Luke 8:26-39 Revised Standard Version (RSV)
Jesus Heals the Gerasene Demoniac
26 Then they arrived at the country of the Ger′asenes,[a] which is opposite Galilee. 27 And as he stepped out on land, there met him a man from the city who had demons; for a long time he had worn no clothes, and he lived not in a house but among the tombs. 28 When he saw Jesus, he cried out and fell down before him, and said with a loud voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beseech you, do not torment me.” 29 For he had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many a time it had seized him; he was kept under guard, and bound with chains and fetters, but he broke the bonds and was driven by the demon into the desert.) 30 Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. 31 And they begged him not to command them to depart into the abyss. 32 Now a large herd of swine was feeding there on the hillside; and they begged him to let them enter these. So he gave them leave. 33 Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and were drowned.
34 When the herdsmen saw what had happened, they fled, and told it in the city and in the country. 35 Then people went out to see what had happened, and they came to Jesus, and found the man from whom the demons had gone, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind; and they were afraid. 36 And those who had seen it told them how he who had been possessed with demons was healed. 37 Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Ger′asenes[b] asked him to depart from them; for they were seized with great fear; so he got into the boat and returned. 38 The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but he sent him away, saying, 39 “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.” And he went away, proclaiming throughout the whole city how much Jesus had done for him.
In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.
“The story is told of a father of five children who came home with a toy. He summoned his children and asked which of them should be given the present. ‘Who is the most obedient one here? Who never talks back to Mom and does everything Mom says to do?’ he inquired. There were a few seconds of silence, and then all of the children said [with] one accord: ‘You play with it Daddy!’”
I guess you could file this one under the category of “setting an example”!
(Thanks to Virginia Klecker for this!)
Mark Twain once wrote this about his dad: “When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.”
Well, Dads, here we are again – it’s Father’s Day. It is an important day and it needs to be observed.
It’s actually harder for me to prepare a Father’s Day sermon than it is a Mother’s Day sermon, for a lot of reasons. Mother’s Day sermons are a slam-dunk by comparison, because we all know what mothers do – because we experienced what our mothers did for us, and we see what our wives do for our children; so we get at least an idea about what they do. They generally are the primary caregivers of our children – even today, when so many mothers work outside of the home, and pursue careers, they are still regarded as the lynchpin of the home. If you doubt this, just think back to the last time you replied to a request from one of your kids with the words, “Go ask your mother”!
It’s also difficult for to “do” a Father’s Day sermon because it might seem more than a little self-serving. Don’t get me wrong – I enjoy the cards, I appreciate the gifts, large and small – especially the hand-made ones my kids gave me when they were little; but I also confess to having conflicting emotions – on the one hand, I experience a fleeting little flash of self-consciousness and even embarrassment; and on the other, sometimes part of me feels that I’m “not supposed” to like Father’s Day, or treat it any differently than any other day; and maybe beneath that is the feeling that, well, I might not “deserve” the attention and the fuss – because, after all, that’s what dads do, isn’t it?
And, of course, I can’t think about Father’s Day without thinking about my own Dad, and how much I miss him; and about my Granddad Newton, who was to me a sort of Sphinx-like patriarch; and my Grandpa Carson, whom I will always remember for his pot roast and the ever-present pipe that stuck out of his mouth.
My Granddad Newton, my Grandpa Carson, and my Dad were what Robert Bly calls “the Fifties male” (but for my Dad, I think it was more superficial). The Fifties male was that traditional male, who was “supposed to like football, be aggressive…never cry, and always provide.”[1] Actually, as I think about it, the only item on that list that I feel really applies to Dad was “always provide.” I’m pretty sure Dad liked football, but he never let a football game get in the way of whatever woodworking or handyman project he had going at the time. When we were small, Dad held down two part time jobs, in addition to his full-time job as an elementary school teacher, to make ends meet. He and Mom didn’t have two nickels to rub together in any given week – but we kids never knew it (until many years later). He just did what he had to do, and he didn’t complain, because he was The Dad.
From Dad’s example, I got the sense of being the protector, the defender, the provider, of my little brood. I took seriously what I saw as my job to keep the rain off their heads, the heat on, and the refrigerator stocked, just as my Dad did for me. Sometimes the way I went about it must have seemed a bit counterintuitive, to say the least, if not downright counterproductive; but that was the underlying intention.
