Father's Day Round Two

This is dedicated to Rev. Gene Boutilier, Rev. Dr. Barry Sang, Rev. Dr. Bill McKinney, Pete Bellis and Rev. Dr. Jeffrey Kuan--fathers of my Spirit, fathers for the Earth. This is dedicated to Rev. William McGaughy & Rev. J.B. Schwartz--fathers of my body, may they both rest in peace. This is dedicated to Jaime Montenegro, Tom Ryberg & Corbin Tobey Davis--three friends and new fathers who give me hope for the generations to come. God is merciful.   

Father’s Day Litany

We thank God for fathers, in body and spirit

inside this building and all over the earth

fathers who love and nurture their own biological children

and love and nurture children not of their blood line.

We thank God for fathers, in body and spirit

Who take time to see, hear, touch, nurture and provide.

Who take time to teach, discipline, support and strengthen.

Who take time to play, sing, dance, and walk alongside.

Who take time to be quiet, attentive, inquisitive and invested over the long haul.

We thank God for fathers who in body and spirit

show up faithfully,

put up with what’s hard, patiently,

who are willing to be changed themselves and

willing to make the world over through concrete acts of love.

We ask God’s forgiveness

for the conditions of evil and sin upon this Earth

that make fathering difficult and impossible for some:

conditions like poverty, unemployment, mass incarceration and war. 

We ask God’s mercy and justice

confront and transform those fathers who

have hurt their families and children

because of dishonesty or selfishness or greed or fear.

We ask God’s peace and healing

be upon all those this day who are broken and pained

because they grew up fatherless without a choice.

God’s peace and healing

be upon men who wanted to but could not father children

with their bodies or spirits.

God’s Peace and healing be upon  

fathers who lost children too soon to tragic death, miscarriage or abortion,

fathers who have living children lost to long-standing resentment or

addiction or untreated mental health disorders or

anything else that separates them.

We pray for all people living today and those unborn

for fathers everywhere to recognize the image of God

incarnated in their lives and we pray for their faithful response

in body, mind and spirit,

faithful responses of integrity and love whenever they are called

to be good stewards of the lives entrusted to their care.

Amen 

Father's Day

It's the day before Father's Day
and facebook has become the latest display case of the nuclear family
where everyone posts their father as their profile picture.
I have two fathers. How to choose? I refuse.
Besides neither one really counts.
It's this half life, half lie, half truth that's always haunting me, daddy.

On accident, I just saw a picture
of my biological father holding his (other) daughter.
It's the only picture I've ever seen of him where he doesn't have grey hair,
where he's a young man with black curls and bulging biceps and a smile
so devilishly gorgeous that someone as smart as my mom would fall for it. 
It's the only picture I've ever seen of my father, fathering.

And I feel like screaming at the picture and screaming at him.
FUCK YOU. HOW COULD YOU? 
I feel like making him the scapegoat for absolutely everything,
every struggle,
every love lost,
every staining abandonment episode,
every stinging inability to participate in healthy intimacy.

But I am in love too.
In love with this idea of him. This idea of my father, fathering.
Isn't it love that spikes the initial yearning for him? It is, yes.
And so I imagine it's me that he's holding.
Imagine it's me that gets to feel his hands on my 2-year old belly,
Imagine it's me smiling from ear to ear in between his sturdy black boots.
I imagine he is elated to be with little me
and that little me can't imagine a life without
this towering, tenderly holding him.

...and when I'm done imagining and done sobbing
because the contents of my imagination are always more generous than this life...

i pray for a world where dads can be dads to all their children,
where women don't fall for the bullshit,
where men don't believe their own hype,
where love can flourish in multiplicity without shame, guilt, fear or minimization of its power.

Praying/Dancing/Sexing/Collaging/Awakening

This is how it goes.

When it's time, you move once.
And then wait.
Sensing a response--
a counter movement--
you consider the power
and take a deep breath.

Then you listen to what's racing.
Is it momentum?
Invitation?
Fear?
A melody crowning?

And again, you move.
This time, there's little guessing
because if it happens twice
it's not a mistake or the silliness of spontaneity.
If it happens twice, it's intentional.
It's rhythmic. It's relationship.

It's dangerous.

Patterns get established at this juncture.
Pulse.
Pulse.
Pulse.
Just listen and feel. Then respond.
That's the sequence, little pilgrim.
Don't step out of line.
Pulse.
Pulse.
Pulse.
Deep breath. 

Yours? Maybe...

Just follow, but don't be misled
by listening too long to that which belongs inside
because the outside current
is what satisfies. It's paradoxical.
Just listen and feel and follow.

This is the best kept secret of the universe,
this secret locked in the bodied archives
of any wanderer hoping to come home
by belonging
(again and again)
(beat by beat)
(sound to sound)
(flesh for flesh)
to what's outside.

Here's the trick.

The trick is to close your eyes
when its most alluring
and to scream
when the silence signifies a great study
and to un/name the distance by becoming,
somehow all the more distinct

in total surrender.