Fathers of America, Thank You

“The glory of children is their fathers.” — Proverbs 17:6

Society has turned its back on God. It has shamed the strong, mocked the righteous, and sought to dethrone the patriarch from his place at the head of the table. In doing so, it has declared war not only on the family but on the Father Himself. The sacred role of fatherhood, once honored as a divine responsibility, is now reduced to a caricature. Today, I remind America of what it once knew: that fatherhood is a holy calling. Today, I thank the men who still bear that burden with dignity, and I tell the story of why Father’s Day matters.

When the Lord created man, He gave him dominion, not to abuse but to protect. Adam was tasked with stewardship. Abraham was called to be the father of nations. David was a king not because he sought glory but because he followed God’s will. The line of righteous men continued until it reached its perfection in Jesus Christ. And beside Him stood St. Joseph.

St. Joseph is not just a side character in the story of Christ. He is the model of every Christian father. A humble carpenter, a faithful husband, and a silent servant of the Most High, St. Joseph bore responsibility with quiet courage. He did not speak a single word in Scripture, yet his actions echo louder than sermons. God trusted him to guard the Virgin and raise the Son of God. In the home of Nazareth, St. Joseph taught the Savior to work with His hands. He is the patron saint of fathers and workers. His life is the rebuke to every slander against masculinity. He is what every father must strive to be.

In 1870, Pope Pius IX declared St. Joseph the patron of the Universal Church, acknowledging his divine role in salvation history. His feast day, March 19, is a traditional time for fathers and laborers to be honored. The Church saw what the modern world has forgotten: that there is sanctity in fatherhood and there is dignity in work.

From the beginning, Christian tradition has viewed the family as the domestic church. The father, within that sacred household, is its priest. He sanctifies not by ceremony but by example. He sets the moral tone, defends the spiritual integrity of the home, and teaches what it means to live under the sovereignty of God. When this role is abandoned, the faith of nations begins to crumble.

The celebration of Father’s Day in America began not as a commercial gimmick but as an act of reverence. In 1909, Sonora Smart Dodd of Spokane, Washington, proposed a day to honor her father, a Civil War veteran who raised six children after the death of his wife. She saw in him the quiet heroism of duty. The first celebration was held on June 19, 1910. It would take decades and much cultural resistance before President Nixon made it a permanent holiday in 1972. In those years, America still remembered the nobility of sacrifice.

But what about now? Where is the honor for fathers today? Men are called toxic for showing strength. Fathers are mocked in sitcoms, written out of families by courts, and replaced by bureaucrats and state functionaries. The government rewards single motherhood but penalizes father-led homes. The classroom shames boys for acting like boys. The church, too often, stays silent. This did not happen by accident. It is part of the same rebellion that rejected Christ, tore down sacred symbols, and declared war on order itself.

And the result is written across our national ruin. Every broken home tells a story of a missing man. Every prison cell is filled with the son of an absent father. Every school shooting, gang initiation, and overdose carries a wound that began not with politics or policy but with a child who never heard his father's voice. The father wound is not metaphor. It is spiritual amputation.

Yet through all this, some men remain. The men who rise before the sun, pray quietly at the kitchen table, labor without complaint, and kneel beside their children at night. The men who remain faithful even when it is hard. The men who come home tired but still play ball, still listen, still lead. The men who feel the weight of responsibility but never run from it. These are the sons of St. Joseph. They are the backbone of this country.

To every father who has held the line, who has protected his home, who has kept a roof over his family’s head and food on the table through hardship and humiliation, this is for you. You are not forgotten. You are not replaceable. The world may not say thank you but I do. And so do your children, even if they don’t know how to say it.

Heaven sees your labor. Heaven sees your tears. Heaven sees your courage. You are doing God’s work. You are fighting a battle older than time, a battle between chaos and order, between abandonment and love. And though the world mocks and the devil accuses, the truth remains: you are the image of the Father.

So on this Father’s Day, let every church bell ring for you. Let every prayer include your name. And let this country remember that it still stands, not because of presidents or generals or billionaires, but because of men like you.

Fathers of America, thank you.