Of June and Fathers

Once June arrives, it’s time to look forward to the summer heat, but not before we rejoice in the beauty of God’s creation one last time, for the bounty of spring’s new life: trees in full leaf now, mockingbirds singing their constantly shifting mimicry of joyous songs, doves cooing overhead, wasps busy catching spiders and encasing them in their mud nests with their eggs; wood ducks and blue birds hatching babies in their boxes scattered around the property.

It all reminds me of one of my dad’s favorite hymns, with the first verse here: This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears All nature sings, and round me rings The music of the spheres. This is my Father’s world, I rest me in the thought Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas: His hand the wonders wrought.

This was written by Maltbie Davenport Babcock, a minister who lived on the shores of Lake Ontario in upstate New York. He set out daily on a walk “to see my Father’s world,” which took him along high lakeshore cliffs with gorgeous views, and Babcock wrote this poem, later set to music by Franklin Sheppard, sometime before his death in 1901.

The poem was once widely sung, but fell victim to concern by many for the sensitivities of family abuse victims, some of whom have great difficulty in holding onto faith in a “father-figure” God. I do wish there were another word we could substitute in this hymn for “Father” that would put it firmly back into the frequently-sung category, but it’s hard to think of one, or otherwise it would already have been done.

Just like for some of us whose relationships with our mothers can be strained, or even torn apart altogether, the father-child relationship can surely be broken, and not just from actual abuse. Sometimes, it’s estrangement between the parents themselves (in divorce, for example) that creates a distance that cannot be bridged between kids and their fathers (or mothers).

For whatever reason family relationships of any sort are broken, our ability to celebrate the life we have been given can be rejuvenated sometimes by our spending time in nature. Nature is just outside our windows when we are homebound. And if windows are not available or provide no actual view to the outside, then cut flowers and houseplants bring nature indoors for us to marvel at the beauty of God’s creation.

Just now, I have two plants in bloom on my windowsill in the kitchen, which faces the east so the morning sunlight filters in through the blinds. It’s enough light to generate blossoms on an orchid plant and a pot of African violets (pink flowers just beginning to open). The latter was a gift from a friend who was moving away, since both of us had mothers who grew violets.

The ability to rejoice in creation, of course, is challenged now by what seems to be Mother Nature’s displeasure at climate change, with the violence of thunderstorms and the increased frequency of tornados and flooding and wildfires, and even clear-weather turbulence affecting airline flights. Even so, the birds are busy, the wasps are determined, the plants are fruitful, the gardens produce (great tomatoes just now!). . .

And so we rejoice with the Reverend Babcock: This is my Father’s world; why should my heart be sad?

The Lord is King, let the heavens ring; God reigns, let the earth be glad!

A belated Happy Father’s Day, have a great June and the rest of summer, and God bless us, one and all, dear readers!