In November of 2003, I was attending the Cathedral of the Advent in Birmingham, AL and just beginning to understand the Gospel and its implications. During one service, it was announced that the Rev. Dr. Rod Rosenbladt was flying in from California to give a seminar on how the theology of the Protestant Reformation interacts with father-son relationships. My decision to attend was a benchmark in my understanding of Jesus Christ and who He is. I could probably even trace my call to the ministry to Professor Rosenbladt’s presentation (to listen/obtain, visit New Reformation Press, the indispensable online center for all things Rosenbladt- and Reformation-related).
In this post, I wish to discuss the Reformers’ (particularly Martin Luther’s) insight into justification as it relates to masculinity and identity. In part two, I will discuss the Reformation’s doctrine of justification as it relates to imputation and blessing. Big words that will hopefully make more sense when I’m done.
One of the most striking things Professor Rosenbladt said in his presentation was; “Masculinity is not 12 gauge. It’s .410.” For all you New Yorkers whose idea of comparison is Gucci and Prada, a .410 is a much lighter and smaller bore shotgun than the 12 gauge. Usually, small-in-stature kids who are just beginning to hunt use a .410. I, personally, use a 12 gauge for ducks and turkeys. For the purposes of our conversation, the 12 gauge makes a considerably louder “boom” than a .410.
It’s this loud “boom” in perceived forms of masculinity that manifests itself when a true father is not present. As Professor Rosenbladt quipped, the lack of a father looks like the movie Heat, i.e. Al Pacino and a bunch of .223 AR-15’s. It is a desperate exercise of inventing what a man is perceived to be; the idea that masculinity means actively creating one’s own identity. Asserting itself to the detriment of others, often violently and certainly unethically (as we have seen in the recent economic crisis). It is a mindset of fatherless men that is driven by fear. Fear of accusation, condemnation, failure, and impotency.
What breaks the chain is a driving away of this fear. You cannot be left to create your own identity in a world this big and mean. It is pure futility. You need the arm of a father around your neck. In theological language, you must passively receive your identity rather than actively create it.
This is justification by faith alone. The One who has total control is completely in your corner. And He will never desert you. This is the truth that takes away the terror of one-whistling-in-the-dark and turns a 12 gauge into a .410. This sort of masculinity still has bite but it is a subtle yet confident bite that needs not make a lot of noise. It creates fathers that have a gentle, patient, and light touch with sons who are trying to find their way in this world. The desperation that leads to driving, forcing, and creating a “champion” is assuaged. The father-son relationship can then be enjoyed for the special relationship it is.
This is the Christian picture of fatherhood, and it is a chink in the passing of the curse from the father to the son.
To read part two, go here.
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15 responses to “Fathers, Sons, and the Reformation, Part I”
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Excellent post. I, too, attended the Rod Rosenbladt conference at Advent, and it was life changing for me as well. Rod’s message is pure gospel, 190 proof, white lightning.
The best part of his talk, for me, was the first session on Saturday morning, when he expounded on the reformers’ view of sin as we find it in Romans 3 and their view of justification as we find it in Romans 4 and 5. That was what changed my view of who I am, whose I am, and where I belong.
Thanks for this Dave. Really good stuff.
“you must passively receive your identity rather than actively create it”
would that also lead to receiving other’s identity (e.g. the identity of your father or father/masculine figure) rather than actively creating it?
Wonderful post, Browder. Terrifyingly creepy video.
np, that’s a good question. Thanks for bringing it up. There are a few ways I look at it:
First, If you listen to the seminar from NRP, you will hear Rod talk about the Aristotle/Aquinas idea of analogy. While we Lutherans (Anglo-Lutherans) are inherently allergic to Aristotle, there are some categories, like analogy, than can be helpful.
For instance, early in the presentation, he quotes some prose about walking alone in a strange place without a father and how terrifying that is. If only he could have a father to show him the way safely.
In the analogy, there are two father ideas that can either stand alone or be intertwined. One is the human father; he becomes the analogy for the heavenly Father.
I look at it in both ways. In order to be shown the way, we are tucked under his/His wing because we are his/His. In that way, we take on the identity of the father because it is his knowledge, power, and strength that are seeing us through an otherwise incomprehensible and hostile place.
Secondly, there is the idea of the “breaking of the chain” with the coming of Christ. Rod’s father (if you listen to the stories) was given a real insight somehow on the nature of fathers and sons. He either received this from his father, another older man, or was converted to the Gospel at some point before Rod came along.
Now, we know that the curse of the father is passed on to the son. I forgot exactly what verse that is but it doesn’t matter because it is empirically true. We tend to grow into our fathers as we age. Women do the same thing, hence the old advice given to men looking for a spouse.
The inverse is also true as I am sure Rod’s son can attest. When the grace of the gospel (which is not something one just figures out) enters into a family chain (male, for our purposes), the identity changes. Sometimes a little and sometimes a lot. Such that love manifests itself from love received, there is a new creature. The passing on of the identity from father to son in a positive way begins. It all comes from imputation which I will discuss later.
That series continues to blow my mind all these years later!
I don’t know a thing about all this psychology, but, fittingly for a Mockingbird post, Atticus Finch is the perfect example of a .410 father…
So are you, Michael.
thanks, David, and that is true, about 1/100% of the time.
Michael, I remember that, one time, you thought Sam was working too hard in school and overachieving. All A’s all the time, if I remember correctly. You took Sam aside and said, “OK, Sam, your job is to make a B.”
He never did and he graduated valedictorian at Briarwood. I think that, with your blessing, the pressure to achieve was removed and he could enjoy learning for its own sake.
That’s exactly what we’re talking about here. Hope you don’t mind me using names, by the way.
It seems like Rod had good reason for the analogy. Would he have it extend to the fatherless, I wonder? There’s passive reception of identity for the orphans as well as for the princes. How many princes want to overcome their fathers’ identities? In a fatherless society where is the model for this new identity?
Trevor, I think Rod would say fathering for the fatherless comes primarily from two places: God (obviously) in the form of Christ for us/justification by faith and older father figures we encounter throughout life.
I know I have had many older men who have taken me under their wing at some time or another. And it always turned out to be just what I needed. Their personal strengths varied but I found that I have picked up a lot of fathering from them.
Not to say I’m fatherless. I have a wonderful Dad. I also see father figures in his life and he’s 66.
David – I was looking at a new 20 ga. with a slug barrel and a shot barrel the other day but then the dog went to the vet and used up my money. But here’s the point: I feel like a 20 ga. father. I know law/gospel, pressure/freedom but i still find myself riding my son too hard. Does Rod address the father/son relationship where the father knows he needs to change and doesn’t see it happening fast enough?
Joseph, not that I remember. One thing I can say, however, (and I’m not a father) is that being a Christian (I like that term better than “living the Christian life”) is a constant movement from death to life (cyclical). That means repentance over improvement.
It sounds like you’re in that place. And if the analogy holds up (and I think it does), then you are probably an infinitely better father than you think you are. In fact, I know you are because I have seen you with those kids and I know how much they love you.
Thanks, Dave. I needed that.
And Joseph, I’m with you, buddy!