A Fathers' Day Sermon on the Battle For Discipline

Today we salute our fathers. Few of you are fathers of young children, but I have a message for you and for all of the mothers, too.

I think being a good father today is one of the most difficult roles there is. This has not always been true. When I first became a father, the father’s role was rather simple. We were expected to work hard at our job to provide a nice home and enough food for our children. It was the mother who was expected to raise the children.

Today all of that has changed -- and I think the changes are good and right -- the father has an equal responsibility for raising children. But the changes in roles has brought added pressures and expectations. I think two of the most difficult roles in today’s society are (1) the mother in the workplace and (2) the father in the home. Because of these changes in our society, the church’s responsibility for giving support and guidance to fathers is even more imperative.

Listen to these words of Moses from over three thousand years ago, from the book of Deuteronomy:

When I went to Jerusalem several years ago, our hotel rooms had a little box over each door. I learned that the boxes contained the Torah -- the words of Moses. And I saw men with little bags attached to the backs of their hands and on their foreheads. These were the Jewish "literalists" who were trying to be obedient to this scripture. But like most literalists, I think they make a mockery of what the scripture is about. I think this scripture is about disciplining ourselves and our children. I think this scripture is about good parenting.

A Sarasota, Florida, couple made the newspapers a while back. They earned this publicity by instructing their teenagers on the ins and outs of the family business. The family business happened to be armed robbery. This couple was thoroughly schooling their teenage sons in such tools of the trade as AK-47 assault rifles, police scanners, escape routes, surveillance and survival gear, and disguises. They carefully taught them hand-to-hand combat and they were expected to memorize police codes and map layouts. After each robbery the boys were debriefed, and their mistakes were spotted and corrected.

The crazy part is that these parents were far more serious about disciplining their boys for armed robbery than many Christian parents are about teaching their children about life and God. Do you know that the word "discipline" means "educating, training"? It is the same root word as "Disciple." We become disciples of Christ by being educated, trained in the ways of Christ. To be a disciple of Christ is to be controlled by Christ. You have heard me say that in the children’s sermon for years.

This kind of discipline and control is not easy, but we must teach our children to be disciples -- to be disciplined -- to be in control.

I want to say a few words to our fathers and grandfathers -- and to all of us -- about the battle for discipline. A little boy scraped a chair across the kitchen floor and climbed on it to reach the cookie jar on the top shelf. His mother heard the noise and called out, "What are you doing in there?" With his hand in the cookie jar, the child replied, "I’m fighting temptation." Battling for discipline!

It has been said that there are only two pains in life -- the pain of discipline and the pain of regret, and the discipline weighs ounces while regret weighs tons.

There are many of us who can identify with the Apostle Paul when he says to the Romans, "I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate ... For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?"

Can there be a more relevant passage of Scripture for many of us? The battle for discipline!

Plato once said, "For a man to conquer himself is the first and noblest of all virtues." The English writer, John Milton, put it like this: "He who reigns within himself and rules his passions, desires and fears, is more than a king."

The question for our fathers -- and for all of us -- is how is it done? How can we discipline ourselves and how can we teach our children and grandchildren this discipline -- this control of our lives?

We must begin by acknowledging that nobody can do it for us. The battle is our own. Nobody can fight it for us.

I read a parable the other day about a forester named Sam. Old Sam would be out chopping down the tree. You could hear him say one phrase: "Oh, Adam. Oh, Adam. Oh, Adam." Every time he hit that tree, he’d say, "Oh, Adam." One day the foreman came by and asked him, "How come every time you hit the tree, you say, "O, Adam"? Sam said, "Because Adam, my forefather, sinned against God. God cursed him and said he would have to work from that time on. So every time I hit this ax against the tree, it reminds me that if Adam hadn’t sinned, I wouldn’t have to work"

One day his supervisor came and said, "Come here, Sam." He took him to his big, plush, palatial ten-thousand-square-foot mansion. He said, It’s all yours. You can live in it; you can do whatever you want. You’ve got a swimming pool, a tennis court, servants -- everything. Everything in this house is yours. I’m giving it to you because I don’t want you to struggle with that Adam mentality. I ask only one thing: Don’t lift up the box on the dining room table. Enjoy everything else in the house, be what you want to be, do your own thing, but that box on the dining room table, do not touch." Sam said, "No problem, I can handle it." So Sam played tennis every day, went swimming, ate three meals a day. But after about five months, he saw that box. That bothered him. He wanted to know why, if he can have anything, that box was so important. He said, "No, I’m not going to touch it; I’m not going to jeopardize my time here." After a year he had tried everything. He had gotten used to everything. There was nothing new anymore. There was only one thing new in that house, and that was that box. And so one day, when nobody was looking, he lifted up the box -- just a little bit. Out of that box ran a little, teeny mouse that hid, and Sam couldn’t catch it and couldn’t find it. The supervisor came and noted that the box had been lifted. He went to Sam and said, "Now Sam, I warned you. Get back out into the forest and pick up your ax and chop again." The next time the supervisor came by, he heard Sam saying, "Oh Sam, Oh Sam."

