It’s been thirty years since he passed, but I still think about my Dad every day.
I’ve been on the planet as long without Dad’s physical presence as with it. It’s a symmetry I no longer dread to think about. Some of Dad shows up in me every day. In simple ways – like putting cream in my coffee, and making sure it’s the just-right color and temperature before I take it in. That’s after 40 years of taking it black at any temperature, no questions asked, period, thank you very much.
Like puttering in the yard, and I do mean puttering. Engaging the process at least as much as the project because the goal, I have discovered, is to never quite be done. I finally figured that out, and it’s a total Dad thing. The time spent in a putter worth its salt is time spent contemplating, trying to put myself in my kids’ places so I can have an intelligent conversation with them about their lives and decisions, wondering why I couldn’t see the human side of the apostle Paul’s letters earlier in life, seeking a simpler faith and cutting through layers of complication I wish I could have avoided in the first place. God bless dandelions and out-of-place pea gravel for providing the haven that allows the Wamberg men to think.
It’s Dad. It’s me. And it’s Dad, and it’s me, and it’s Dad-and-me, and it’s only reinforced when I’m with one of my siblings, when it becomes Dad squared and us.
It’s Advent, and it’s a time to think of gifts and giving, and for me it is a special time to honor my Dad because today – Wednesday the 21st of December 2017 – marks the 103rd anniversary of my dad’s birth, and I want to honor that by acknowledging both the gift that Dad still is for me, and the very important gift he gave his children. That gift is this: he made it possible for us to both know and understand him through his example and care. I can best explain it through the observation I made the week following his death, when the five of us were gathered at the house we had once shared. It was there, as we compared notes, that we realized Dad’s efforts to prepare each of us for his absence. He had been very intentional about it. He spent the time he could to lay out options, discuss what-ifs, and share his mind and feelings about life, the universe and everything. None of us had exactly the same discussions with Dad, but after a few days together, we began to realize that Dad had left each of us with a pretty good idea of what he wanted for Mom, and how to continue with our own lives in ways that would reflect at least part of his character. At times, we realized we were completing sentences and answering questions for Dad – accurately – without a second thought.
Dad had taught us in ever-closer relationship what it meant to be his children. We were able to represent Dad and his wishes because Dad had made himself clear to us as adults, and had prepared us to receive that kind of clarity for years before that. That week, we could represent Dad in comforting his longstanding business associates, and encouraging his Thursday morning donuts-and-coffee buddies, and telling his stories to the next generation. It was never about replacing him. It was about explaining him; making him known. We continue to embody Dad in our various ways every day. It is right and good, and I pray these two things for you today: first, that you have someone in your life to represent in truth and love; and second, that someone in your life seeks to represent you in their own lives someday, if not today.
It’s Advent, and Dad would ask me to remind you to take a few moments to consider the very important gift that God has given to us, his children. That gift is God’s decision to make himself known and understood through Jesus. God is very intentional about his dwelling among us, about preparing each of us for His presence. God means to be understood through Jesus and his actions, his teaching, his compassion for the poor and zeal for embodied faith that does justice and loves mercy and walks humbly and keeps exploding into new life and possibilities.
Incarnation. Word made flesh. It’s Jesus. It’s God. And it’s Jesus, and it’s God, and it’s God-and-Jesus, and it’s only reinforced when we add the Holy Spirit to the discussion, when maybe it becomes God cubed. (Maybe.)
Jesus –the Word made flesh who dwells among us today through the Holy Spirit– is able to represent God because somehow, wonderfully, they share an ever-closer relationship that transcends time probably laying out options, discussing what-ifs, and sharing their mind and feelings about life, the universe and everything.
And a miracle: we are invited into that relationship, to receive him, as John’s gospel says in its early thoughts.
Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
(John testified concerning him. He cried out, saying, “This is the one I spoke about when I said, ‘He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.’”) Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known.
You see, God desires to teach us in ever-closer relationship what it means to be his children. Thanks to the great gift who is Jesus, we have the opportunity to represent God to our business associates, our Thursday morning donuts-and-coffee buddies, and to the next generation. Just like Dad did. Just like I hope to do.
It’s about explaining God; making him known. Jesus did that for us, so we can do that for others. Word and action. Character, not so much clichés. A lot like my dad. Maybe a lot like you.
I am blessed to see my dad, Don Wamberg, every day in my kids, my grandkids, my siblings and their kids and grandkids, and in so many that we love. And I am blessed to see the Creator of the Universe so very often in each of you reading this, as we seek to embody – yes, incarnate – the Life Who is Christ Jesus for each other and for a watching and waiting world. As Jesus has made God known to us, let us make Jesus known through us. Let us be full of grace and truth and the very life of Christ, right here and now, right where we live.
–Steve Wamberg