"FATHERHOOD- the HERO’S JOURNEY! "
Peter Aitchison
Sunday, June 15th, 2003

HAPPY FATHERS DAY!

It’s a real honor to be standing here before you this morning. Today is Fathers Day. It is an opportunity to celebrate all that fatherhood is—to thank and honor our fathers and all who have been father figures to us. It is also a time for those of us who are fathers to reflect on what the journey of fatherhood means to us and what is being asked of us as fathers.

When Tom called and asked me if I would be up to giving this Fathers Day homily, I about fell out of my chair. I was speechless. For those of you who know me, this may be surprising! My first response was, “Can I have till tomorrow to think about it?” Then, I asked myself, “Peter, what do you have to say about Fatherhood? Someone else should be answering that. The guy in the front row—or over there, anyone but me. That’s for the experts to talk about. The survivors – the saints- who have raised their kids and lived to tell about it.”

Fatherhood doesn’t come with a how-to manual. Oh there are lots of advise-givers but there are no easy answers. If you were looking to hire a father, what would the job description be? WANTED- ONE FATHER. Must have broad shoulders (to carry the load), deep pockets (to pay the bills), be all-knowing (to keep one step ahead of his off-spring), super human (to jump over mountains), have a sense of humor (because there will be many times when he will want to cry but it will be better to laugh), and be a hero (because no one can take his place in his kid’s life).

However, as I reflected upon this journey, my journey, I believe I do have something to share. This is my own story. I’ve entitled my homily FATHERHOOD- the HERO’S JOURNEY! Well I’ve been challenged – what father hasn’t- and I challenge you to open yourselves to really define fatherhood, the role of the hero, and the call to take up the journey. So here is my story. Like most of you, I wear a lot of different hats in my life. I’m Peter: teacher, husband, son, brother, friend, actor, but the most inspiring role I play is that of father. My best friend and partner Kristin and I have 3 children, Halsey 11, McKinnley 9, and Theadora 1 ½.

In my birth family I am the fourth of five boys. All born within the span of 10 years. I know what you’re thinking – your poor mother! Actually, my mother is a saint. I think she thinks so too, because she has a sign hanging in her bathroom that says “There is a special place in heaven for the mother of 5 boys”. Like so many little boys, my father was my first hero. He was larger than life. When I was in his arms, I could touch the clouds and my brothers seemed like ants below. He was capable of superhuman feats in my eyes. I spent hours waiting for his triumphant return from the university where he taught. Spending time with him whatever he was doing was all there was…He was my Hero!

But fast-forward. Now, I’m the father, and what’s all this talk about heroes? I, personally, never signed up for that role. I thought heroes wore capes and were able to leap over tall buildings in a single bound. Couldn’t have anything to do with me. I mean that’s for someone else. Do you realize what it takes to pull off wearing tights in this day and age? What is a hero anyway? What do you have to do to become one? Why would you want to be one? Are only select people admitted to the club? What happens if you don’t make the cut? Is it all or nothing? Or is every person a hero-in-the-making including you and me? Perhaps, the truth is, indeed, that each and every one of us has a potential hero hidden inside waiting to emerge. And that the world around us is the training ground for those who are willing to say “yes” to the call. Think about it. This gym could be the incubator of heroism, the propagator of possibility!

When I was a young boy, my older brother Brent had a superman cape. My mother had made it for him and when he donned the cape, he was empowered with all the heroic forces known to humankind. I know, I was there. This was no ordinary cape. It was red and was emblazoned with a firey S right in the middle. It was beautiful- the way it waved from his shoulders as he soared about the house. He had the appearance of a Greek god. (Or at least a comic book character.) He might even have been a smidgen taller when he was wearing it. Every one of you would have been envious of this cape and the powers I believed that it held. There was just one problem- I wasn’t allowed to touch the cape. I really wasn’t supposed to look at it either, though I did with great envy. “Don’t touch the cape,” he said. “I’m not touching the cape!” I said. “Don’t even look at it,” he said. “I’m not looking,” I said. “Don’t!” “I won’t!” You get the picture. Well… all I can say is he had to sleep sometime…or deliver his paper route…or whatever. The time finally came, when I was alone with the magical cape. A nervous exuberance coursed through my limbs as I attempted to don the “Red Vestment”. Now, when you are involved in trying on the Superman Cape, things that once seemed second nature become impossible. Remember how hard it was to tie your shoes when you were first learning? How it took so much concentration? I settled on the square knot and slipped it over my head. As I tugged, the cape became lodged under my nose but not quite over my lips. I panicked and with a firm tug it slipped to my neck. It felt great. Soon, I was flying through the house traversing the ledge on the staircase and performing heroic acts of kindness to our dog Susie. In the house that I grew up in, we had a very large enclosed front porch. As I sailed from the living room on to the porch, I made one final loop to gain speed for departure through the porch door into the outside world. There was so much work to be done. As I hit the window in the door, the glass shattered like the illusion I was living. My poor mother was indeed mortified to see this superhero in need of medical attention- but not too mortified- remember she had 5 sons and boys will be boys. However, my bubble was broken. In my book, I was no hero.