But then there was this thing called “the 70s” that happened that really confused me, and no doubt a lot of guys. All the assumptions we had grown up with, that my Dad and my Granddad had grown up with, were thrown aside. Society, we were told, no longer wanted the “Fifties male.” He was out; and a new, gentler, more thoughtful male was in. The old roadmap no longer guided us to where we needed to go.
In many ways, this new development was great for us males, particularly for those of us who became dads in those days, because we could have more of a hand in raising our children and nurturing them beyond just the old role of disciplinarian (actually, as I look back on my life, I think my Dad and Granddad were way ahead in that department, too!). But it did cause some confusion, and that confusion is felt even today.
So what does it mean, really, to be a father in this day and age? Based on my experience with our brave new world, if there’s some “Father’s Manual” out there, I’ve never read it. All my friends who are fathers seem, just like me, to be making it up as they go along. Where, for example, does nurturing need to be set aside for a necessary exercise of authoritarianism? How far should any authoritarianism go? How much autonomy should the child be granted? Even when your kids are older – are adults and have left home – what are your responsibilities as a parent? For most mothers, these don’t even seem to be issues; but for us dads, it’s still sometimes a twisting path through the brambles.
But it’s a journey, a quest if you will, that’s supremely worth the efforts. Mike Lubich posted a meme on his Facebook page the other day that I think gets right to the heart of what I want to say today. The picture shows a child’s hand being gripped by a father’s hand, with the caption: “Dads are just as important as moms.” Not “more important,” but “just as important.” We do have more than one important role to play in the lives of our children, and “dadding isn’t easy,” as Emma Diab writes in her blog post “The Hardest Thing About Raising Children According to Fathers” on the Thrillist website.[2] Here are just three of the items from her list:
-
Waking up to an empty house
“It’s hard when they grow up and move away. You want them around you, to watch them succeed, help them when they fail, and just enjoy life with them and your grandchildren.” – Louis, 85
“I think the hardest thing about being a dad is slowly loosening the control grip, and letting him begin to make more decisions on his own and watching him become his own person. We look at our kids and think, “How will they ever do life on their own without us?” We want to be needed. We want to be involved. So the realization that they need us less and less is bittersweet.” – Chester, 44
2. Realizing small, defenseless people are depending on you to keep them alive
I really resonate with this one as I remember my life when my kids were small!
I think the hardest thing is when they get sick. You come home from work and then stay up all night trying to bring the kid’s fever down, trying to figure out what to do to help them before you can take them to the doctor. I feel pretty lost, when they get sick.” Paul, 41
-
Coming to terms with the constant, crushing anxiety.
At first I thought it was the sleepless nights, midnight feedings, and diaper changes. Later I thought it was helping with homework, teaching them to ride bikes, and boyfriend advice. But I’ve come to realize that the hardest thing about being a father is worry. Worrying if they will find a career that they will enjoy and prosper at. Worrying if they will find a man someday who will treat them with love & respect. But mostly just worrying if they will be healthy & happy in their adult lives.” – Mark, 60
There’s only one prayer that I have prayed consistently and constantly since our kids were born. It’s very short, and goes like this: “God, please keep our children safe.” It’s been extended over the years to include nephews and nieces, kids from Sonshine, kids from St. John’s, and now to our granddaughter. I pray it a lot. We dads, we guardians of the brood, can’t be everywhere – so we have to entrust our kids to the gracious hand of God.
In today’s Gospel lesson, we see an example of this. It stands to reason that that poor young man, out of his mind, running naked among the tombs, had a family. A family who worried about him. A family who was powerless to help him. A family who did not know where to turn. A Mom, siblings, and a Dad whose hearts were broken. Maybe they had been praying and hoping that God would intervene on their behalf and help their son. And God answers their prayer by sending Jesus into that foreign country – a place where no Jew had any business being – and their son is healed. God’s grace is extended to people who don’t expect it.
This week has been yet another week of tragedy – shootings in Orlando and England, raging fires in Canada and out west, war in the Middle East…all over there are hearts of Dads and Moms that are broken. We are overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, and our hearts break, too.
But it can’t just end there. Today, Dads, and Moms, Grandmas and Grandpas, Aunts and Uncles, Brothers and Sisters, young, old, and everyone in between, let’s use the greatest tool God gives us for the healing of the world, and pray “God, please keep all our children everywhere safe!”
It works. Even if we don’t see it happen, it works!
In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.
[1] Bly, Robert, Iron John: A Book About Men, © 1990, 2004, by Robert Bly, DaCapo Press
[2] https://www.thrillist.com/lifestyle/nation/the-hardest-thing-about-raising-children-according-to-fathers