“Take my hand, we will go together” Gilgamesh to Enkidu in The Epic of Gilgamesh
Welcome friends and fellow travelers,
Today I want to remind you of an insightful post on Redeeming Fatherhood by Almut and connect it to being present to others and to a series of posts I plan to write on Nurturing the Inner Monk. You might also want to look at two things I have been reading in the last few weeks.
I discovered last Sunday that it was Father’s Day in America. The German Father’s day was several weeks ago. But discovering this, it turned my reading for the day into a deeper insight. I have been reading John Dominic Crossan’s little book on the Lord’s Prayer. You can see some notes on my first take on the book in the most recent installment of What Chuck is Reading. Reading Crossan’s book last Sunday in the light of my struggles to be a good father gave me some consolation that I am not alone. Let me explain.
These days I have been practicing being present, really present, to my daughter. And I must admit, I do not know how. She is four, exploring both her new languages and her independence. And she is still figuring out how her emotions work (as am I). I find it hard to be really present to her and to get our family to the train on time. My mind shrinks to two options (grab her and run, give up completely). And we have missed a train, and it wasn’t the end of the world.
To talk about Father’s day means I need to mention my own father. And I would rather not. It opens up wounds that were never there. I have often said to Almut that I don’t know what it is like to have a father, though clearly I did have one. But I can’t say what that was like, or what I was missing. Because it wasn’t ever there for me to notice that it had disappeared. I was a loner child, enjoying time alone. My father had other things to do, and I only saw him in spurts of visitation. Perhaps because of this, I know that it is of immense importance for me to be present for my daughter.
Almut has written a lovely blog post about God as the Father-image in Kierkegaard. One thing I learned from it is that we do not call God “Father” as a metaphor for our human fathers, instead we call our human fathers “Father” because they dimly reflect God as Father, Householder and Caretaker of us all. She also has a paper that tracks the devastating effect that a negative image of God the Father had on Kierkegaard. There, she shows how he transformed this negative image in his own life and in his writings.
“It is not because you have a father or because human beings have fathers … that God is called Father in heaven, but it is as the apostle says ...— from him all fatherliness in heaven and on earth derives its name.”
So if God is the source of all fatherliness (and of course, also of all motherliness), how do I tap into this? That takes me back to Crossan’s little book on the Lord’s prayer. Crossan places immense importance on the beginning of the prayer “Abba, [the] Father” where Abba is more like my daughter’s “Papa.” He sees in this very short version of this prayer the promise explored further by Paul that though we do not know how to pray, God, “Abba” can pray through us, if we allow it. Then it struck me. Of course I don’t know how to be a Father, anymore than I know how to pray. But, perhaps, if I allow it, if I am open to it, God can be a Father through me.
And that is why I must be present for my daughter. Only then is there a chance that God - in her Divine love - might parent through me, even though I do not know how. But I do know how to be present, to God and to my daughter, and how to get better at being present.
Talking about God as father comes with a multitude of difficulties. It could mislead us into accepting the patriarchal choke hold the church has had on our God image. And also much of what is called today toxic masculinity. Almut’s post on redeeming this image offers a healing image of God as the Divine parent, able to hold the archetypal meaning of God as father and mother at the same time. It is a good place to start in liberating us from this misuse of metaphor.
Becoming more present to God and to others is also the central task laid out in the Rule of Benedict. And thousands of years of monastic tradition has thoughtful advice and useful tools for practicing the presence of God. In a recent post, I try to lay out three aspects of this process of nurturing our “inner monk” (used here in the archetypal sense of our inner contemplative who holds both masculine and feminine attributes) and I promise a series of posts going into some detail about it.
We will be going on vacation over the next 14 days or so, and visiting one of our favorite towns in Germany: Munich. You will be on our mind there, and we hope to write you and send some pictures and thoughts.
If you like to follow along, you can also follow us on our social media channels:
CloisterSeminars on FB for occasional updates
The Weary Pilgrim: A private FB online community to share about our and your pilgrimages
Cloister Seminars on instagram for all who love to see more of Almut’s photographic gift
Chuck, with Almut and little One.
A Blessing
Begin where you are.
Fallen, broken, discouraged, lost
or hopeful
and practice some small
piece of grace for your self
a short prayer
or just bowing to another
Practice it with your whole heart
or with just the pieces you can salvage from the wreckage
And may God accept your tainted offering
and give it wings to fly.
Then, begin again.
CH