Happy Father’s Day to all fathers and grandfathers out there!
In honor of this holiday, I’d like to focus today’s communion meditation on a particular set of experiences with my earthly father that helped reveal the character and nature of our Heavenly Father. Let’s see if they are as apparent to you as they are to me.
Dad was a civil engineer, which means he knew how to build things; mostly buildings, bridges, and roads. In fact, he once told me the only difference between civil and mechanical engineers is that civil engineers build things that aren’t supposed to move. He had an aura and sense of humor that made technical knowledge cool and fun, which helped draw me to his profession.
When I reached the age at which I could engage in decent conversation and sit still in the car for a longer trip, Dad would occasionally take me to work with him. As one of the founders and vice presidents of the company, he had a decent office and a secretary but spent most of his time out on the road visiting active construction sites.
It was not unusual to spend several hours driving to and from these sites, which afforded us lots of 1:1 time to talk. He also was a big fan of Cincinnati Reds baseball and Paul Harvey, so I learned to listen carefully to play-by-play on a radio and how to appreciate “the rest of the story.”
We visited all sorts of exotic destinations like Bowling Green, KY; Marysville, OH; Wheeling, WV; and even Carmel, IN. Many of the businesses you now see in these cities were just getting started in the late 1970s and early 80s. The buildings served educational, manufacturing and office space purposes for people who were hard-working and down-to-earth.
Dad gave direction to a crew of rough-and-ready guys, some of whom had cool nicknames like “Rip” and “Isright.” Every Christmas they and their wives visited our house for a special holiday dinner, so I got to know them fairly well.
The letters “P” and “E” after his name on business letters meant Dad was a certified professional engineer and therefore had the authority to testify in court as an expert witness. His words were enough to decide some complex, high-stakes cases.
He made big things happen, like bringing beautiful architecture to life on what was once a muddy field or litter strewn patch of downtown. To this day, we sometimes pass one of those graceful structures and marvel at its timeless beauty.
Dad did things that seemed amazing. Don’t tell OSHA, but I once saw him wedge his foot in a crane’s beefy hook and hold the thick steel cable to ride to the top of a building. Of course, I had to safely wait on the ground for him to return.
Every time we arrived at a job site, he provided protection by tossing me an authentic hardhat–not one you buy at a toy store. Talk about feeling cool! More than once, I admit to purposely walking too close to a piece of steel protruding from a concrete wall or not stooping low enough under a low ceiling just to feel the reassuring “Thud!” through the thick plastic shield.
He also provided for my needs by buying us lunch at McDonald’s and patiently detouring into extra rest area stops when I needed to use the restroom. I’m certain these additional breaks cut into his normal productivity, but he never complained–in fact, he seemed happy to oblige.
In summary, I felt honored and privileged to simply be in his presence and that he wanted to spend so much time alone with me. And as I think back on it now, much of the experience was quite similar to how God the Father reveals Himself in Scripture.
We don’t know a lot about Jesus’ earthly father, Joseph, other than he was a carpenter. The first and second chapters of Matthew describe him as an honorable man who didn’t want to expose his fiancée to public disgrace and obeyed multiple angelic directives to keep his family safe.
But we have several references to moments when Jesus wandered off to a solitary place, which is a bit of a misnomer because our Lord did not seek to be alone: Careful inspection of Scripture reveals that Jesus withdrew to lonely places at odd hours of the day because He wanted to spend one-on-one time with His Heavenly Father. We know this because all of these references record that Jesus withdrew from the crowds and even His own disciples in order to pray.
So, we come to a unique moment in our worship service where, although we are together as believers, we commune silently with our Father in heaven as we follow Jesus’ instructions to remember His sacrifice on our behalf. Let us never take this intimate moment for granted.
========================================
At the Last Supper, as Jesus reclined with his Disciples at the table…he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.”
In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.”
Please join me in prayer…
- Heavenly Father, on this Father’s Day, we don’t want to neglect the special personal relationship to which You call each of us.
- Each and every day, help us to recognize the many ways You invite us into Your presence, and may we always cherish our time together!
DAGreiner 