Dad's 80th

Two weeks ago, I got to speak at my Dad's 80th. Originally, my talk was going to be longer before I realised there were other talks before me, so for the sake of everyone, I tried to cut it down to be more present for everyone.

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Spike Milligan from the Goon Show said, when speaking about his Dad: “My Father had a profound influence on me. He was a lunatic.”

Mark Twain said that when he was about twenty, he considered his father as being ignorant and out of date. By the time he reached thirty, he saw improvement in his father; and when he reached forty, he declared that his father had “come quite a long way.” (Jones, G. C. (1986). 1000 illustrations for preaching and teaching (p. 231). Broadman & Holman Publishers.)

Now I am 43, the last time I gave a speech about Dad was when he was 60. I have nearly double in age, and since then I think it is fair to say that Dad has come quite a long way, and he has had a profound influence on me.

In conversation with Dad, it doesn’t take long to find out that he is Maltese. Dad is somewhat proud of his heritage and through all these years has not given up his Maltese citizenship.

The Maltese are famous for this one defining moment in history with the Knights of St John (of which I am reading a book about it for the second time). The Knights were given the island of Malta after they lost to the Turks in Rhodes. And in 1565, there was the Great Siege of Malta, where the Catholic Knights and the locals faced insurmountable odds against the invading Muslim Turks, but their bravery, faith and sheer will power saw them undefeated.

The Knight’s Hospitallers, as they were also known, were not originally fighters, but healers, who would care for the sick and wounded pilgrims during the crusades and set up hospitals. They were disciplined, sacrificial and devoted to serving others. They even became known for their expertise in defending against what is known as Greek Fire, a special liquid that could even burn on water.

In reflecting on these Maltese Knights, it is interesting that the same spirit in them has shaped Dad.

In World War II, there was a second siege of Malta. The nation faced a siege from the Nazis, who tried to bomb and stave the island. Despite their small resources, the Maltese held firm and afterwards the whole country was awarded St George's Cross for their bravery.

The fallout from that siege meant Malta had to rebuild. During that time, Australia was also seeking immigration and so through the geopolitical situation across the world and specific family situations, it meant that Dad moved to Australia.

But his life was not all that peaceful; he did not avoid war. In the 1960s, the Australian Army conscripted a Maltese citizen for their war, so it was only fitting, in the long line of the Hospitallers, to make him a medic.

Post army, Dad kept this role, he would always be the medic or first aid officer at events such as Beach Mission or Boys Brigade. He was the guy you would go to, sometimes reluctantly, if you had hurt yourself. He would give you something that may or may not have been in date and then send you on your way.

Not only did Dad just serve up his witch doctor concoctions for others. Dad had a heart of service and always sought to serve his community around him. At church, he would always help set out the chairs and mow the lawn. He gave up his holidays for Lake Tabourie Beach Mission and volunteered with security at the Sydney Olympics in 2000. He was a Boys Brigade officer, has volunteered his time at Lifeline and the Camden Museum. He also signed up to join the fire brigade. Even today, the Maltese Cross is used in some fire departments, harking back to the Knights who showed great bravery in facing fires and helping people out of harm’s way. NSW is pagan, but you can see it in the Queensland Fire brigade symbol, as well as in many American brigades.

Dad has taught me, maybe through his military training and maybe his Catholicism, discipline and routines. He would always tell us to give 10% to the church, he would be early to everything, and there were always systems for things. From managing the wood for the fireplace to boiling the water to wash up in the sink, there was a system.

And so today, we get to celebrate Dad in passing his eighth decade, and so I would like to give Dad a medal for this achievement. And I say I would like to, but I can't. The trouble is, the postal service has let me down, and so instead I am giving you a picture of the medal that I won on eBay, which should turn up next week at Liz’s place. (Post Script: It ended up never coming and I got a refund on it, but Dad is still now short a medal.)

This medal has the Maltese Cross, the famous 8 pointed cross. Each point, although today could stand for each decade of your life, but in their original, they are meant to stand for the eight beatitudes we get from Matthew’s Gospel at the start of the Sermon on the Mount. However, when I read them in Matthew 5, you may see that they have taken some liberties. All those who were to wear this cross were to possess these eight qualities: loyalty, piety, honesty, courage, honour and glory, contempt for death, solidarity towards the poor and the sick and respect for the Church.

Dad, I think you have, and still do, embody these virtues. You are over 80 now, and you have shown great contempt for death so far! You are a great Dad who has shown great sacrifice for his family and community. Billy Graham said, “A good father is one of the most unsung, unpraised, unnoticed, and yet one of the most valuable assets in our society.”

Our God chose for us to relate to Him through the title of Father. This can be a problem for people due to their own experience with their own fathers. I do not have this problem. You have had a profound impact on me and have shaped me and my family. You are humble, loving, sacrificial, quite possibly mad, and willing to serve others. I am glad I can call you my Dad. So Happy Birthday, old man.