In public, my dad was one of the great pastors of his generation. He served most notably for 20 fruitful years at Lake Avenue Congregational Church in Pasadena, where John and Noel Piper worshiped during their Fuller Seminary days. Dad and John were dear friends.
In private, my dad was the same man. There was only one Ray Ortlund, Sr.—an authentic Christian man. The distance between what I saw in the New Testament and what I saw in my dad was slight. He was the most Christlike man I’ve ever known; the kind of man, the kind of father, I long to be.
In no particular order, here are 10 lessons on fatherhood I learned from watching him, each lesson living on in my life from memories of his care for me.
1. He was never too busy.
My dad was a busy pastor, but he was never too busy for me. When he felt he hadn’t had enough time with me, he’d say, “Hey Bud, want to skip school tomorrow and go down to the beach?” It didn’t take me long to agree to that! So off we went. We surfed and talked and had fun together. The next day he’d write a note to the school to explain my absence, and when I took it to the principal’s office they always marked my absence “Unexcused.” I guess the reason didn’t count with them—a father wanting to catch up with his son. But dad didn’t care. I mattered to him. And I knew it.
2. He was a Bible man.
My dad was wholeheartedly devoted to Jesus. On my 17th birthday, he and my mom gave me a new Bible. In the front he wrote the following:
Bud,
Nothing could be greater than to have a son—a son who loves the Lord and walks with Him. Your mother and I have found this Book our dearest treasure. We give it to you and doing so can give nothing greater. Be a student of the Bible and your life will be full of blessing. We love you.
Dad
9/7/66
Philippians 1:6
When I read that, I knew my dad meant every word of it. He was a Bible man, and the blessing he wrote about was obvious in his own life.
3. He praised God.
As a kid growing up, I didn’t need an alarm clock most mornings. I woke up to the sound of my dad singing in the shower down the hallway. Every morning he sang heartily and cheerfully this hymn:
When morning gilds the skies
My heart awaking cries
? May Jesus Christ be praised
? Alike at work or prayer
? To Jesus I repair
May Jesus Christ be praised
Many men are hard to read. I have no idea what they stand for. But I never wondered about my dad—what he cared most about, what he was living for. Never once. At all. Not even a little. He did not take a keep-a-low-profile approach to life. Jesus was too wonderful to him. He praised the Lord throughout his life, in public, in private, in a clear and winsome way that could not be ignored.
