibility that God, our everlasting Father, has blessed us with! I fearfully, but gladly take the responsibly upon myself. Will you?

Who will be a father to his child? By God’s Grace, I will!