To Timothy, my dear son: Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.
2 Timothy 1:2 (NIV)
Last night I had the privilege to speak to a packed room of high school students. They’ve been working their way through a book called God Distorted by John Bishop, and the premise of the book is that we often take the heartache and shortcomings we’ve experienced with our own fathers and project them onto God the Father. The book explores different father types (e.g. absent, passive, controlling, and etc.) and last night I got to unpack the ways in which demanding fathers affect their children and the reality that God is not a demanding Father.
Along life’s road I’ve come to accept the reality that all earthly fathers, myself included without question, fall short of perfection. As my friend Chadwicke shared a week or so ago, “you can’t give away what you haven’t received.” Some fathers certainly do a better job than others, and all who are given the mantel of fatherhood have a responsibility to our children to diligently work at being a good dad. Nevertheless, we all fall short in some areas. It just is what it is. At some point every father must depend on the grace of his children to forgive his shortcomings.
Timothy’s father is absent from mention in God’s message. History does not share with us the reason why, but whether through death or circumstance Timothy seemed to have a gaping hole in his life when it came to the father department. Timothy was raised by his mother and grandmother. Enter Paul, who becomes a mentor and father figure to the young man. In today’s chapter, Paul begins his letter by addressing Timothy as his “dear son.” Sometimes fathers (and/or mothers) have nothing to do with DNA.
This morning I am thinking about the room full of high school students last night. I’m thinking about Paul’s mentoring of Timothy. I’m thinking about my ever-present dad and the ways my life was launched by his love and provision. I’m thinking about the men and mentors who were, nevertheless, like a father to me in so many ways. I’m thinking about my responsibility to mentor others, to stand in the gap, and to provide a father-like presence for those with a gaping chasm in the dad department.