What he didn't say...

"Teach your children well,
Their father's hell did slowly go by,
And feed them on your dreams
The one they picked, the one you'll know by."

- Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

He was standing in line with the tremors of Parkinson’s syndrome. His head was slightly bent forward, both arms trembling, his shoulders bobbing up and down in a rhythmic cyclic movement, a mask like expression hiding his humanity and the shuffled gait that, on a flat surface, so often requires deliberate thought – all a part of this debilitating disorder. 

Disorder - now there’s a word…”a physical condition in which there is a disturbance of normal functioning” – Webster…a disorder there for the entire world to see, expressing the sometimes public humiliation – the hallmark of the palsy.  I didn’t know this man, but in that moment, he was my father.

My dad was a minister, brought up in the post WWI years.  A time when there was little but hope and faith that tomorrow would be a better day.  He understood the brutality of a lower class life, the disappointments of hunger, and the humility of a youngster living on the edge of poverty.  Yet he aspired to more – much more.  

He did have help - the tenacious love of a mother, who had lost her father and most of her brothers to alcoholism.  Nonetheless, Martha instilled in her children the three most important things a parent can give – “…faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”  One doesn’t need the scripture, nor be very old to understand the importance of these life promoting and sustaining basics.

There is comfort in structure

My father’s family found comfort in those days, in their faith…the black and white texture of Pentecostal Fundamentalism.  Fortunately, dad had a quick and inquisitive mind; a gift and ear for learning musical instruments; a resonant speaking and singing voice, and the good looks of a film star.  The latter gifts – speaking, music, singing, and appearance – fit well into, and were nurtured by, his Pentecostal faith. 

Unfortunately, an inquisitive mind has little place in the structure of fundamental thought.  One might argue inquisitive minds have little place in those who find themselves entwined in rigid religious ideology.  Obedience – not questions, is the bread and butter of unyielding systems of belief. 

It is the refuge into which many retreat, partly because it provides a sanctuary of certainty in a world that seems so otherwise uncertain, and partly because it provides a sense of spiritual superiority in a culture where often success and meaning is deeply tied to external success.  It provides confident answers and a community of faith that keeps one safe in the womb of God’s eternal love and future reward. 

Sadly, it is also a place of stagnant solace; where doctrine is the only truth; where the apologist reigns supreme; where dogma most often trumps rational thought.  It is a place where, if one has a physical infirmity, it is because they had sinned before God – a place where significant illness is a curse.  While not openly discussed, it is the fodder for curiosity – ‘…what must this poor soul have done to be cursed in this manner…’

Don’t ask – can’t tell…

While this is where my father learned his alphabet of faith, it was not a place where he could remain, not so much by choice, but rather by his sincere interest in spiritual issues.  His welcome slipped away in direct proportion to the number of questions he asked his elders.  “Some day, you will have all your questions answered – when you get to Heaven, but not while you are in this life.”  This was simply not good enough for him.  A promised future reward couldn’t satisfy his restless soul.

It is at this juncture in one’s journey that they reach a crossroads.  Do they move to a life of the world, where anything goes and where they have little way to protect themselves from very different perspectives than they had been taught?  Do they reject faith all together, believing that if truth is not in the body from which they have come - is there truth at all?  Or do they continue to believe that God has something for them to do that will have a meaningful impact, both in their lives as well as the lives of those people with whom they come in contact.

Curses – fortunately not foiled!

Leaving the ‘culture of the church’ often carries with it significant penalty.  It can be as simple as mild ostracism or complete rejection with an expression of God’s curse on the apostate.   The latter is what happened to my father.

To his credit, he was resilient as well as a curious man.  He came to understand his true escape was through education, and so he fought and struggled to be the first in his family to graduate from university – an anathema to his former spiritual mentors. 

He went on not only to raise a family, but also spend tens of thousands of hours counseling the downtrodden, ministering to the ill and dying, studying some each day, and preparing thoughtful/provocative sermons on a weekly basis.  No canned sermons for him, it was all prayer and the arduous digging the ditch on a weekly basis to share his thought and inspiration with his flock.

If not always with the family, surely with others he lived by the construct of two loves in his life – ‘…God, and the person in front of him at any particular moment...’

What he didn’t do…

He also did NOT do maybe the most important thing a human being could NOT have done. 

·      He did NOT burden his children with the punishing guilt of fundamental Christian thought. 

·      He did NOT warn against the ways of the world, using the eternal damnation as the sting of sin.

·      He did NOT teach a ‘fire escape’ Creator who legislated punishment as a way of garnering love.

·      He did NOT teach his children they were inescapably sinful creatures wallowing through a lifetime of sin, only to be released at death.

The gift

This gift of omission is more than I can express in words.  Why?  Because - in spite of his education, spiritual hunger and curiosity for the creative universe, he never escaped the sense that the Parkinson’s was placed upon him for a sin committed in his early years.  It haunted him to the end of his life. 

His sacrifice was not just to those for whom he ministered faith, hope and love.  For, if any of us has a purpose in life, let it be that we work to instill these characteristics, not just in our children, but in all with whom we come in contact. 

What a true blessing…

My father’s greatest gift was

·      What he did NOT say

·      What he did NOT minister to his children – fear of the universal Creator

·      What he did NOT plant in our minds.

For he understood, what you plant in the mind of a child, often remains consciously or unconsciously for a lifetime. 

What he didn’t say allowed his children to Love God openly and fearlessly – an unspeakable gift!  You see, WORDS DO MATTER – even the ones you don’t speak!

- ted