“Here’s what I learnt when I did a bit of research into Father’s Day”
Ihave always been a tad wary about Father’s Day, just as I am about Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day and any other occasion that looks suspiciously like it was invented by Westfield.
Basically my position is that unless Jesus was born or died, then it’s not a real holiday. y. This is not because I am particularly arly religious, but because I am a bit of a tight-arse.
Yes, I know w that on Father’s Day it’s supposed osed to be me getting all the e presents, but the truth is there’s ’s no such thing as a free lunch, h, let alone a free breakfast st in bed.
Sure, I might ght be lucky enough to get t a three-pack of sports socks s in September, but the following wing May I then have to o buy my wife a Thermomix. x. And that’s just not good business.
So I thought ht I would do a bit of research rch into what Father’s Day actually was and how it all l began. And by “research”, I of course mean looking it up on Wikipedia.
As it turns out, Father’s Day is an extremely remely old and venerated tradition dition dating back to the Middle Ages, when Europe was strongly Christian, the e West wasn’t afraid to take on Islam and the average life expectancy xpectancy was about 35. In other words, what Fraser Anning refers to as the good old days. Back then it was celebrated in March, as the feast day of St Joseph, who was widely venerated in Catholic Europe as the world’s greatest stepdad. Indeed, for anyone who has watched the highly informative parenting paren documentary Daddy’s Home, it is worth noting that Joseph would hav have been the Will Ferrell character an and God would have been Mark Wahlberg. Wah That’s when it occurred to t me: the whole traditional fam family unit of Judeo-christian West Western civilisation is in fact bas based on a complete furphy. If th the Holy Family were around tod today, they wouldn’t be wearing matching m sweaters on a Hallmar Hallmark card, they’d be on the Maury Maur show with the wiry Jewis Jewish host holding a DNA te test declaring: “Yo “You are not the fath father!” I have to say that as a very Jewi Jewish-looking Catholic w who works in morning television, I am extre extremely comfortabl comfortable with that. The tr truth is that no family i is perfect, even the one that’s suppo supposed to be the most perf perfect of all. And gosh, isn’t it a bit of a relief? In an age when countless idiotic Instagram influencers and moronic mummy bloggers tell us how right on they are and all the things we’re doing wrong, I find it a little bit refreshing that the society we live in basically comes from a Middle-eastern workingclass carpenter saying to his wife: “Sorry, honey, did you say you were pregnant?”
Because that’s the nice thing about Joseph. He must have been confused – he must have got suss, but he stuck around. He raised the boy as his own, all the while knowing that any day Mark Wahlberg would probably reappear out of nowhere with some crackpot idea of what he should do with his life. (And boy, didn’t that turn out well…)
The Christians of medieval times called Joseph nutritor Domini – the “nourisher of the Lord”.
So this Father’s Day, let’s remember who the real dads are. The ones who pack the lunches and patch up the sores. The ones who read books and wrestle monsters. The ones who are there.