Watchful Father

On Fnday evening. June 13, 2025. His Beatitude Patriarch Cardinal Louis Raphael Sake called Archbishop Imad Khoshabeh, Chaldean Archbishop of Tehran and Patriarchal Administrator of Urmia, and assured him of his prayers for an end to this brutal war Below is the statement issued by His Beatitude Patriarch Sako:

The situation in the region is deeply critical, especially in the wake of the recent military attacks This escalation exposes the region to risks that are difficult to contain. While we express our concern, about what is happening, we call on everyone to exercise wisdom and retum to the dialogue table to resolve differences. We call on the international community to help reduce tensions and strive to achieve peace and security based on international law, fraternity, and the common good

I call on all our churches to offer prayers for the return of peace and stability to the region and for a retum to normal life, especially during tomorrow's Sunday masses.

Today, the Lord gives us a powerful word—one that calls each of us, and especially our fathers, to a deeper awareness of our role in the family, in the Church, and in the world. I want to speak especially to the fathers among us—young dads, seasoned dads, spiritual fathers, and even the men preparing for that call.

In Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, we heard his words: “Be watchful, stand firm in your faith, be courageous, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.” If I could give you one line to carry in your heart this week, especially you dads—it’s that. Be watchful. Stand firm. Be strong. And do it all in love.

Let me begin with a story. There was a man who was a father of three. A good man, a working man. One of his kids said, “I don’t remember many of the things my dad said growing up, but I remember every time he showed up.” When the car broke down, he showed up. When the basketball game had ten seconds left—he was there in the stands. When she cried over a breakup in high school—he made her pancakes at midnight. He didn’t always have the right words, but he was present. He stood firm. He loved much.

That’s the kind of father the world needs.

And yet, as we see in our readings today, standing firm doesn’t mean being perfect or having all the answers. Paul writes honestly about suffering—about being “so utterly, unbearably crushed that we despaired of life itself.” But he goes on to say this suffering taught him not to rely on himself, but on God who raises the dead.

Fathers, you’re not called to be superheroes. You’re called to be faithful. Your family doesn’t need perfection. They need presence. They need your faith, your courage, your steady love even when you’re tired or broken.

Look at Peter and John in the Acts of the Apostles. Simple men—“uneducated, common men,” the text says—but filled with the Holy Spirit, they stood before powerful authorities and said, “We cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard.” They didn’t back down. They spoke truth. They were fathers in faith to the early Church, and they led by conviction, not credentials.

Fathers today—you too are being called to speak truth in a world full of confusion. To protect your families. To pray over your children. To be the first to say “I’m sorry,” and the last to give up. And like Peter, even if the world doesn’t understand you, or even mocks you, stand firm in your faith.

Now, we come to the Gospel—the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet. It’s one of the most moving scenes in Scripture. She brings her tears, her love, her brokenness—and Jesus defends her. He honors her heart. He tells the Pharisee, “You gave me no kiss, no oil… but she loved much.” He doesn’t define her by her past. He sees her heart. He forgives. He lifts her up.

What does this say to fathers? Everything.

It says: be a man who creates space in your home for mercy. Be a man who sees your wife and your children not for what the world says they are, but for who they are in God’s eyes—beloved. Be a man whose strength is proven not in how loud he speaks, but in how deeply he loves.

Love much, fathers. And let all that you do be done in love.

Your role is irreplaceable. Not because of what society says. But because God has chosen you to mirror His fatherhood. The same God who comforts us in affliction, who walks with us in suffering, who delivers us from death—that is the model of your vocation.

But I also want to speak a word to those for whom Father’s Day is complicated. Maybe your father wasn’t present. Maybe he failed in his responsibilities. Maybe you carry wounds from that absence, that harsh word, or that silence. I want to say this gently but clearly: forgiving our earthly fathers—whether they were absent, broken, or even harmful—is not about pretending it didn’t matter. It’s about letting God fill in what was missing. It’s about allowing the Father of mercies, the one who never fails, to heal what human love could not complete.

God is the Father who never forgets, never abandons, and never gives up on His children. He is strong where our fathers were weak. He is merciful where our fathers were harsh. He is faithful when others fall short.

So today, I want to encourage you.

To the fathers: your quiet sacrifices matter. Your courage is noticed. Your forgiveness, your humility, your strength in prayer—it shapes your children more than you know.

To the families: honor your fathers. Tell them when you see their efforts. Pray for them. Thank them.

And to all the men here, whether fathers by blood or by spiritual care—be like Paul, be like Peter, be like Christ. Be men who speak truth, love boldly, and never forget the power of presence.

Because in the end, the measure of a father is not found in applause, but in the legacy of love he leaves behind. Amen.