I Have Called You by Name

This Sunday is Father's Day in the United States.

For many people, it will be a day of celebration.

For others, it will be marked by grief, absence, disappointment, or longing.

As I reflected on the day, I found myself thinking about my favorite episode of Ted Lasso.

I love Ted Lasso for a lot of reasons, but today I'm reflecting on one of my favorite moments that comes near the end of the third season.

Samuel Obisanya is having a terrible week.

A British politician has publicly singled him out on social media after he posts advocating for humane treatment for African migrants. Racist attacks follow online. The restaurant he built to celebrate his Nigerian heritage has been vandalized. The place he created to honor his family and his culture has been damaged by people who want him to feel unwelcome.

Sam is carrying all of it. He's trying to be strong, to be gracious, to be the person everyone needs him to be.

The audience knows that his father, Ola, is coming to visit. The trip was already planned. There is no dramatic rescue. But the timing could not be more perfect.

As Samuel stands amid the wreckage of everything that has happened and he is starting to crack, he hears a familiar voice behind him.

"Samuel."

Not Sam.

Samuel.

His full name.

And before another word is spoken, he falls into his father's arms.

Every time I watch that scene, it gets me. Not because of what Ola says. Because of what Samuel hears.

He hears safety. He hears acceptance. He hears home. He hears the voice of someone who knew him before the world did.

He hears the voice of someone who knows exactly who he is. And who loves him.

The speed with which Samuel collapses into that embrace tells us everything we need to know. That kind of trust is not created in a moment. It is built over years.

Years of listening. Years of showing up. Years of keeping promises. Years of creating a place where another human being can bring their whole self—joy, fear, failure, doubt, grief, and all—and know they will still be welcomed.

We all need at least one person whose voice helps us remember who we are.

It may be one of the greatest gifts one person can give another: to know their name.Not simply what they are called. Who they are. To know their story.

Their strengths.

Their fears.

Their wounds.

Their dreams.

There is another detail in the story that I didn't fully appreciate until after we meet Ola. When we first learn that Samuel named his restaurant Ola's, it feels like a son honoring his father. After we meet Ola, it feels like something more; it feels like a thank-you.

The naming is a recognition that the kindness, dignity, courage, and generosity we admire in Samuel did not appear out of nowhere. These were planted, watered, and nurtured by someone who showed him what those things looked like.

The audience spends three seasons falling in love with Samuel. His integrity is unwavering. His compassion seems effortless. His strength is quiet rather than performative.

And then we meet Ola.

And suddenly we understand.

We catch a glimpse of the soil in which those virtues were grown.

The restaurant no longer feels like a tribute. It feels like gratitude. A son looking at the man who helped shape him and saying, "Thank you for showing me how to live."

One of the quiet themes running through Ted Lasso is the contrast between Samuel and Jamie Tartt. Jamie spends much of the series searching for approval that always seems just beyond his reach. Samuel already possesses what Jamie is searching for from his father.

Not success.

Not achievement.

Not praise.

Unconditional love.

The kind of love that doesn't need to be earned. The kind that is still there on your worst day. The kind that says, "Come here. I've got you." And maybe that's what fatherhood looks like at its very best.

Not authority.

Not perfection.

Not having all the answers.

Simply being the person whose voice helps you remember who you are.

While writing this, I couldn't help thinking about how often the idea of being called by name appears in Scripture.

Again and again, God calls people by name, because naming is an act of recognition.

An act of relationship.

An act of love.

To be called by name is to be known.

To be seen. To be claimed. To belong.

And perhaps that is what makes Ola's simple greeting so powerful. For a brief moment, Samuel is reminded that before he is a restaurateur, an activist, a footballer, or a public figure, he is simply a beloved son.

And while Father's Day gives us an opportunity to celebrate fathers, I've come to believe that this kind of love isn't limited to fathers.

I've received it from mothers, from grandparents, from aunts, from teachers, from mentors, from sponsors, from friends, and from people who arrived at exactly the right moment and reminded me that I wasn't carrying life alone.

The world needs more people who know how to listen quietly.

More people who know how to create safety.

More people who know how to love without keeping score.

More people who know how to call others by name in love.

For all of you who show up for others in this way, thank you.

I see you.

I hear you.

You matter.

You are loved and needed more than you know.