Three years ago, I was sitting in the back of this very gym feeling very empty and misdirected. There must be more, I thought There had to be. I was approaching my 35th birthday. What was I suppose to be doing with my life? I kept asking God and then telling God, “Here I am. I’m ready, just send me a sign and I’ll begin whatever it is you need me to do.” It was a very dark time. I had lost my light. I had lost my way! It was quite evident to those who cared about me that I was lost in the wilderness. I was floundering in a job that was sucking the life and energy out of me. I was not really being the Partner, Father and Friend that I wanted to be or was capable of being. I was stuck sitting on the curb of life watching it roll by, waiting for the right opportunity to merge into traffic. The only problem was that I couldn’t get the car started- heck, I couldn’t even find the keys. So for my birthday my wife Kristin gave me a light- a miner’s head lamp until I could find my own. Now you may think this sounds ridiculous, and it does, but in the dark cavern of my journey I needed all the help I could get. It was about this same time in my life that I ran across this quote by Marianne Willamson. The inspiration of these words has had a very profound impact on my life.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated form our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

These words now hang on the door of the refrigerator in my home along with countless drawings, cards, schedules and pictures creating the amazing collage of my family’s life. It is so amazing that this reading is located in the one place where I am sure to see it every day. Many a night, not another soul awake in the house, I have stood in my pajamas at the refrigerator door as I went for a late night snack and my eyes are again drawn to these words. “Our deepest fear…. We were born to make manifest the glory of God.” The spirit moves in mysterious ways. Or does it?

Two years ago, I decided to make a drastic career change which has profoundly changed me. I traded my job in the business community for a position as a classroom teacher of 16 thirteen year olds in the Minnesota Waldorf School. Kristin thought I was nuts! My friends questioned my sanity. Even my parents who are former teachers had doubts.

Sometimes, in life, it is the initial step that is the hardest, and that is what I anticipated. In my case, the whole experience has been more like a long walk on a bed of coals. I have found that working with young people will transform you. You have no choice- you will be changed. You will either be enriched and grow or you will be consumed by the fire of adolescence. Over the course of the past 2 years with this class, I was challenged to my core as I attempted to bring a rich curriculum to my students. But the academic portion of the job paled in comparison to the crucible I found myself immersed in by the issues these young people were carrying. We encountered suicidal tendencies, depression, anger management, juvenile rheumatoid arthritis, parental divorce and family disintegration…not to mention a world in conflict that was full of uncertainty. (These 2 years were bookended by the Sept 11 tragedy and the Iraq war.) I can’t tell you how difficult it was to stand before these bright young people and have them look to me as a model. They were so full of budding idealism but also facing such formidable obstacles in their lives. Had I known, 2 years ago, how difficult and challenging this experience would be, I think I would have turned and ran.

This experience has changed my paradigm of Fatherhood. When I accepted this teaching job, I never expected to play such an important role in young people’s lives. I didn’t consider the possibility of becoming any kind of a father figure. And yet this happened in various and unexpected ways. I had one student, a boy who lost his father to cancer when he was only two, hug me and thank me for being his teacher. I have been transformed. And I must tell you about another young man in the class. I had been forewarned by his previous teacher. Brendan has more energy than is present in this entire room. To say he was a challenge would be the understatement of the century. The last day of school this boy shook my hand and thanked me for being his teacher, and as he turned to leave the room for the last time he stopped, turned around and came back to me. “Mr. Aitchison,” he said, “Do you remember that time last year when we were out in the hall and you told me you wouldn’t let me get myself kicked out of school?” I said, “Yes, Brendan, I do remember.” “Thank you,” he said and turned and bounced out of the room. I will never forget that moment as long as I live. As excruciatingly frustrating and rewarding as it has been to work with this young man, to hear him say this reinforced for me the importance of being a role model, setting boundaries and showing care and consideration. Aren’t those the things that a father does?

I am on the journey of Fatherhood. It is not at all what I expected. There are unexpected dips and curves and not always clear visibility. But I am blessed man. My vision of Fatherhood has blossomed, and I am happy to be a steward of this garden. Today I (we) celebrate all that fatherhood is and all the possibility that it holds. Not every man may be a biological father but there are many ways to father as I found out with my students. There are opportunities for all of us. It may be as close as the person sitting next to you or the kid down the block, your niece or nephew, or your godchild.

(Maybe give some examples of ways that people can father beyond their own nuclear family. Things like being a Big Brother with the Boys Club. Being a scout leader. Coaching a sports team. Brent’s friend Papa Hughes who with his wife adopted 4 Russian children who were getting beyond the adoptable age. Our experience of having international students live with us. Also supporting international children through agencies as we’ve done for the past few years.)

Today’s children need good, moral, Christian Heroes. (Our world doesn’t give us very good role models for heroes.) We are each called, in our own way, to be heroes, but are we willing to accept the mission? On every heroic journey there are thresholds to cross and dragons to slay, but as we face our fears we are opened to the beauty of seeing the face of God. I once was nearly overcome by my work and struggles but now I see that it is in the struggle that the butterfly unfolds its wings. We are all called to let our light shine, to be hope, to be Heroes.

There is a marvelous story of a man who once stood before God, his heart breaking from all the pain and injustice in the world. “Dear God,” he cried out, “Look at all the suffering, the anguish and distress in your world. Why don’t you send help?” God responded, “I did send help. I sent you!”

Happy Fathers Day.