I am back from Clergy Conference and ready to preach. How has the past week shaped my thinking? Join me at All Saints Church, Culmstock, to find out.

Last night I drove back from Andover, as I have been doping almost every Saturday since the end of November, along the A303. If you know the A303 you will know that it passes Stonehenge, an amazing World Heritage Site which takes on greater interest today: the summer solstice, when the stones align with the exact position of the rising sun. Stonehenge is 20 minutes from Andover, and yet we have never been to witness. I had thought that it was perhaps something we should do this year, our final year of being based nearby, but somehow…. As I drove past everything looked different: there was new signage, a lot of cones, police presence, and at the stones themselves huge cameras had been erected, taller than the stones themselves. My FOMO kicked in (Fear Of Missing Out).

I had similar FOMO moments on conference: there was just so much on offer! There were things which were ‘compulsory’ (the keynote speakers, morning Bible studies with the bishops, lunch on the final day…) and others which weren’t, which we could pick and choose from, and Tuesday night I opted to retire early and listen to the evening’s entertainment from open window.

Today is one of those days when FOMO can loom large. This year the Solstice lands upon Father’s Day, a day when we celebrate dads, and when we also trigger all sorts of emotions for those who have never known their dad, or are bereaved, or who could never be dads.

Last week we also had the announcement that the Church of England was formally apologising for its role in Mother and Baby homes in the 60s.

My Aunt became pregnant at just 16. My dad remembers her disappearing for a while and then coming back home without a baby. That baby returned, looking for her mum and all that she had missed out on, in the 90s. She is now a member of our family. We share the same shaped hands, the same sense of humour, the same difficulty pronouncing our ‘R’s. My cousin re-discovered her Mum, but not her biological Dad. He remains a mystery to her.

Today’s Gospel reading is a painful one, a complicated and challenge one for preachers; especially those who have been away all week!

At the heart of the passage though, is the phrase Father in Heaven. An echo of the Lord’s Prayer which begins,

Our Father which art in Heaven.

Just one of the nuggets from the excellent teachings of the past week is this phrase. The term used for ‘Father’ is Abba, chosen specifically because Jesus knew that there were people in his own time as well as ours, who were fatherless, not just in the sense that there was no recorded male parent, but that there was no-one who loved and cared for them enough to be called Daddy. God is our Daddy.

So, the gospel passage.

I wish I had the time and energy and theological to take you on a deep dive into the linguistic and cultural background that would open this passage to us. I wish I had the nerve to really open up verses 34-39 which speak about setting children against their parents. Instead am going to focus on verses 29-32:

 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground unperceived by your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.
‘Everyone therefore who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven;

Matthew 10: 29-32

We have a Father, one who has counted every hair on head. One who knows us and loves us intimately. One who yearns for us to come close and bathe in that love, and be strengthened in a deep knowledge of who we are, not as the world sees us, but as the Creator of the Universe does.

Jesus instructs us to call God Daddy. Jesus who had grown up which aspersions surrounding his own parentage.

In the companion Old Testament passage set for the day we are reminded of Hagar, sent out into the wilderness, expecting to witness her child die, until God appears. God has heard her father-less child cry and steps in. This is not the chosen child, the one that was to carry Abraham’s holy inheritance, this is Ishmael, whose name means God has heard.

God sees and hears. God knows which of us are in need of a Father, a Daddy, and he says ‘Here I am’.

Father’s Day isn’t a Christian festival in the same way that Mothering Sunday is, which means that we don’t tend to celebrate our dads. Today let’s do that. Let’s, with thankful hearts to our heavenly Daddy, give thanks to all the Dads: all who have fathered us, who have been strong role models for us, who have provided, taught, guided, prayed for us. The biological dads, the adoptive dads, the dads who have stepped up, the uncles, the granddads, foster dads, and the god-dads.

Our Conference as you can imagine, was full of worship, it was also full of people! The first evening I’d decided to head for my room and some introvert space, however as I passed the marquee, I heard the gentle strumming of a guitar preparing to lead worship, and God called me in. I could have sat in my room, recharging my physical batteries, instead I found myself being embraced by my heavenly Abba. So today as well as remembering the men in our lives, let us draw close to Abba God in worship and allow him to Father us.

You can read today’s gospel passage in full here, and Hagar’s story here.