Our Mothering Father

June 15, 2025

I listened to a gentleman recently talking about visiting his adult son who was gravely ill in hospital. After several days of keeping vigil, he realized that he would need to change the way he “fathered’ his son. He said, he’d have to be more mothering. I asked what he meant by that, and he responded. “You know, hold his hand, talk to him, just let him know I’m there for him”. 

It made me think of the Father in the story read to us this morning by Tisha about the Prodigal son. It could have been called the Prodigal Sons, plural. Or even the Father of the two sons because the story really does speak of all of them even though we’re used to referring to only the one son, You know the guy, the one who runs off with his inheritance and blows it all on fancy cars, fast living and gambling, and comes to the realization one day, half-starved and living off of the scraps of the plates he was washing in the fancy restaurant that he could be doing manual labour for his Father and be better off. So why not make amends and head back home.

And of course, the son who had remained responsible and steadfast with his father’s property was furious when his no-good brother shows up and Dad hands him the Ferrari keys and leather jacket. I heard a preacher on this story say, when the Father greets his lost son, he runs to him, slippers on and bathrobe flying he’s so eager to greet him, to hold him, to shower him with love because he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to do that again. The preacher said, he ran to him like a “mother”. In the Middle East in those days, patriarchs did not run in public, certainly not appear dressed so shabbily nor show PDA’s (public displays of affection). 

Jesus was speaking to a crowd of Pharisees and Gentiles. You could call them the Honourable Ones, Priests who followed the law and Dishonourable Ones, Gentiles, who did not live by the law: both children of God but living differently. Both loved by God the Father which is where the issues began.

This is not an uncommon story. Father dies, and children dispute their inheritance. Fight, sue, stop talking, you name it. Sound familiar? What stood out for me in a sermon preached on this story is that they highlighted the Father. We tend to focus on the repentant son and the sulky son but if we look more closely, we learn something so critical that impacts our own lives of faith. How many of you identify with the Father, as a parent who is disconnected or estranged from an adult child? Is there anything more heart wrenching than a child that no longer seems to return the love you feel for them? As siblings squabble over who gets the car or the family cottage, is there any sense of how the parent laments that they couldn’t care less about the family property, they just want the relationship with their children, and they want their children to get along as well. That is why the father in Jesus’ parable is so willing to give the younger son his inheritance before he’s even dead. In asking for it, the younger son is showing his Dad, that the money is more important than his relationship with him because for him, his Dad was worth more to him dead than alive. And the elder son, so jealous of his Father giving his brother what was in fact his fair share, he’d inherit the bulk of it eventually as first born, but he too held his own “goodness” of higher value than his relationship with his Father or his brother. He was so busy being good, so self-righteous that he didn’t see the harm and resentment he was building as a wedge between he and his Father and brother.

So here we are back to the Father, the mothering father who ran and wept, embraced and loved, was extravagant in his affection and forgave and forgot, all to show his sons how his love for them was greater than and despite anything either of them could do, good or bad.

I was almost sixty before I knew my father’s name. Armand. But he’d been dead for over a decade so I all I had was a grainy photo from the 70’s, a newspaper article about his time working at a golf course and a picture of his tombstone. My adoptive Dad I’m told used to carry me around with a big grin on his face, so happy to have a daughter after two rambunctious sons. I was definitely Daddy’s little girl. We’d share jokes and strawberry shortcake desserts and spit watermelon seeds into the kitchen sink in the summer. The man who married my birth mother and fathered my two younger half- sisters would have raised me as his own had he had the chance. Instead, we met long after my childhood but he loved me and I presided over his funeral. My first two children’s father hasn’t been a father to them in almost thirty years. My husband was a step-dad to them but was always racked with guilt about not spending enough time with his own three daughters though he was always there for them. He said his best day was when he got to connect with all six of his kids; his, mine and ours. 

Fatherhood isn’t easy. As kids we perhaps expect certain things from our Dad’s and sometimes they have the ability to meet our needs and sometimes they don’t. And sometimes, Dad’s, are best known as sperm donors, and some Dad’s come in the form of mentors, coaches or teachers who give us far more guidance and encouragement than what we might have got from home. Some Dad’s, seem to know the Dad thing, right from the start. Other Dad’s, have to kind of grow into it. And some Dad’s, never quite get it at all. And kids in the same family can describe their relationship with their Dad and you think they’re talking about different people because each of us can experience our parents differently than our siblings because we ourselves are different. 

I get it.  Family can be complicated. Trust me, I know. We feel jealous of one siblings connection to another, not because we actually mean to but we don’t recognize our own desire to feel loved and accepted. My husband used to say, see the anger, look for the hurt. None of us who are parents are perfect. None of our parents were perfect. Some perhaps tried more than others, some were perhaps better suited than others but ultimately you deal with the cards you were dealt.  And please know I am not suggesting you have to accept an abusive or toxic relationship. 

What I see in the Father’s actions of this parable is that Jesus uses it to model his understanding of his own relationship with God whom he called Abba that suggests a close and intimate relationship. Jesus took time apart to connect with God his Father, to seek solace, wisdom and strength from him. And God was there. When Jesus was baptized, he heard the words, “This is my son in whom I am well pleased.” Yet when he suffered on the cross, He cried, Father why have you forsaken me? Any parent or adult who loves a child knows the pain of watching that child suffer or endure pain and not be able to intercede. Even God, like the Father of the parable, felt that pain and agony of separation from his child, which had come because of destructive and unjust actions of the powerful of his day. Even an adult child who by their own choices winds up in difficult and life-threatening situations is still loved. Love ready to be offered when given the chance. Dennis and his son had not had an easy life together. In these past days they were brought together unexpectedly, and he was able to be with Chris, show him his mothering love, hold his hand and be present with him.

God is ready to receive each of us anytime, He says everything that is mine is yours, so let the celebrations begin. Any of us who are lost can be found. We are all beloved by Our Father. Thanks be to God.