Father Hunger
Hosea 11:1-9
In premarital counseling we spend a lot of time talking about the future bride and grooms parents, and focus a great deal on the dads. We spend time talking about their relationships, favorite memories, the ways that they were disciplined, and what they like and don’t like about their parents. We have a strict rule of confidentiality and over time the couple learns to trust me and we can talk pretty openly. In all the couples I have counseled over the years I have noticed that there are two types:
The first type will go to extreme lengths to protect the name of their families. Their family would make the Cleavers look dysfunctional. Their parents never raised their voice, took them on 5 family vacations a year, spent every meal together, and every Christmas they got a pony and every birthday they got a puppy.
The second type takes this opportunity to talk about every deep dark secret. In this confidential environment they discuss the fact that all their parents did was yell and scream at each other and the kids, the only vacation they ever went on would make a great horror movie, and it was underwear and socks every Christmas and birthday.
It is my hope that through these sessions that we will all understand that like it or not, each person bears the indelible stamp of a father, a person whose impact we rarely escape.
Ken Druck and James Simmons in The Secrets Men Keep discuss six major secrets men have. At the top of the list is that "men secretly yearn for their father’s love and approval." This is often without their conscious knowledge behind the drive many males have to prove themselves. The authors say:
It may surprise us to know that the most powerful common denominator influencing men’s lives today is the relationship we had with our fathers .... Of the hundreds of men I have surveyed over the years, perhaps 90 percent admitted they still had strings leading back to their fathers. In other words, they are still looking to their fathers, even though their fathers may have been dead for years, for approval, acceptance, affection, and understanding.
Last summer I was standing in our friends Sears store in Bay Minette, when a rather large man came in the store and was looking around. He said that he just wanted to look so I just stood and watched him make his way around the store. He looked at chainsaws, grills, washing machines, and made his way back to the TV’s, and he came to a stop when John Michael Montgomery’s video for the song Letters From Home started. I thought that it was rather interesting that during the first two verses the man was completely unaffected, but in the third verse there is a line where the dad in a letter tells his son that he makes him proud. At that moment in the song our rather large friend turned and walked quickly out of the store, with tears streaming down his face. What a powerful moment.
But men aren’t the only ones with a yearning for their fathers. In her book Like Father, Like Daughter, Suzanne Fields presents the results of her interviews with hundreds of women. The central thesis of her research was "Daddy hides, and we forever seek him, only occasionally flushing him out of his hiding places."
This "father hunger" doesn’t end with a desire for the man who was the biological parent. It is a craving for the affirmation, affection, discipline, protection, leadership, and unconditional acceptance that should come from a dad.
When Scripture says that God is our Father, it is telling us that these needs can be met. But not by a flesh-and-blood being, because no matter how wonderful a human model is, he falls short. There are no perfect earthly dads.
Some may find it hard to get excited about the scriptural descriptions of God as a father because of the imperfect models of fatherhood they have experienced here on earth.
Some remember a father who was too wrapped up in his job, his buddies, and his hobbies to provide much support or affirmation. He might have been one of those deluded men who believed that their only job was to bring home a paycheck, while Mom was responsible for everything else.
I heard a story once about a small boy who met his dad at the door one night. ’Daddy, how much do you make an hour?’
"Giving his boy a glaring look, the father said: ’Look, Son, don’t bother me now, I’m tired.’
"’But, Daddy, just tell me please! How much do you make an hour?’ the boy insisted.
"The father, finally giving up, replied: ’Ten dollars an hour.’
"’Okay, Daddy. Could you loan me five dollars?’ the boy asked.
"Showing his restlessness and positively disturbed, the father yelled: ’So that was the reason you asked how much I earn, right? Go to your room and don’t bother me anymore!’
"It was already dark and the father was meditating on what he said and was feeling guilty. Trying to ease his mind, the father went to his son’s room. ’Are you asleep, son?’ asked the father.
"’No, Daddy. Why?’ replied the boy, partially asleep.
