Facing the Lions of Fatherhood

The ‘roar’ of earthly fathers can be powerful and painful, but God’s roar is louder.

Out of all the big cats, lions have the loudest roar (roughly equivalent to a jet flying overhead). And it’s piercing: An adult male lion’s roar can be heard up to five miles away. Adult males of the human species, particularly fathers, find the same to be true: Our roars carry—further than we think or intend. A dad’s voice is powerful. So is its absence. We’re born with a built-in longing for a father’s affection and approval. And even highly flawed dads want to fulfill those longings (Matt. 7:11).

Yet we can’t seem to stop roaring.

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines a roar as a “loud, deep cry (as of pain or anger).” Our roars consist of the words, actions, and attitudes stemming from our deep places of anger and pain.

We all have them, injured spots where we still feel and act young. Many of them were inflicted by the roars of our own fathers, who were still reeling from their fathers, and their fathers’ fathers. When someone unknowingly bumps against our scars, we react with greater intensity than the present situation warrants. Often, we’re oblivious to what we’re doing or to the cause. We think we’ve left those old hurts and heartaches behind long ago.

But pain left unattended and unexpressed tends to come out sideways. Scripture speaks of “the sins of the fathers” lasting multiple generations. (Num. 14:18) Much of what lingers is the damage caused by sin—damage that compounds and spreads as it gets passed down.

The prophets Ezekiel and Jeremiah both spoke of a proverb they heard people quote regularly: “The fathers eat sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge.”

Therapists have labeled this “the ...