My Three Fathers

I have three fathers, my biological sire and two versions of my adoptive namesake, Robert J. McNabb. My biological father I have never met, and don't know if he is alive. Versions 1 and 2 of Bob McNabb are the man who reared me and the man who is today, respectively.

Version 1 was a rough man, himself the son of a very rough man. Version 1 did not understand me, had little patience, and a violent temper. Version 1 - Bob - did a bad job as father in many respects, but considering his background, he did far better than any social scientist would have predicted.

Version 1 had many faults, but he did make sure I was in church every Sunday. In spite of the ugly face Version 1 put on the father construct, I learned in church of the Heavenly Father. Bob most certainly fractured his adopted son's spirit, but Bob had the rare courage to be a hypocrite.

A lesser man would have preferred to skulk with their failings in the company of fools, boasting domination and other vain oaths. Instead he loaded up his bitter violent self and his often cowering family every Sunday morning and evening, and every Wednesday night.

Thrice weekly for years Bob stepped into the relentless light of God's love, and I was there almost every time, hearing the hymns, listening to the sermons delivered by men of varying quality. In so doing, he provided the bindings for the wounds he would inflict. I absorbed the stories, heard the testimonies, learned of the wonder working power of God. I heard and I believed in God's Son, even though I despised church, a paradox I only these days understand.

I have no idea how often Bob looked at himself, or what he thought when he heard Paul's words the Corinthians "…Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant…" In my age I know that the Holy Spirit must have been working on him, because time has passed to yield Version 2 of Robert J. McNabb.

Version 2 is a penitent man who regrets the sins against me, my brother and my mom. He has said as much. I had already learned from my own experience that there is wonder working power in faith, that a lion can be made a lamb by Jesus, but to see Bob transformed is affirming.

I owe both versions much. Version 1 I can now love, long removed from the ugly life we shared as father and son, and can be grateful for my faith. I know that if I can love God after all that, then surely my faith is not of myself. Version 2 I love because he is testament that I too can be transformed, that my many failings are not so indelible that He can't cleanse, that there is no harm that I can do to my own that He can't make whole.

Tim McNabb