Living Psalm 86

Living Psalms Book

Psalms in the form of words and art, reborn in the specific contexts of our world, privileging the voices of historically marginalized communities and those acting in solidarity with them.

Living Psalm 86_Mankin for June 21, 2026 (Father’s Day)

Baba: Abba: Papai: Otosan: Appa: Dad

I have a vision of my father:

I must have been four or five,
And he was teaching me how to put on tights –
white, with pink hearts – showing me
how to scrunch them, to stick in a foot,
then gently unroll the delicate fabric.

My father worked in the theater,
and he knew this sort of thing.
I didn’t realize other dads didn’t
until my own friends became fathers themselves,
and proudly reported that they had learned
a fishtail braid or how to scuff the bottom
of patent leather shoes so that their children wouldn’t fall.

These men, the boys I grew up with,
looked around and chose to be a certain kind of father,
one that they hadn’t known when they were young.

Meanwhile, my own husband has boys to raise,
And his father, a kind and gentle man,
who raised his children well but from a distance,
marvels at how often the words “consent”
and “it’s okay to cry” are spoken here.

My friends raising trans children to be safe and whole,
and trans men raising children who cannot know the truth
because truth spoken in the wrong ear could mean
the collapse of everything –
these fathers are tireless and brave, a soft place to land
when this country is anything but.

But…this may still be a hard and terrible day for you,
because men can be hard and terrible. There is no softening
that blow for you, if you identify as a man.
You have a power you did not earn, safety fifty percent of us
will never understand, a responsibility to be more than “not all men.”

You are the majority assaulters, rapists, murderers. You make us tremble
with your seething rage and your privilege over bodies that are not yours.
Your opinions carry weight you didn’t earn through goodness or decency.

And if you feel attacked right now, or think,
but I am not like those men, I will tell you the truth:
you must prove it every day.

Yes, you, exhausted fathers of special needs children,
and you, fathers of adopted children, displaced children, fostered children,
you, fathers of queer children, of children who cut themselves,
who drink too much, who take in every stray who crosses their path,
you, fathers of unhoused children, of refugee children,
of children who are shot by the police for simply standing on the street –
but especially you, fathers of children whose skin protects them,
whose wealth cushions them, who skip the line and have the red carpet rolled out –

You, who can leave a pregnant woman, you, who can disappear
when the hungry baby cries, you, who can sleep soundly
knowing your body is your own in every possible way –
you owe us more than your presence.

You owe us your learning, your knowing better and doing better,
your vote, your voice, your partnership.
We can comfort you, and show up for you, we can teach and forgive you,
but at the end of the day, and month, and year, it is on you
to show evidence of your efforts. The burden is yours
to teach children that “not all men” shy away from community,
activism, nurture; not all men stay silent in the face of oppression.

You, who ask for mercy, who pray for guidance and justice,
remember that it is better by far to give than to receive.
This is your chance. Show us your tenderness,
then show us you will stand on the front lines, arms linked,
screaming for the safety of the ones who know you
by your secret name and open heart.

Living Psalm 86 was written by Maren Mankin.

Living Psalms Book is created by UCC Witness & Worship Artists’ Group, a Network of UCC connected artists, activists and ministers bridging the worship and liturgy of the local church with witness and action in the community. Maren Tirabassi, editor

Logo is detail from Living Psalm 80 by Sophia Beardemphl, Redwoods, CA. Recovering from significant bullying, Sophia, age nine, read Psalm 80 and thought of brokenness that needs mending. She drew this broken and mended bowl.