"’Here’s the money asked for earlier,’ the father said.
"’Thanks, Daddy!’ rejoiced the son, while putting his hand under his pillow and removing some money. ’Now I have enough! Now I have ten dollars! Daddy, could you sell me one hour of your time?’"
Others recall a father who abandoned them. An elementary school principal, was asked to speak with a third grader who, though a good student, was performing poorly and was whimpering all day. When he asked the eight year old why he couldn’t concentrate on his lessons, the boy said, "I’m afraid that when school’s over, my mom won’t pick me up because she’ll have left me." The principal replied, "Your mama wouldn’t do that." The boy’s head lowered as he muttered, "My dad did."
How many other children have to spend years thinking about a dad who walked out? And you say God is a father?
Others choke back the memories of a father who was harsh-maybe even verbally or physically abusive. The tragedy of child abuse is common beyond belief-even in homes which claim to be Christian!
Where can people turn for the affirmation, guidance, security, and acceptance that a father should provide? Where can we look for someone who can help us build our self-esteem?
I believe that the apostle Paul answers that in two passages:
In Romans 8:15-17 we read For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs-heirs of God and co:-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory
And in Galatians 4:6-7: Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, "Abba, Father." So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir.
God has chosen us, adopted us, despite all our failures. Adoption agencies tell us it is much easier for them to find a home for a healthy baby than one with physical handicaps. But thankfully God didn’t adopt us because we were healthy. He chose us because of his unconditional love. Through Jesus Christ we became his sons and daughters.
How does this description of God as a father help us understand him? What does it communicate about how he relates to us?
First, the description of God as a father communicates a loving, accepting relationship.
In Hosea 11, God explains to his wayward child, "When Israel was a child, I loved him" (v. 1). He continues with the sentimental language of parenting: "It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms" (v. 3). The relationship between God and Israel was built solely upon God’s love, not on the wonder or majesty of Israel.
Christian author Philip Yancey has written about a time on a holiday visit with his mother when he pulled down a large box of old photos from the closet. It contained shots of him in cowboy and Indian costumes, in a Peter Cottontail suit for a first-grade play, and in cap and gown for graduation.
What captured his attention that day, however, was a typical "infant shot": a fat cheeked, half-bald baby, with an unfocused look to the eyes. But the picture was crumpled and mangled. Why, he asked his mother, would she hold on to this old photo when there were so many others in much better condition?
She explained that when he was ten months old, his father contracted spinal lumbar polio, totally paralyzing him and forcing him, at the age of twenty-four, to live inside an iron lung. All he asked for was a picture of his wife and two sons. She had managed to cram that old photo between the metal knobs on the large steel cylinder that did his breathing for him. Philip’s father spent three months there until he died, staring at the son whom he hardly knew but deeply loved. Yancey writes:
I have often thought of that crumpled photo, for it is one of the few links connecting me to the stranger who was my father. Someone I have no memory of, no knowledge of, spent all day every day thinking of me, devoting himself to me, loving me as well as he could.
I mention this story because the emotions I felt when my mother showed me the crumpled photo were the very same emotions I felt that February night in a college dorm room when I first believed in a God of love. Someone is there, I realized. Someone is watching life as it unfolds on this planet. More, Someone is there who loves me. It was a startling feeling of wild hope, a feeling so new and overwhelming that it seemed fully worth risking my life on.
What a staggering thought! You are of such great concern to the God of the universe! Even though he watches over billions of people, he is able to spot you in a crowd-because you’re his child, and he loves you.
The comfort that stems from the love God brings to this relationship is quickly matched by the challenge before us, to respond, as every child should, with trust and obedience.
As parents we hope that our children win trust us. Imaging Trafton as he inches toward the swimming pool where I am with outstretched arms. I urge him to leap in. "Trust me I’ll catch you." He surveys the depths, closes his eyes, and springs forward.
