Father John E. McGinn, Rector
Saint John’s Episcopal Church
Sandwich, Massachusetts 02563
June 17, 2007, Father’s Day Pentecost
3
This sermon is taken from
Galatians, chapter 2, verses 15-21.
First of all, I want to
welcome you all this morning on this Father’s Day for 2007. I want to begin by saying it is not easy
being a father. I heard about a man who
said he was warned that as his three daughters became old enough to date, he’d
disapprove every man who took them out. When the time came though, he was
pleased that this prediction was wrong.
Each boy was pleasant and well-mannered.
In talking to one of his daughters one day, he said that he liked all
the young men she and her sisters brought home. “You know, Dad,” she replied, “we don’t show
you everybody.” Probably not. I probably didn’t see all of my daughter’s
friends.
I want to focus your
attention this morning on the Epistle;
the twentieth verse of the second chapter of Paul’s letter to the Galatians that I just
read: Paul writes: “I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live,
but Christ lives in me. The life I live
in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself
for me.”
Here I think is the ultimate
secret of being a good dad, and a good mom, and a good grandparent, and a good
son, and a good daughter, and a good friend.
Ultimately, it is the secret of being a good follower of the man from
Nazareth. “I have been crucified with
Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.”
Now what does Paul mean when
he says that he has been crucified with Christ?
Certainly, it does not mean that he has been crucified literally with
nails in hands and his feet. No. What is crucified in Paul is his old way of
living: his pride and his self
righteousness, his sense of moral superiority, his disdain for people who did
not think as he did and worship as he did.
Paul became a new person. It is
amazing that the Paul who persecuted people because of their religious beliefs,
could be the same Paul who wrote first Corinthians thirteen. “If I speak in the tongues of angels, but
have not loved, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging symbol. If I have to give the prophecy and fathom all
ministries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains,
but have not loved, I am nothing. If I
give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have
not loved, I gain nothing. Love is
patient, love is kind. It does not envy,
it does not boast, it is not proud, it is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it
is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices
with the truth.”
Hard to believe that Paul,
the persecutor, wrote these words. Remember
that when Paul, or Saul as he was known then, first came to Jerusalem to try to
join the disciples, they were afraid of him.
They knew his horrible reputation.
There was nothing loving about the Paul that they had heard about, and
that is just the point: the old Paul was
dead. Now there was a new Paul,
fashioned after the character of Christ; loving and forgiving and accepting and
caring. “I have been crucified with
Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body I live by faith
in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.” That was the testimony
of the new Paul.
And that is what we all
need: to be crucified with Jesus and to
become new persons in Him. I think it
is particularly true of dads. Have you
ever heard of the male ego? Of course,
you have. It is part of the male
character that many men think the world revolves around them. I am stereotyping here a little bit, but
women have egos too. But part of the
socialization of most women includes learning to think of we and
not just me. Not so
with many men.
Maybe you heard about the
Lamaze class which was full of pregnant women and their husbands. The instructor was teaching the women how to
breathe properly along with informing the men how to give the necessary
assurances at this stage of the plan.
The teacher then announced, “Ladies, exercise is really good for you;
walking is especially beneficial. And,
gentlemen, it wouldn’t hurt you to take time to go walking with your wife.” The room really got quiet. Finally a man in the middle of the group
raised his hand. “Yes?” replied the
teacher. “It’s all right if she carries
a golf bag while we walk?” he asked.
Again, I am
stereotyping. There are many sensitive
and caring men in the world. But it is
also true that many men grow up fighting for a place in the sun. Their first instinct is to be competitive and
to look out for number one. And this
causes them to be insular. If you let
others get too close, they can find weaknesses.
In other words, there is much in the classic male makeup that works
against being a loving mate and a loving parent. Many men need to die to their old selves and
to be reborn with a new orientation. In
Paul’s own words: “To be crucified with
Christ and to find a new life within.”
Of course, this is true of
all of us: men and women, married and
single, parents and grandparents, and
those who are living alone; but for those who are in a situation where you are
responsible, not only for the physical needs of others, but also their
emotional and spiritual needs as well.
