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Fatherhood
is forever
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Once enacted, it
participates in the eternal. Undiminished. Ageless. Ceaseless.
It is a seal. It is an identity from which we can never be extricated: it cannot
be taken from a father. Strip him of all things; take his clothes, his shoes,
his money; deprive him of his good name and all esteem, take from him his honor,
his strength, his health; leave him naked and covered in ashes and contumely
take all these things from him; deprive him of hope in every dream. Take this
all
and more
but you will not, for you cannot, take from him his fatherhood.
It is a seal upon his soul; it is his ontological presence in the universe, from
which vast parts of the universe unfold, generation unto generation.
In his children he is one.
In his children he is become many.
His dignity is great, but it is made great only by and through his children. In
his children he is ennobled, however base he may become, and in this sense, they
are his redemption. Yes, he has given them life. But they have conferred dignity
upon life, for they have made him like unto God Who is Father of us all.
Fatherhood, in its creative impetus, both emulates the
Fatherhood of God, and derives from it
and in God alone it participates and
endures.
It is not just perpetuity that binds father to child, but eternity. He is forever a father, once having fathered.
Alas for sorrow, in this life, with Rachel he may weep in Ramah, that his
beloved children are no more
yes, in this life they may be no more, nor may he swathe them in his
anguish, lave them in his tears but
his fatherhood endures
for his children endure forever.
Joy and Sorrow. The very fabric of the universe stirs under the breath of life,
even as it respires beyond a father's grasp, is lifted from his bronzed arms,
and borne upon the promise of prophets. A father brings to being what he must
ever relinquish, and his breath pales on the fringe of glory.
Here, in that penumbra between
what was not, what is, what must be, and what will ever be; in that pale nimbus
borne trembling upon a father's hands ... fatherhood even enters the sacral, for
it enters into, even as it issues forth from, the
Motherhood of Mary, who is the Mother of Life who alone, in all
creation, bore within herself
the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
The Mother of Sorrows
how well we understand each other.
You buried your Son. I buried my child, too.
The world had sifted her through my fingers, and I have wept the tears of death.
I have seen the dwelling of Holy Innocents far above the still and empty cradle.
In my grief, have I not cried up to God, my Father:
Yet she lives!
In Thee!
Unto Thee! And surely Thou keepest her for me.
I will yet behold the face of my daughter!
I have dwelt in Ramah.
But she who was no more, by her very being, swift as a babys breath in the
incensed wind, gave unto me this gift, this pledge to all that is eternal: I am her
father.
I have been anointed with fatherhood. It cannot be reaved of me. Nor can she!
I am, as in no other aspect of my being, my fatherhood. The Most High God gave
this to me through her as an imperishable gift, an everlasting
inheritance! So great is His pledge that it is indefeasible to, inexpungable
within, my very being itself.
My children are mine. And I am theirs. It will always, always be.
That is why, in the culmination of his years, heedless of all else, the father
ran to his prodigal son. This was his treasure not what the son had taken,
but what he had brought back.
In utter poverty, covered with shame, blemished in sin, discarded by the world,
unadorned, unshod
the son bore to his father the treasure of all time, the
treasure for all time: flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood
the child in
whose absence a father ever longs.
But more still
A father is father to every child in the world. Every baby, every child, is his
too.
Because it is given by God, and is a participation in the Fatherhood of God
Himself, fatherhood is a pouring forth upon all children, extends to all
children, and because of God's
predilection for the abandoned, especially for orphans
for we ourselves are,
one and all, adopted sons and daughters of God.
Only Christ is consubstantial with the Father.
We are each of us orphans withal, adopted by the Father through the Son.
It is not by nature, but by predilection and grace, that we are Gods children.
If we are children of the One Father, are we not, then, children of every father
who participates in, has received his fatherhood from, the Fatherhood of God
Himself?
This is the fatherhood of grace. It is such a breathlessly beautiful fatherhood,
for father binds himself to child, and child to father, through love, each of
one nature, one love, while not of one flesh, grace yielding each to each other;
the one covering innocence with fatherhood, the other investing manhood with
fatherhood, and fatherhood with dignity and both bound up in one love born
of grace for it is born of God.
My children, even now, cling to my sunburned neck, those of nature and those of grace, and
I know them not apart. Each has possession of my heart. My life is as readily
forfeit for the one as the other. Their laughter is a perpetual song, an eternal
harmony, in my heart.
A fathers heart, I think, is like unto the heart of God.
There is no fatherless child.
There are only children whom I have not yet found
A Father
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