All parents we also insist that our children obey us. We set limits because we love them, and we don’t want to see them get hurt. My mom used to say "I know the street is a great place to play ball. I understand that it’s nice and wide and that the ball bounces better on it. But you could be hurt badly by a car."
We don’t want to see them in pain-partly because we always feel their pain so deeply. My brother Trae has a great little scar right below his chin that he got when he was three years old. We were living in Millington, Tennessee and he was asleep when he rolled a little too far to the right and fell out of the top bunk bed to the floor and his chin hit a Tonka truck cutting him straight through to his mouth. My parents rushed in and saw him bleeding, scooped him and me up and off to the emergency room on base.
My dad went back with Trae to comfort him and I stayed out with my mom. But very soon after they went back there was a great commotion and others doctors and nurses rushed to the back where my dad and brother were. It seemed that when the doctor put his finger through the hole in the bottom of my brothers chin and waved to my dad, that he passed out, falling on the floor and hitting his head.
The thought of the pain that his son was experiencing was more than he could endure.
Because of his great love for us, God has insisted that we allow Him to guide us. He has graciously offered us instruction on how to live. While His guidelines may at times seem like restrictions, they are intended to protect us from pain.
Imagine God’s deep hurt when he cries out in Hosea 11 that his child Israel refused to trust or obey him:
But the more I called Israel, the further they went from me. They sacrificed to the Baals and they burned incense to images. It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms; but they did not realize it was I who healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love; I lifted the yoke from their neck and bent down to feed them. Win they not return to Egypt and will not Assyria rule over them because they refuse to repent? Swords will flash in their cities, will destroy the bars of their gates and put an end to their plans. My people are determined to turn from me.
This is the same agony God expresses in Jeremiah when he mourns, "I thought you would call me ’Father’ and not turn away from following me" (3:19)
and in Malachi when he asks, "If I am a father, where is the honor due me?" (1:6).
If we fail in our obedient trust, is all hope destroyed? It certainly sounds like it. By all expectations God should be sick of Israel (and with us) because of persistent failures to follow him. But parents don’t give up very easily!
Right after saying that Israel had gone too far and was going to face destruction, the fatherliness of God breaks out:
How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, Israel? How can I treat you like Admah? How can I make you like Zeboiim? My heart is changed within me; all my compassion is aroused. I will not carry out my fierce anger, nor will I turn and devastate Ephraim. For I am God, and not man The Holy One among you. Hosea 11:8, 9
According to Hosea, this relationship, this covenant, is rooted in the steadfast love of God. He is a father who anxiously awaits the return of any prodigal son or daughter, no matter how far from home they may have wandered.
Ernest Hemingway told the story of a father and his teenage son. The son had sinned against his father and in his shame he ran away from home. The father searched all over Spain for him, but still he could not find the boy. Finally, in the city of Madrid, in a last desperate attempt to find his son, the father placed an ad in the daily newspaper. The ad read:
"DEAR PACO, MEET ME IN FRONT OF THE HOTEL MONTANA- NOON TUESDAY. ALL IS FORGIVEN. I LOVE YOU. SIGNED- YOUR PAPA."
The father prayed that maybe the boy would see the ad and maybe-just maybe- he would come to the Hotel Montana.
And on Tuesday at noon, the father in Ernest Hemingway’s story arrived at the Hotel Montana and he could not believe his eyes. A squadron of police officers had been called out to keep order among the eight hundred young boys named "Paco" who had come to meet their father in front of the Hotel Montana. Eight hundred boys named Paco read the ad in the newspaper and hoped it was for them. Eight hundred "Pacos" came to receive the forgiveness they so desperately needed.
We are living in a time when "father hunger" seems like a national epidemic. No human father can ever provide us with all we need. Even the best can’t give us the leadership, affection, protection, and unconditional acceptance we crave.
This God-given hunger will continue until we realize that God is the ultimate good Father for whom we desperately search. It is only in him that we can find our self-esteem and significance. We win be forever searching, forever restless until we rest in Him.
Offer invitation.
