Fatherhood: A Vocation that Conforms you to the Father
November of this year, at 11:22am, my wife gave birth to our beautiful baby boy. Being our first, you can imagine that it was the most physically and psychologically demanding moment of both of our lives. For my part, the psychological strain was almost unbearable. My wife labored for 29 hours and had elected for an unmedicated delivery, which left me watching the love of my life suffer with no ability to alleviate any of her pain. All I could do is hold her hand and help her breath through each contraction, which of course, made me feel like I was doing nothing, but per my wife, helped immensely. At nine centimeters dilated, my wife’s water had not broken, and both at our breaking point, she opted for an epidural. A moment of relief, or so we thought.
Unfortunately, due to some complications and reactions, we had to stop the epidural drip, leaving my wife little options for pain management. After some time had passed, another opportunity to reintroduce the epidural was offered, however, we did not know if the same complication would present itself a second time. If it did, the labor would have been extended with no real assurance that it would work. Realizing that we were trying to avoid the cross when Our Lord was asking us to embrace it, we abandoned ourselves to Divine Providence, prayed an Our Father, and made the decision to have my wife’s water broken. To the glory of Jesus Christ, our son came into the world forty minutes later. Witnessing the extent that my wife had suffered to bring our son into the world, for me, was the beginning of Fatherhood.
In his Apostolic Exhortation Familiaris Consortio, St. John Paul II wrote that it is “in his wife” that the husband “sees the fulfillment of God's intention: It is not good that the man should be alone, I will make him a helper fit for him”.[1] She became my helper, bringing me into moments that reflect how the Father sees us, His children, in loving us as we wander this valley of tears. St. John Paul II continues, “Love for his wife as mother of their children and love for the children themselves are for the man the natural way of understanding and fulfilling his own fatherhood.”[2] Every pang and tear shed from my wife brought me deeper and deeper in love with her, so much that I felt it would spill over with no cup to catch a single drop. Until I gazed into the face of my son, the beginning of my own paternal completion. A vessel, infinite in potential, to receive the love of his Father.
In gazing upon my son, the model of the greatest in the kingdom of heaven, I loved him.[3] The Father in heaven does the same with you and me. He sees us as His own, loving us into existence, and then yearning for us to trust him unconditionally, as a newborn does. That complete surrendering to Him, is where the process of Sainthood begins. "Therefore all human beings are called to sanctity, which ultimately means living as God’s children, in that 'likeness' to him according to which mankind was created."[4] He has formed us, some to be great Saints, and others solely to look upon and delight in. St. Thérèse of Lisieux speaks to this realty in her Story of the Soul:
“Our Lord has deigned to explain this mystery to me. He showed me the book of nature, and I understood that every flower created by Him is beautiful, that the brilliance of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not lessen the perfume of the violet or the sweet simplicity of the daisy. I understood that if all the lowly flowers wished to be roses, nature would lose its springtide beauty, and the fields would no longer be enameled with lovely hues. And so it is in the world of souls, Our Lord’s living garden. He has been pleased to create great Saints who may be compared to the lily and the rose, but He has also created lesser ones, who must be content to be daisies or simple violets flowering at His Feet, and whose mission it is to gladden His Divine Eyes when He deigns to look down on them.”[5]
In the vocation of fatherhood, we are conformed to the Father through the love that we pour into our wives and children. It is in the moments of self-denial, which is the space that virtue increases, that we reflect the Father the most. My son has done nothing for me to love him, no reason except to simply be. Likewise, we have done nothing for the Father to love us. Our existence is a result of His love. When my son cries, I dry his tears and comfort him. When he is hungry, I feed him. When we suffer, the Father dries our tears and comforts us. When we are hungry, he feeds us with the Eucharist, the very Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of His only Begotten Son. We as father, get to embody caritas itself, thus aligning ourselves with the goal of the Father in heaven, an eternity of Him pouring out His love on us.
[1] “Familiaris Consortio (November 22, 1981): John Paul II.” Familiaris Consortio (November 22, 1981) | John Paul II, November 21, 1981. https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/apost_exhortations/documents/hf_jp-ii_exh_19811122_familiaris-consortio.html.
[2] ibid
[3] “At that time the disciples approached Jesus and said, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a child over, placed it in their midst, and said, “Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me.” Matthew 18:1-5
[4] Opusdei.org. “Pope Benedict XVI: ‘Every Christian Is Called to Be a Saint.’” Opus Dei, November 8, 2007. https://opusdei.org/en-us/article/pope-benedict-xvi-every-christian-is-called-to-be-a-saint/.
[5] MaestroJMC. “St. Therese of Lisieux - Flowers in God’s Garden.” St. Therese of Lisieux - Flowers in God’s Garden, January 1, 1970. https://foretasteofwisdom.blogspot.com/2013/03/st-therese-of-lisieux-flowers-in-gods.html.