Isn’t that a delightful little parable that carries an important truth? We begin to win the battle for discipline, first of all, when we recognize that nobody can do it for us.

In the second place, we begin to the win the battle for discipline when we acknowledge that we can do better. We can do better.

When they were introducing a piece of classical music on the radio recently by the famous composer, Mozart, the announcer told about the instructions he wrote on the sheet music. He instructed the pianist to play faster -- then Mozart said to play as fast as possible. A little later the score said, "faster still." Now that’s discipline

I know you won’t believe this, but I used to be in fantastic physical condition. Yes I was. I could run for miles and not be exhausted. I once made a bet that I could remain in deep water for twelve hours, and while I was never called, I still believe I could have done it. Do you know how I got in this great condition? It was while I was a Flight Leader in the Air Force at Kessler Field, Mississippi. I was responsible for getting other recruits, like myself, in shape. We would run everywhere we went. And I would run as far as the men could tolerate, and then I would run farther. I would do all of the calisthenics that I could possibly do, and then I would do more.

Those of you into physical fitness know what I am talking about: Discipline. You know the truth of that phrase, no pain, no gain! Well, most of us don’t use this same kind of determination in disciplining our souls! We don’t keep our eyes on Christ and take one step at a time and keep going, even when we think we cannot. We can do better.

A man went into Saks Fifth Avenue to buy some pajamas. He noticed on the pajamas a label that said, "shrink-resistant." He wondered, "What does that mean? Do they shrink or don’t they?" He asked the sales lady, "What does it mean when a garment says, ‘shrink-resistant? Does it shrink or not?" The sales lady said, "Sir, it means that it will shrink -- but it really doesn’t want to."

You and I are not a pair of pajamas. We are free moral agents. We can decide. We can set goals. We can do better.

Finally, we have a divine ally. We may not always be successful. We may fail. We may be weak. But we can stay in the battle for discipline because we have Christ.

Let me read to you again that text from the Apostle Paul; "I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.... For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?"

Paul sounds rather pathetic and hopeless, doesn’t he? He sounds like he is losing the battle for discipline, doesn’t he? But if we are truthful, we understand Paul all to well. Who of us has not experienced that battle within us between knowing what is right to do and doing what is right to do?

But now listen to the rest of the text: "Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ ... There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."

Did you grasp that? Paul says, "Who will rescue me from this body of death?" and then answers his own question -- "God will!"

Let me tell you one more story -- a true one. Dr. Kenneth McFarland was Superintendent of a Junior College. It was the day before their Annual Commencement. A girl came into his office. He recognized her as one of those ready to graduate. She was an honor student -- a bright, attractive girl named Nancy Hollingsworth. Nancy told Dr. McFarland a fascinating story. It seems her father was killed when she was a small child. Her mother worked in a factory to support her and her two brothers. Her only other living relative was Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben had a drinking problem. He was an alcoholic. He was a drunk.

One night when Nancy, Jim, and Tommy were still children their mother died very unexpectedly. Uncle Ben came to the house. "Uncle Ben," the children asked, "What are we going to do now?" Uncle Ben answered, "I love you kids. I’ll go down to court and get you assigned to me. I’ll ask God to help me raise you right."

"And he did!" said Nancy. He hasn’t had a drink since. He hasn’t missed a day of work since. Jim graduated from Medical School. Tommy’s graduating from MIT this Spring. I’m going to teacher’s college. Tomorrow night will be six commencements Uncle Ben has attended.

There’s only one problem. He won’t sit in the parents’ section. He feels it would show disrespect for Mom and Dad. Could you mention something about Uncle Ben at the Commencement?" Nancy asked. Ken McFarland said of course he would. He did. And an enormous ovation erupted when Uncle Ben came forward. Many in the graduating class obviously knew Uncle Ben’s story. It was a beautiful and memorable moment.

Later McFarland asked Uncle Ben this question, "When you went down to court that day, what did you say? You didn’t have a very good case as I understand it."

Uncle Ben said, "You’re right. I was scared to death. And when the judge asked me why I thought the children should come and live with me, I said, ‘The Master said a man can be born again. He can change. He can change completely. And he can stay changed.’ I believe the Master meant any man. Even a drunken ne’er-do-well. I believe that when the Master said, ‘Whosoever will,’ I believe he included me."

The judged looked at him a long time and said, "I believe that deal includes you, too. I’m going the let you take the children for 30 days. We’ll come and check. If everything’s going all right, you can keep them permanently."

"The three kids and I got home," said Uncle Ben, "and I promised God that if he’d hold onto me, I would hold on to the kids, and the five of us have been going on together all these years."

That’s how it works! There is a battle going on within each of us -- a battle for discipline -- a battle for control.

Fathers, teach your children this. Nobody can fight the battle for us. We must do it ourselves. It is a battle we can win, though. We fathers -- and mothers -- all of us -- we have a heavenly father. Our heavenly father knows what it means to be a father and he will be with us.