Our Fathers

Sunday, June 13th, 2021

Our Fathers

Jesus gave us a wonderful gift. He brought God into the center of our lives and gave us the image of him as a loving father — ‘Our Father who art in heaven’.  But what happens to our image of God when the word ‘father’ brings up painful memories, unresolved feelings? Father’s Day is a good day to reflect on what that image means in our lives. Father’s Day is a very good day for forgiveness and for healing.

In Aramaic, the language Jesus spoke, the word ‘Abba’ means ‘daddy’ or ‘papa’. It is a loving term that conjures up all that is wonderful about a father. Jesus taught us to call God ‘Abba’.

Deacon Lex Ferrauiola

The English language translation of the New Testament loses some of the meaning intended by Jesus in the original Aramaic. Our Father who art in heaven is very nice, and much more personal than ‘Yahweh’; but our ‘Daddy’ conveys a sense of trust and vulnerability, a feeling of unconditional love and acceptance that gets a little lost when ‘Abba’ is translated as ‘father’.

It wasn’t an accident that Jesus chose this imagery to describe God. For better or worse, whether present or absent, functional or dysfunctional, our fathers may very well be the most influential people in our lives. And, to a large extent, our emotional and spiritual growth, as well as the way we feel towards God, depends on how we ultimately come to terms with the feelings we have for our fathers.

Jesus wanted us to think of God as a loving father. He gave us this image to help us open ourselves more fully to God’s unconditional love and acceptance. But how do we begin to believe that God, our heavenly father, loves and accepts us unconditionally if our earthly father didn’t, or couldn’t?

Many of us carry around some painful childhood memories about our fathers. Perhaps a sense of loss or abandonment by a father who wasn’t physically or emotionally present for us due to a divorce, an untimely death, a debilitating illness or addiction, a suicide. Maybe we carry a feeling that no matter what we did, or how hard we tried, we weren’t acceptable or lovable enough to get our father’s approval, to make him happy, to make him stay. Perhaps we bear the scars of physical, emotional, or sexual abuse. Maybe he even gave us away.

These painful experiences often stay hidden away in our subconscious mind — too painful to confront. While there, they are like blockages in the artery of God’s love. They stand in the way of our being able to accept God’s unconditional love for us. They make it tough for us to truly love God, to love ourselves or to love each other. They keep us locked in a prison of bitterness, and depression and make it difficult for God’s love to flow through us and out into the world.

For better or worse, many of us project our experience of our father onto our image of God. If that experience has left us with emotional pain, then we are in need of healing. But only we hold the key to that healing, for it can only come about through forgiveness.

Counseling and psychotherapy can help bring these painful memories into our conscious awareness so that we can confront them face to face; so that we can experience and purge ourselves of the anger and the hurt. But for real healing to occur, we ultimately need to forgive; to let go of the bitterness, and to unconditionally forgive our fathers in our hearts. We need to understand that they too were the victims of circumstances, and that given the handicaps they had, they may have done the best they could. To do this, no matter how hard or how long it takes is to free our spirit for God’s healing to take place.

I lost my dad when I was five years old. A victim emotionally wounded by World War II and by life, he spent many years in a Veteran’s hospital, and was lobotomized in the late 1950s. I visited him when I was 15, and came away unaffected, or so I thought. He died a few years later, and I hardly shed a tear for this man whom I really never knew.

In my teens and early twenties, I successfully kept my feelings about my father buried far away from conscious awareness. I ran; a perfectionist, overachiever, typical Type A personality — run, run, run; do a million things, burn yourself out, just don’t let the feelings, don’t let the pain get in. It worked. I was very productive. I finished school, married, and built a very good career at a young age; but eventually things fell apart — I couldn’t keep running. I found myself very depressed for a long time and didn’t know why.

It was in this context that I heard of and visited a priest having the gift of healing. After listening to my story, he asked me to close my eyes. He took me on a journey in my mind to a place where time stood still. He was my guide over the horizon, where Jesus stood beckoning to me.

I left the priest and proceeded to meet Jesus. He hugged me and told me that he had been waiting with someone who needed to see me. He led me over a bridge to a park bench where my dad was sitting.

Jesus embraced us both, and we embraced each other. He said my dad was sorry; that he needed me to know that he loved me and had tried his best; that he wanted my forgiveness.

I told my dad how much I had missed him and how sorry I was that we hadn’t had time together. I told him how much I loved him. I forgave in my heart; forgave this kind and gentle man who truly did not need my forgiveness. In that moment in time, we both were healed.

This experience changed me. It enabled me to open myself more fully to the people in my life; to be a more loving father, a more caring husband. It enabled me to accept the fact that God really did love me — that I was lovable. I believe that it ultimately led me here to be a deacon.

I’d like to share with you this poem that I wrote many years ago, shortly after this experience, in the hope that my healing might be the catalyst for forgiveness and healing wherever it might be needed in your lives.

          The Healing

      I’ve had a wish for many years

      to put some time aside;

      To sit upon an old park bench

      with my daddy by my side.

      I’d tell him how I missed him.

      I’d tell him how I cried.

      I’d tell him how I understand

      his suffering deep inside.

 

      And then one day it happened

      through grace and love you see.

      I sat upon that old park bench

      with my daddy next to me.

 

      He told me how he loved me.

      He told me how he cried.

      He asked that I forgive him

      for not being by my side.

 

      I told my dad I love him.

      I told him that I cared.

      I gave him my forgiveness

      and a healing we both shared.

 

      Rest, dad. I love you. 

          May 14, 1985

My sisters and brothers, I wish you a happy and a healing Father’s Day.

With love, Deacon Lex

deaconlex@nullgmail.com

Event Signup Forms
View Signup Forms