It was a dark and stormy night and mom came into the bedroom to calm her small son.  She tucked him in carefully, gave him a kiss and assured him everything would be all right.  As she left the room, she heard him say, "Mommy, I'm scared.  Can you sleep in my room tonight?"  Mommy went back, gave him another kiss and said, "No honey, I need to sleep with your father tonight."  As she left the room she heard a little voice say, "The big sissy!"

          Well, it's Father's Day and it's good to see fathers in church.  People often say on Mother's Day the churches are full and on Father's Day the golf courses are full, but I am glad so many fathers are here worshipping the Lord today.

          The Bible calls God our Father.  It gives Him male qualities and attributes.  Strictly speaking God is neither male nor female, but God chooses to reveal Himself to us as Father, to help us know what He is like.  We learn from Jesus to pray, "Our Father in heaven."  I doubt there are fathers here today who want to be likened to God, and yet young children often see them that way.  Mothers, most of all, know fathers are not God.  But a good father is about the best earthly example we have of God.

          Dr. Martin Luther, in explaining the meaning of the introduction to the Lord's Prayer, wrote in his Small Catechism, "God would by these words tenderly invite us to believe that He is our true father and we are His true children; so that we may with all boldness and confidence ask Him as dear children ask their dear father."

          God wants to be our Father, our true and Holy Father, the one who never does His children wrong.  Earthly fathers mess up.  They try their best but don't always do it.  Some people look back on their fathers with anger.  They see harshness, or weakness, or meanness.  I look back and see a small farmer, gentle with most, but a fiery temper with some.  I realized last week that I had never spoken publicly about my father, so if you will allow me, I want to do that this morning.  I would like to introduce you to a good man now at rest with the Lord.  I do this because on Father's Day he deserves it.

          Ed Tasler, my father, was born in 1898 of Austrian immigrants, the oldest of nine.  His parents were devout Catholic farmers.  Ed attended school until the 8th grade and then worked as a farmhand.  In 1922, he met a young woman named Martha and after a courtship of 8 years, they were married on a cold February day.  They were blessed with 5 children; I am the youngest.

          Ed loved the land and his family.  He was too young for WWI and too old for WWII, but in time three of his sons would become soldiers.  In the early years, we all spoke German around the house, at least we started school.  Dad respected education, so when all of us children graduated from High School and two from college, he was especially proud.  At age 79, he organized a reunion of those who attended Maple Grove rural school between 1914 and 1918.  Fourteen people attended, including their teacher, who was 95. Dad always said, "They can't take away your learning."

          During their first years of marriage, Dad and Mom argued some about religion.  Mom wanted him to become Lutheran, because he had long forsaken Catholicism.  She finally stopped talking about it after he threatened to sell the 3 cows she had received as a wedding dowry.  But then, without her knowledge, he began instruction with a new pastor in town, a man named Rev. Henry Brill.  And one day in May he announced he was going to join church that following Sunday.  "You can't do that," she said. "You have to be instructed first."  I'm told he smiled at her when he said, "What do you think I've been doing each week when I go to town for groceries?" It was a proud day when he joined Our Savior's Lutheran Church.

          The Taslers and the Brills became good friends, and Dad soon developed into the man of faith the church knew him to be.  Just before Pastor Brill moved away, he baptized the Taslers' youngest baby boy, Robert Lee.  Over the years Dad served as Deacon and Elder and often taught Sunday Bible Class when Pastor was absent.  Dad retired in 1963, the year I left for college.  He and Mom sold the farm to my brother in 1977 and moved to town.

          When Dad died at age 97, the church was packed for his funeral.  Though he had been in a nursing home five years, some 350 Lutherans, Catholics, old neighbors and young friends came to say goodbye.  And he left behind a family that numbered 85 children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and sons- and daughters-in-law.  And when I go back to my hometown, people there still say to me, "You're Ed Tasler's youngest, aren't you?"  I guess it's true, that back home you never really get to grow up.

          My father was no hero.  He wrote no books, invented no machines, climbed no mountains and set no records.  But he was admired by a lot of people.  I don't remember much of what he said, but I will always remember the kind of man he was.  He wanted us kids to do something good in life, to help others and make a difference.  He taught us faith and life by example.  If we broke it, he helped us fix it; if we made a mistake, he let us learn from it, and if we needed money - well, he gave us a buck or two and then told us to get to work and earn the rest.  He was an earthy man who laughed at a good story and cried at his mother's funeral.  He was many things to us all:  father, husband, brother, farmer, friend, card player, story teller and grandpa.  He was strong but gentle, strict but kind, small in stature yet larger than life to me.  And though somewhat of a prude, his occasional cussing could make a cow blush.

          Dad didn't display affection much until when we got married and our wives started hugging him.  He always said his proudest day was when I was ordained.  My proudest day with him came one spring when we finished up planting a wet field together.  We were both soaked, but he shook my muddy hand, looked me in the eye, and said, "We did it - thank you!"  His look of pride has always stayed with me, because I think that was the day my Dad told me, in his own way, that I measured up to being his son.

          A good father makes sure his family knows Jesus the Lord.  A good and loving father puts his God first and his family second, and then his own needs.  A good father is the best example we have of our good and loving God.  That's why Jesus told us we should pray, "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name."

          Our true and best father is God Himself.  He gives life to us all.  He sustains us with all we need.  We say in the Apostle's Creed, "I believe in God the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth."  Dr. Martin Luther explains those words as follows:  "I believe that God has made me and all creatures, that He has given me my body and soul, eyes, ears and all my members, my reason and all my senses, and still preserves them... He richly and daily provides me with all that I need to support this body and life.  He defends me from all danger, guards and protects me from all evil, and all this purely out of fatherly divine mercy, without any merit or worthiness in me."

          God is our true Father and He is always there for us.  He knows we need Him, so He is ready to help.  He sent Jesus to forgive us even before we were born.  He prepared the precious gift of forgiveness even before we need it.

          I've told you this story before, but it's worth repeating.  I wrecked Dad's car one night when I was 17.  I was okay but his car wasn't.  Details aren't important here, but I did wake Dad up at 1 AM in the morning, and told him the news.  He opened one eye and said, "Are you okay?"  "Yes," I said,  "but the car isn't."  "Go to bed," he said, "We'll look at it in the morning."  The next morning we looked at the car and he told me something I've never forgotten.  "I always figured you'd do something like this.  The other boys did, and I knew sooner or later you would too.  I'm glad you're not hurt."

          That's the last he ever said of it, because I think he had already forgiven me.  He knew I would mess up one day, and he had already forgiven me for it - in advance - just like God does for each of us.  He knew we would mess up in life, so He forgave us - in advance - through Jesus, because He knew we'd need it.  St. Paul said, "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8)   That's the love of a real Father!

          And that's what God is - a real Father.  That's why Luther also wrote, "For all this, it is my duty to thank and praise, to serve and obey Him.  This is most certainly true."  Our earthly fathers deserve our obedience, love and respect.  Our true Father in heaven deserves even more - our highest and best - our faith and absolute trust.  He deserves our very selves in service to Him.  I guess that's why I chose to enter this calling.  God made me worthy in His Son, Jesus, and that's worth telling others who don't know it.

          There are lots of humorous Father's Day stories out there.  But I think I'll spare you hearing them.  Today I just want to give thanks for our fathers, and especially for God, our good and true Father.  Amen!

Copyright © 2006 by Pastor Bob Tasler.  All rights reserved.