By Travis Trombley | |
Biological dads (or parents in general, really) don’t last long in heroic stories. Richard Parker, Thomas Wayne, Jor-El, Howard Stark, Anakin Skywalker, Richard Croft, John Grayson, Jack Murdock, James Potter - just to name a few - met their demises before being able to fulfill their roles as fathers to the children they sired. But that doesn’t mean their children went without dads.
And I’m not just referring to men who act out the more mundane, day-to-day roles of “dad”: making the same awkward joke to waitresses when going out to eat, helping their adult children diagnose and fix automotive issues because they let their kids watch Star Wars repeatedly in their youth rather than forcing them to learn valuable life skills, nursing an unhealthy affinity for bacon, helping their adult children do their taxes because - well, taxes are hard and public school didn’t cover such specific skills in any AP classes. (Okay, so those are specific to my dad, but I highly doubt they’re exclusive...). The label of father, though, comes with much weight.
During the Fathers Day sermon at Elevate Church in Monroe, Pastor Adam Davis spoke about the required role of spiritual fathers. He cited 1 Corinthians 4: 15-16, in which Paul says, “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel. I urge you, then, be imitators of me” (ESV). In other words, instructors are plentiful, but fathers, in God’s sense of the word - quite literally the imitation of God as “father” - are few.
Of course, spiritual fathers (or mothers) need not be biological fathers. Spiritual fathers, Davis says, cultivate connection, calling, and courage with those whom they mentor. I would add to this list the practice of correction.
Many father figures in pop culture provide these much needed services for young heroes and heroines. And in fact, many spiritual fathers in heroic media aren’t actually their beneficiaries’ natural fathers. Alfred, Jonathan Kent, the Jonathan Kent ripoff character from the Disney version of Hercules, Uncle Ben, Old Ben Kenobi, etc., all help their adoptive “sons” find the right path by means of the aforementioned traits.
Another standout father among this group is Captain Christopher Pike from J.J. Abrams’ two most recent Star Trek films. In these films, Pike fulfills the father role young James T. Kirk, whose biological father (played by a clean-shaven Thor) sacrificed himself to save an entire ship’s worth of people.
At the beginning of the first film, Pike finds Kirk, now a man in his mid twenties, assumably, beaten after a bar brawl. After clearing the country dive, Pike sits with the bleeding Kirk in an attempt to convince him to join Starfleet. But Pike doesn’t talk of his personal accomplishments or Starfleet’s many benefits; instead he connects to Kirk by highlighting his aptitudes. He praises young Kirk for possessing the same “leap without looking” mentality as Kirk senior, whom Pike admired. Kirk resists the mentorship, dismissing Pike by scoffing, “Why are you even talking to me, man,” yet Pike pushes inward, determined to connect. Pike acknowledges Kirk’s wounds: “So your dad dies. You can settle for a less than ordinary life. But you feel like you were meant for better. Something special.”
And I’m not just referring to men who act out the more mundane, day-to-day roles of “dad”: making the same awkward joke to waitresses when going out to eat, helping their adult children diagnose and fix automotive issues because they let their kids watch Star Wars repeatedly in their youth rather than forcing them to learn valuable life skills, nursing an unhealthy affinity for bacon, helping their adult children do their taxes because - well, taxes are hard and public school didn’t cover such specific skills in any AP classes. (Okay, so those are specific to my dad, but I highly doubt they’re exclusive...). The label of father, though, comes with much weight.
During the Fathers Day sermon at Elevate Church in Monroe, Pastor Adam Davis spoke about the required role of spiritual fathers. He cited 1 Corinthians 4: 15-16, in which Paul says, “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel. I urge you, then, be imitators of me” (ESV). In other words, instructors are plentiful, but fathers, in God’s sense of the word - quite literally the imitation of God as “father” - are few.
Of course, spiritual fathers (or mothers) need not be biological fathers. Spiritual fathers, Davis says, cultivate connection, calling, and courage with those whom they mentor. I would add to this list the practice of correction.
Many father figures in pop culture provide these much needed services for young heroes and heroines. And in fact, many spiritual fathers in heroic media aren’t actually their beneficiaries’ natural fathers. Alfred, Jonathan Kent, the Jonathan Kent ripoff character from the Disney version of Hercules, Uncle Ben, Old Ben Kenobi, etc., all help their adoptive “sons” find the right path by means of the aforementioned traits.
