Bottom of the Ninth

Better known by his stage name, Gordon Sumner played and sang for a decade in a hugely successful eighties band, and followed that with an eclectic, critically-praised solo career. His net worth has been estimated at over half a billion dollars. His father Ernest was a milkman and factory worker. Neither are dishonorable professions, but middle class at best.

On Ernest’s deathbed, he said to Gordon, “Son, you used your hands better than I did.” Gordon’s reaction: “That was the first compliment he’d ever paid me, and the timing was pretty devastating ... and unforgettable.”

Wow. Talk about leaving your best pitch for the bottom of the ninth ...

To be fair, most of Sting’s reflections about his father are both loving and generous, and we should make allowance for the fact that retroactive perceptions about our loved ones are not always precisely accurate. I find a few of my own family members fall prey to the appeal of revisionist history as the years pass. “He never did this” and “She always did that” are generalities; it’s all too easy to overlook exceptions in the interest of building a consistent narrative, justifying a long-held grudge, or winning an old argument. Still, strong, negative impressions about the people we love built over years usually have some legitimate basis in fact. Had Ernest Sumner made a habit of regularly and effusively praising Gordon’s better qualities, it’s unlikely his son would remember him quite the way he does.

The Provocative Dad

Hey, there are better and worse ways to parent. Scripture instructs fathers not to provoke their children to anger. The expression translates a single Greek word we might paraphrase as something like “Do not give your children legitimate cause to be angry with you.”

There are many ways to frustrate a child. Simply thwarting the will of a determined little monster will sometimes do it. That’s not what Paul is talking about. He contrasts provoking a child to anger with bringing him up “in the discipline and instruction of the Lord”, which implies a methodical approach based on long-term goals for the child, as opposed to giving direction arbitrarily or reactively. Moreover, the source of instruction is not generations of accumulated parental wisdom or even common sense, but the scriptures, the “discipline and instruction” of God himself. Such an approach models itself on God’s dealings with his own children as recorded in his word. We are to be like the Lord in our parenting: firm, consistent, keeping our promises … but also affectionate and warm.

A careful reading of the Old Testament shows us a God who is neither gruff and distant nor merely indulgent. When the Lord proclaimed his character to Moses, he described his dealings with Israel this way: “a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin.”

Does this sound like a Father who provokes his children to anger? I didn’t think so either. Moreover, his Old Testament children remember him just as he described himself. The Psalms in particular are full of this.

The Disagreeable Dad

But there are other ways to alienate a child. Sting gave no indication he was angry with his father for the lack of positive feedback he received as a child. Rather, he delivered the line with the wry resignation of a man who eventually came to expect nothing better, who had given up hope that anything about his relationship with his father would ever change.

We call that discouragement, and Paul speaks about it in Colossians, again with regard to fathers and their children. “Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged.” Some translations insert the words “to anger” after “provoke”, presumably following the Ephesians passage, but they are not there in Greek. My ESV again uses the word “provoke”, but the underlying Greek is different here. It means to strive with.

A perpetually disagreeable father wears out his children. They come to believe that’s just the way Dad is. They lose hope, withdraw and learn to keep their opinions to themselves to avoid Dad’s negativity. They may still love him and wish they had his approval, but they learn not to expect it. What a sad situation! Paul did not want the Christian fathers in Colossae to raise children in an atmosphere of resignation and defeat.

Pre-empting the Deathbed Confession

Sting is a senior citizen today as he reflects on his relationship with his father, who died in 1987. Even if he wanted to, Ernest Sumner can change neither his parenting style nor the impression of chronic reserve he left with his son. Likewise, Yours Truly is long past striving with or provoking his children on any kind of regular basis; they too are adults, with long-established views about their parents that may never change.

To a child, a deathbed confession of affection or approval is certainly better than nothing, but it strikes me as a little late. One thing I always appreciated about my own parents is that their parenting techniques changed as they aged. That’s not because they were inconsistent, or became lazy as the family grew in size, but because both kept learning about parenting from the scriptures well into their forties, fifties, sixties and even later. In his nineties, my father asked one of his grandsons to forgive a spanking he once gave him for failing to finish his meal. My son was in his mid-twenties at the time, the uncharacteristic act of discipline decades in the past and a non-factor in their relationship. Nevertheless, that conversation was worth having. It’s an interaction with his grandfather my son remembers most vividly.

Whether we notice it or not, we all have long established patterns of character and behavior that are perfectly obvious to others around us. The difference between the believer and the unbeliever is that we can learn to change ours, even if it’s awfully late in the ball game.

But don’t wait for the deathbed. That’s just a little too risky.