“Hear, my child, your father’s instruction,
and do not reject your mother’s teaching.”
— Proverbs 4:1

I stand at an intersection of thinking.

Father’s Day is coming, and Proverbs 4 is on my liturgical calendar for today. I am not planning to preach a Father’s Day sermon because I am in another sermon series. I am fairly committed to staying with that series.

On the other hand, Proverbs 4 is sitting right in front of me, and it may be as close to a perfect Father’s Day text as one could hope to find.

So, perhaps the calendar has already solved the problem.

The text begins with an invitation:

Listen.

That may be the gift hidden inside Father’s Day.

What does your father want more than anything else for Father’s Day?

Ties are nice, though many of us do not wear them much anymore. Lunch with the whole family is pleasant. Cards are welcome. Phone calls matter. A visit can be a treasure.

But nothing compares to the joy of knowing that something you have tried to pass on has actually landed. Somewhere along the line, your child listened. Not perfectly. Not immediately. Not without resistance. But somehow, some word of counsel, some life lesson, some warning, some conviction, some fragment of wisdom made its way into the heart.

Most fathers know the opposite experience.

Most have watched their words bounce off the walls. Most have seen the all-knowing sneer of a son or daughter who assumes that Dad has finally lost touch with the modern world. Most have delivered a heartfelt lecture on life, morality, responsibility, faith, money, relationships, or common sense, only to be met with impatience, eye-rolling, or silence.

And fathers are not always right.

That needs to be said.

Some fathers have wounded more than they have guided. Some have spoken too harshly. Some have failed to speak at all. Some have confused control with instruction. Some have offered opinions where wisdom was needed, pressure where patience was called for, and lectures where listening would have done more good.

Proverbs does not canonize every father’s word.

But it does honor the sacred possibility that wisdom can be handed down.

“Listen,” says the father in Proverbs. “Attend. Pay attention. Do not reject instruction before you have received it.”

That is a word for children of every age.

Your father may still have something to say to you. If he is living, he may have more to offer than you have received. If he is gone, some of his words may still be echoing in memory, waiting for you to understand them more fully. If he failed you, you may still be able to discern wisdom from other fathers, mentors, teachers, pastors, elders, and friends who stepped into the gap.

The father in Proverbs speaks because he loves. He speaks because he has lived long enough to know that life has consequences. He speaks because he has made mistakes and does not want his children to repeat every one of them. He speaks because wisdom is too valuable to bury in silence.

There is something tender about that.

A father risks ridicule when he gives counsel. He risks being dismissed as out of date. He risks hearing, “You don’t understand.” He risks discovering that his children must learn some lessons the hard way.

But he speaks anyway.

Why?

Because love cannot remain silent when danger is ahead.

Because experience longs to become instruction.

Because wisdom wants to spare someone pain.

Because a father’s heart carries both memory and hope.

That is why the best Father’s Day gift may not be the tie, the lunch, the card, or the carefully chosen gadget. Those may all be fine gifts. Give them, if you wish.

But also give the gift of listening.

Ask him what he has learned.

Ask him what he would do differently.

Ask him what he wishes he had understood earlier.

Ask him what he hopes you will never forget.

And then, really listen.

Not every word will be golden. Not every memory will be easy. Not every father knows how to speak with grace. But somewhere in the exchange, there may be a proverb. There may be a warning. There may be a blessing.

There may be wisdom.

And now, just to complicate things, my wife has asked me what I want for Father’s Day.

I have plenty of ties and I do not wear them much anymore.

What do I want?

I suppose I want what many fathers want.

I want to know that some word of love has gotten through.

I want to know that the people I love are walking toward wisdom.

I want to know that the lessons I learned painfully might help someone else live more faithfully.

I want to know that my children, and those who have allowed me to speak into their lives, are happier, healthier, and holier because somewhere along the way, they listened.

That may sound sentimental, but Proverbs 4 is not sentimental. It is urgent.

The chapter goes on to say:

“Get wisdom; get insight.”

That is the real inheritance.

Not the tie.

Not the lunch.

Not even the memory.

Wisdom.

So, forget the tie.

Or get it anyway.

But listen to Dad.

And fathers, while we are at it, let us speak words worth hearing. Let us teach without arrogance, correct without cruelty, remember without bitterness, and bless without manipulation.

Let us become the kind of fathers, grandfathers, mentors, and elders whose instruction carries the fragrance of love.

Because the goal is not to be honored for one day.

The goal is to pass on wisdom that gives life.