Another standout father among this group is Captain Christopher Pike from J.J. Abrams’ two most recent Star Trek films. In these films, Pike fulfills the father role young James T. Kirk, whose biological father (played by a clean-shaven Thor) sacrificed himself to save an entire ship’s worth of people.
At the beginning of the first film, Pike finds Kirk, now a man in his mid twenties, assumably, beaten after a bar brawl. After clearing the country dive, Pike sits with the bleeding Kirk in an attempt to convince him to join Starfleet. But Pike doesn’t talk of his personal accomplishments or Starfleet’s many benefits; instead he connects to Kirk by highlighting his aptitudes. He praises young Kirk for possessing the same “leap without looking” mentality as Kirk senior, whom Pike admired. Kirk resists the mentorship, dismissing Pike by scoffing, “Why are you even talking to me, man,” yet Pike pushes inward, determined to connect. Pike acknowledges Kirk’s wounds: “So your dad dies. You can settle for a less than ordinary life. But you feel like you were meant for better. Something special.”
Likewise, fathers must connect with those for whom they take responsibility. They need to take the time to reach out and form a relationship by confronting tough issues. A teacher cannot be a spiritual father to every student. There isn't time to make the intimate connection with so many. This post requires one to invest special attention and resources.
Additionally, Pike serves as a spiritual father to Kirk by cultivating in him a sense of calling. In the same bar scene from the 2009 reboot, Pike tells invites Kirk to the shipyard the following morning to join Starfleet. He leaves Kirk with a challenge: “Your father was captain of a starship for 12 minutes. He saved 800 lives, including yours and your mother’s. I dare you to better.” Again in the sequel, Into Darkness, Pike finds Kirk seeking solace at the bottom of a glass after he lost command of the Enterprise. But rather than chastise, Pike again helps Kirk find his calling by making him the first officer: “I saw greatness in you. . . . I believe in you,” he says.
Spiritual fathers like Pike know the importance of linking their children (again, biological or spiritual) to a sense of purpose. They affirm in those they father the fact that they have the potential for greatness inside, and they push them to find that purpose. The Bible - both Old and New Testaments - brims with examples of God calling his children to calling, be it simply the purpose driven life or a specific calling. As such, so too should spiritual fathers foster the same growth in those they call son or daughter.
Third, Pike helps Kirk cultivate his courage by providing opportunity. Like a father helps a child face fears of swimming by challenging them to swim with the assurance of the father’s presence, so too does Pike give Kirk opportunities to face fears.
Lastly, Pike serves in a corrective manner for the hotheaded Kirk as well. Their first meeting, though primarily about connection, is also a form of correction. Pike scolds the young Kirk for squandering his natural gifts. Later, in Into Darkness, after Kirk violates the Prime Directive to save an indigenous people from a volcano, Pike lectures Kirk on the responsibilities of command: “I gave you my ship because I saw greatness in you, but now I see you don’t have an ounce of humility. . . . You think you’re infallible, that you can’t make a mistake. You think the rules are for other people, and what’s worse is you’re using blind luck to justify playing God.” Kirk would have likely met such a rebuke from any other with rebellious resistance, only solidifying his ego, but from Pike the words pierce deep and set the stage for his (potential) character change by the film’s end.
This role of the father is important, practically and biblically (not that two are at all exclusive). People - especially children - mess up. It is only the neurotic parent of all A students who sees anything less than perfection as an indictment. A growth mindset means embracing the inevitability of mistakes and failure as means to improvement, but such improvement requires a guide. This is acknowledged many times in the Bible (Hebrews 12:5-6 & Proverbs 3:11-12 are two examples), tying God’s corrective role as father to the role of spiritual father.
