My Father's Requests

Poem for October 1, 2017      XVII Pentecost      All Saints, Southern Shores, N.C.               Thomas Wilson, Rector

This Sunday is the day that we do the annual Stewardship Drive Kick-off and Communion around Breakfast tables to better allow discussion time about what “Sharing Life and Love” looks like in our lives together as All Saints Church. There is no place for a full sermon so I wrote a poem that relates to the story from the 21^st Chapter of Matthew where Jesus shares a Parable:

When Jesus entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” Jesus said to them, “I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” And they argued with one another, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say to us, ‘Why then did you not believe him?’ But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’ we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet.” So they answered Jesus, “We do not know.” And he said to them, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.

“What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ He answered, ‘I will not’; but later he changed his mind and went. The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.

 I was reminded of the times when my father wanted his children to learn that we were part of a much larger community, and as a way of being part of it, we would help out around the house, help out at the church, and help out in the community. He felt sharing ourselves in love was part of what makes us who we were created to be. I remember working with my father and brother digging drainage ditches for the new Little League Baseball fields we were building and hating the work, sweat, pain and lost opportunities to do my own things: sulking in resentment, looking for any excuse to get out of it. Yet there was something special when we were finished with the shared time together. It was only later that I realized that these were gift times.

My Father’s Requests

My father asked me to help around the house.

I said “Yes” words, but never got around to it.

Again he invited me to help around the house.

I said, “No”, but my duty impelled me to do it.

How often did I confuse these, his invitations,

with ultimatums on my own precious freedom

to which a disapproval with strained relations

followed, withdrawn love; an exile from Eden.

While he might be saddened, my father never

stopped loving me. After he died, I mourned

those shared work opportunities gone forever

because warnings of what little time I ignored.

Since we do not live life backwards; I will guess

that now, and only now’s, my time to do “Yes”.