Dad’s get a raw deal.

          Think about it. Mother’s Day rolls around and everyone gets all teary eyed. Kids of all ages scurry to get Mom something special. We honor them with flowers and breakfast in bed and gifts and meals and then in church we have programs for others to speak of the blessedness of motherhood. As a gift on Father’s Day, Dads are told they can watch whatever they want on TV. In days gone by when men wore ties, the father could expect a tie or a mug. In church, where a Biblical story of a valiant and noble mother was offered just a month previous, there is instead an admonition to fathers to be better fathers. It just doesn’t make sense to me.

          At our church in Ohio we kind of fixed this inequity. We split the difference between the holidays. On the first Sunday of June we had Family Day, usually at a park along Lake Erie. A church service in the pavilion followed by a picnic meal. We honored families. Moms and Dads and Grandpas and Grandmas and kids. You still recognized the special day at home, but it was Family Day at church. Very fun.

          But, yesterday was Father’s Day. Our son is adopted. We lived in Florida and the adoption was for a child in Oregon. Marsha flew out to bring our son home and I went to the airport on the Saturday before Father’s Day to pick them up. Father’s Day has some precious memories for me.

          Our son, Adam, was just getting to the age where he understood the basic concept of Father’s Day. For my big day, he wanted a special present. Back then I wore a tie every day of my life except Saturday, and often then, as well. It was part of the preacher uniform. I ran into a fellow preacher one day who wasn’t wearing a tie. I asked him if he was going to a rodeo later. He hung his head and admitted he had spilled coffee on his tie. I let him off the hook and loaned him an extra I always carried. So, my son wanted to give me a tie. But not just any old tie. On Saturday mornings we would sometimes watch cartoons together. He thought I just liked cartoons when what I really liked was spending the time with him. One of the cartoons was Star Trek; The Animated Series. In his child’s mind Adam decided what I needed was a Star Trek tie. When I opened my gift I found a surprisingly well made tie with Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy on it. As it happens, I do like Star Trek. There have been six series on TV and I have seen every episode of every series. Just so you know, people like me are not called Trekkies. We are better than that. We are called Trekkers. (I once knew a pastor from the Rocky Mountains. He said he wasn’t a hillbilly. He was a Mountain William. Same principle between Trekkie and Trekker.) Anyway, I really liked the tie. Still have it. I will sometimes wear it under a sweater. Good quality. Just not really suitable for a suit.

          On Monday mornings, we would have a pastors’ breakfast at a local restaurant. It was a pretty big place built like an IHOP. They always kept a room for us toward the back of the restaurant. It was a good time to share and listen to concerns and victories. I was in a hurry to get away from the house and I rushed into the kitchen in a light jacket, which was a departure from the normal suit coat. Adam looked at me and said, “Father, (I have never known why, when he was growing up, I was ‘father.’ Maybe because he was ‘son.’) don’t you like the tie I gave you on Father’s Day? You never wear it.” What are you supposed to say to that? “You know what, Son. You are right.” I hurried back into the bedroom and switched ties. My wife followed me and asked what I was going to do at the restaurant. Take the tie off? And be out of uniform!!!!? No, I would just zip up the jacket past Captain Kirk’s head and let it go at that.

          Adam was happy and I rushed to the restaurant. When I walked in the place erupted in cheers and cat calls. People were on their feet. “Hey Pastor,” one lady I regularly saw there but didn’t know her name called out. Take it off! Take that jacket all the way off!” Evidently a frustrated stripper. Marsha had called ahead. The other pastors were dying. So, I slowly unzipped the jacket and took it off, exposing my Star Trek tie. I flipped the jacket over my shoulder and strutted to the pastors’ tables in the back. It wasn’t a proud day for pastordom in Warren, Ohio, but it made us more human to those folks.

          Another favorite Father’s Day was the one on which I received four Father’s Day cards. One from the Adam, now in his 20s, one from a young lady in her mid 30s who had lived with us for a while years before, one from one of our youth in the church and one from a woman in her late 20s whom I had never met but was working with via phone and e-mails, counseling her through marital problems. Her father had died a year earlier and I spoke to her as a father would.

Father’s Day is special, not because of gifts or cards, but because of the high privilege of being a father. Raising a child is a high calling. We committed to God that we would have devotions with Adam every night. We would make sure he was in church every Sunday unless he was sick. Vacations, sports or other activities didn’t matter. And, I personally committed to God that my son would never hear me swear. You have to treat a high calling with great responsibility.

Blessings to all of you Fathers out there. Always remember, you are not raising kids. You are raising men and women.