I say this all not in an attempt to be preachy (the Christian framework is my framework, and so it provides much of my means for understanding, but in this case, especially, the principles seem generalizable), but in an attempt to show gratitude, for my father is a grand spiritual father for my brother and I. He took the time to connect to us, regardless of personal cost - from watching Twister so many times the VHS burnt out, to camping trips, to attending every sporting event in which we ever participated. He cultivated our sense of calling by never letting us forget that we can in fact accomplish great things, and he made sure he provided every opportunity by which we might explore avenues for such accomplishments. He developed our courage by pushing us past childish and adult fears, alike, from monsters under the bead to paying for college or asking for a girl’s hand in marriage. And yes, he corrected us when necessary, always with a note of disappointment followed by an expectation to the better men he knows us to be.
As Kirk owes his success and fulfillment to Pike, I owe whatever success and fulfillment I find to my father, Tom Trombley, and to our father in heaven, to whom my dad introduced me with a faith backed by consistent behavior and prayers - silent or collaborative - at my bedside every night while growing up.
Here's to fathers.
Additionally, Pike serves as a spiritual father to Kirk by cultivating in him a sense of calling. In the same bar scene from the 2009 reboot, Pike tells invites Kirk to the shipyard the following morning to join Starfleet. He leaves Kirk with a challenge: “Your father was captain of a starship for 12 minutes. He saved 800 lives, including yours and your mother’s. I dare you to better.” Again in the sequel, Into Darkness, Pike finds Kirk seeking solace at the bottom of a glass after he lost command of the Enterprise. But rather than chastise, Pike again helps Kirk find his calling by making him the first officer: “I saw greatness in you. . . . I believe in you,” he says.
Spiritual fathers like Pike know the importance of linking their children (again, biological or spiritual) to a sense of purpose. They affirm in those they father the fact that they have the potential for greatness inside, and they push them to find that purpose. The Bible - both Old and New Testaments - brims with examples of God calling his children to calling, be it simply the purpose driven life or a specific calling. As such, so too should spiritual fathers foster the same growth in those they call son or daughter.
Third, Pike helps Kirk cultivate his courage by providing opportunity. Like a father helps a child face fears of swimming by challenging them to swim with the assurance of the father’s presence, so too does Pike give Kirk opportunities to face fears.
Lastly, Pike serves in a corrective manner for the hotheaded Kirk as well. Their first meeting, though primarily about connection, is also a form of correction. Pike scolds the young Kirk for squandering his natural gifts. Later, in Into Darkness, after Kirk violates the Prime Directive to save an indigenous people from a volcano, Pike lectures Kirk on the responsibilities of command: “I gave you my ship because I saw greatness in you, but now I see you don’t have an ounce of humility. . . . You think you’re infallible, that you can’t make a mistake. You think the rules are for other people, and what’s worse is you’re using blind luck to justify playing God.” Kirk would have likely met such a rebuke from any other with rebellious resistance, only solidifying his ego, but from Pike the words pierce deep and set the stage for his (potential) character change by the film’s end.
This role of the father is important, practically and biblically (not that two are at all exclusive). People - especially children - mess up. It is only the neurotic parent of all A students who sees anything less than perfection as an indictment. A growth mindset means embracing the inevitability of mistakes and failure as means to improvement, but such improvement requires a guide. This is acknowledged many times in the Bible (Hebrews 12:5-6 & Proverbs 3:11-12 are two examples), tying God’s corrective role as father to the role of spiritual father.
I say this all not in an attempt to be preachy (the Christian framework is my framework, and so it provides much of my means for understanding, but in this case, especially, the principles seem generalizable), but in an attempt to show gratitude, for my father is a grand spiritual father for my brother and I. He took the time to connect to us, regardless of personal cost - from watching Twister so many times the VHS burnt out, to camping trips, to attending every sporting event in which we ever participated. He cultivated our sense of calling by never letting us forget that we can in fact accomplish great things, and he made sure he provided every opportunity by which we might explore avenues for such accomplishments. He developed our courage by pushing us past childish and adult fears, alike, from monsters under the bead to paying for college or asking for a girl’s hand in marriage. And yes, he corrected us when necessary, always with a note of disappointment followed by an expectation to the better men he knows us to be.
As Kirk owes his success and fulfillment to Pike, I owe whatever success and fulfillment I find to my father, Tom Trombley, and to our father in heaven, to whom my dad introduced me with a faith backed by consistent behavior and prayers - silent or collaborative - at my bedside every night while growing up.
Here's to fathers.