There is that special need for
Christ-like love; a love more giving than the love we were born with.
One author tells about his
father who retired at the age of sixty-four.
The author wanted to by his father something to thank him for his hard
work and his sacrifice. And as he
shopped, however, he realized there was nothing he could buy that could thank
his father enough. His father had taught
him through his own hard work and faith in God that the greatest gifts come
from the heart and not in a store or in the mall. So that night he sat down, and he wrote a
list of thank yous to his father for all that he had done for him. He left it on the kitchen table for his
father to read before that final day at work.
And here it is: It says, “Thank you, Dad, for waking up every
morning when it’s still dark outside and going to work while we slept in our
warm beds; for wearing that ugly paper tie I made you in the first grade; for
teaching me how to pray; for coming to all my Little League games, and for
keeping quiet when other fathers wouldn’t.
For loving my mother with all your heart; for teaching me I can never
say “please and thank you” too often; for taking me out for ice cream the night
I stuck out with a tying run on third base; for giving me a hug when I badly
need one; for building that voice inside me that said, “no,” when I was tempted
to get in a car after I had been drinking; for giving me life even after you
lost a son; for helping me buy my first car; for being a wonderful grandfather;
for telling me it’s okay to cry; for being my hero; for being my friend.”
Being a loving father does
not come naturally. It is hard
work. It means ignoring your own needs
at times so that you can focus your attention on the needs of others. Some of us had fathers who were able to do
that. Others of us had fathers who could
not. And part of this new, Christ-like
character is the ability to give unconditional love. And what do I mean by unconditional love?
I can say without hesitation
that conditional love, that is love that is based on accomplishment, not on
conditional acceptance; has damaged many of us.
It is very antithesis of Christ-like love. Christ-like love says: I love you for being you; not for your
achievements, not for being an honor student, not for being outstanding at
sports; I love you without reservation
simply and solely because you are my child.
That is the love we receive from Jesus.
That is the love we seek to transfer to our children.
If somehow you never received
that kind of unconditional love from your parents, I hope you will receive it
today from Jesus. You don’t have to be a
super achiever. You don’t even have to
be a super Christian. God loves you
because you are you.
I read a story entitled, “Priceless
Scribbles.” It concerns a father who
touched his child’s life in an unexpected way.
A young boy watches his father walk into the living room and he notices
his brother, John, began to cower slightly as his father entered. The older boy sensed that John had done
something wrong. Then he saw from a
distance what his brother had done. The
younger boy had opened his father’s brand new hymnal and scribbled all over the
first page with a pen. And staring at
their father fearfully, both brothers waited for John’s punishment. Their father picked up his prize hymnal and
looked at it carefully; and then sat down without saying a word. Books were precious to him. He was a minister with several academic
degrees. For him, books were
knowledge. And what he did next was
remarkable, says the author of the story.
Instead of punishing his brother, instead of scolding or yelling, his
father took the pen from the little boy’s hand, and then wrote in the book
himself, along side of the scribbles that John had made. Here’s what the father wrote: “John’s work: 1959, aged two. How many times have looked into your
beautiful face and into your warm, alert eyes looking up at me, and thanked God
for the one who has now scribbled in my new, beautiful hymnal. You have made the book sacred as have your
brother and sister, and so much of my life.” “Wow,” thought the older
brother, “this is punishment?
The author of the story, now
an adult, goes on to say that hymnal became a treasured family possession; how
it was tangible proof that their parents loved them; how it taught the lesson
that what really matters is people, not objects; patience, not judgment; and
love, not anger.
I want to say this morning,
that kind of love doesn’t come naturally to many of us. What many of us need is to be reborn, not in
a doctrinal sense, but in a practical one.
We need a new heart; we need new ambitions; we need new emotions; we
need to die to our old selves; and to be made new to the love of Jesus. And that’s true of dads, and that’s true of
moms, and that’s true of single men and single women. St. Paul writes: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no
longer live, but Christ lives in me.” So
may it be with you.
Amen