Summary: The focus of this sermon is the important of young boys and men having positive male roles such as fathers, and uncles actively participating in their lives.
By Reverend A. LaMar Torrence,
Cross of Life Lutheran Church
When I read the story of Ishmael, I wonder what he would say to his father Abraham after being cast out of his home. I imaged him as young man who may have one day, sat down and wrote his father a “Dear Dad” letter.
This father’s day instead of buying the traditional tie, watch, golf tee, or something you would probably not used, I decided to send you this letter expressing my most inner thoughts about our relationship. It’s time for us to talk man to man. It’s time for the famous father and son chat. It’s time for us do some male bonding. No longer can I continue to look to the future without dealing with our past. No longer will I hold up pinned frustrations from desiring to express my feelings towards you. I want to come clean and tell you what’s on my mind.
This is a thirsty generation. Young people are looking for answers to many complex situations. Many do not know why they are here. It is evident that for many their births were clearly mistakes. Statistics tells us that approximately two-thirds of African Americans youths are conceived before their time and born out of wedlock. They are interruptions to desired futures and deferred dreams. I count myself lucky that I was planned. The angel of the lord announced my birth. Folks were delighted to hear of my arrival. I was thought to be the promised child. No teenage mother had to hide her stomach in my situation. No one had to consider other options such as abortion and adoption. I was fortunate. When I was born I held in my mother’s arm and blessed by my father. They named me Ishmael meaning God hears. And, I thank God that he hears. I’m thankful that he heard my mother cries when she was at her wit’s end. She did not know what to do. Sarah had turned her out to Abraham to be her surrogate mother. Then later when mom got pregnant with me, Sarah’s jealousy would cause her to runaway into a baring wilderness. But God heard her cry and told her not to worry and not to fret. He would make a way somehow. You see, unlike other newborns, I did not end up in some trashcan abandoned by a crack addicted. I wasn’t born addicted to drugs and going through withdraws and the shakes. I wasn’t born with HIV flowing through my blood or suffering from sickle cell and MS. I was blessed. And that’s important when the mortality rate is higher for minority children than it is for their European-American counterparts. A black child as more obstacles facing him as he matures than his American peers do. Economically, he is crippled. Socially, he is scarred. Politically, he is raped. And spiritually, he is often empty. There is no silver spoon placed in his mouth. In the words of Langston Hughes, “Life for the black child ain’t been no crystal stair. It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, and boards all torn up, and places with no carpet on the floor -- Bare.’ Often too many children come across those bare floors. They are forced to endure the bareness of life.