Among many reasons to appreciate three years with Taek Kim has been the opportunity to meet his parents. We enjoyed a quiet dinner together. We spent time at Taek and Jamie’s wedding together. I learned about their very active roles in Troy Korean United Methodist Church. I also learned about the roles they played in Taek’s life.
But of greater interest is the feeling Taek has for his parents. Theirs is a relationship marked by honor, respect and deep appreciation. To be sure, much of this is cultural. But it is also deeply personal. Unfortunately, what Taek feels for his folks is relatively rare in our culture. Concerning the feelings that many have for their parents, I see distancing, questioning and no small amount of blaming. I also hear a lot of talk about “baggage.”
Reverend, you have no idea the baggage I’ve had to carry from my childhood. I have carried it a long way. I have carried it a long time. Little of it has been light. And none of it, easy.
So let’s start this sermon with a bold admission. A blunt admission. A controversial admission. But a discussable admission. It’s not my admission. But it’s not an uncommon admission.
All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorb the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge the glass. Others crack the glass. While a few shatter the glass into little jagged pieces that are beyond repair.
Mitch Albom wrote that in his book entitled The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Unless you just came back from Florida, this is not new news. I have been talking about Mitch’s book for a few weeks. Mitch tells the story of Eddie of New Jersey….who worked for a carny….until his 83rd birthday. He worked from the beginning of his life to the ending of his life. Which came quickly. Some say heroically. When someone plunged. And Eddie lunged. In the direction of a little girl who screamed.
When next we see Eddie, he’s in heaven….meeting people….learning lessons. From the Blue Man, Eddie learns that “we are all connected.” From his old Army captain, Eddie learns that “sacrifice is expected.” Now we turn to Ruby (from the carny) who never knew Eddie, but knew Eddie’s daddy….the same daddy who had done considerable damage to Eddie. Damage that began with neglect, continued with violence, and concluded with silence….years and years of silence.
Of all the damage, silence was perhaps the worst. I remember years when, in my house, somebody stopped talking. Then everybody stopped talking. Which sometimes went on for three or four days. And when that happened, I would have actually preferred yelling. For yelling would have meant connecting. I believe it was Thomas Mann who wrote: “Speech is civilization itself. The word….any word….even the contradictory word….preserves contact. It is silence that isolates.”
All children are damaged by their parents.
Some genetically….in terms of health that is not given.
Others economically….in terms of advantages that are not given.
Some environmentally….in terms of examples that are not given.
Others morally…..in terms of values that are not given.
Many maritally…..in terms of stability that is not given.
More than a few spiritually….in terms of God who is not given.
Some parents abdicate. Other parents dominate. Those are the parents who cast such a gigantic shadow that growth is stunted by it and beneath it.
Last Tuesday afternoon, several of us went on a walking tour through the Costa Rican rain forest in Monteverde. It was a phenomenal experience. The terrain was lush and green, dense and dark. Jungle-like in nature, there was vegetation everywhere. Parts of the ecological preserve were so dark that seventy percent of all new life grows on the tops of trees. It was the first time I ever saw ferns, orchids and other plant species sprouting from tree branches, hundreds of feet off the ground. Things grow up there because there is light up there.
Periodically we would happen upon a place where a large tree had fallen, destroying everything in its path. But a strange thing happened. The tree created space in falling, allowing light into the clearing. New growth resulted from the light, the whole process being called “reforestation.” LaVere Webster (colleague and friend) said as we were walking: “Bill, do you ever get the feeling that some people will never grow until an old oak that towers over their lives falls…. thereby making a little space and allowing a little light?”
All children are damaged by their parents. So what do we do with the fifth commandment: “Honor your father and mother that your days may be long in the land the Lord your God gives to you”? The first thing we need to do is understand what the commandment does not mean. It does not mean that you are supposed to take your elderly parents into your home when they can no longer reside on their own…. although you may. It does not mean that you are to acquiesce in the face of poor parenting, neglectful parenting or abusive parenting….although you may. Nor does it mean that you are never to question anything your parent says or challenge anything your parent does….although you may. Honor is not due your parents because all parental behavior (by definition) is acceptable. Honor is due your parents because it is through them that life….God’s life….divine life….is transferable.
If the image of God is within us, how does it get there? And if we are the children of God, how do we become so? Through our parents, that’s how. When I first became a serious student of the Old Testament, I learned that the Jews defined God, not by listing God’s attributes, but by naming God’s descendants.
Who is God?
God is the father of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Joseph.How is God’s promise passed?
Through Abraham, to Isaac, to Jacob, to Joseph.How is God’s creativity continued?
As it is replicated by Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Joseph.
To dishonor your parents is to dishonor the God who comes to you through them. Dr. Laura is fond of saying that anybody can be a sperm donor….or, I suppose, an egg donor. It’s her way of saying that parenting is more than reproductive biology. Which it is. But however God comes to your life….however you become children of God….however you learn that you are children of God (and are taught how to live as children of God)….by whomever that happens, honor them. For, in doing so, you are giving honor to God.
Everybody knows that there are ten commandments. Most people think that the first four are commandments about God and the last six (beginning with “Honor your father and your mother”) are commandments about neighbors. That’s wrong. The first five are about God.
Honor God’s status….no other gods before me.
Honor God’s singularity….make no graven image of me.
Honor God’s name….don’t manipulate, misuse or take it in vain.
Honor God’s day….set it apart and keep it holy.Honor God’s line….by respecting the people through whom it comes to you.
The fifth commandment was never meant to explain, excuse or exonerate bad parenting. I once knew a girl who suffered at the hands of a mother who was an abusive alcoholic. On one occasion, her mother knocked her down the stairs. On another occasion, her mother slammed her daughter’s hand in the door, breaking three fingers. After which the mother said: “I brought you into the world. I can take you out of the world anytime I want to. The Bible says so.”
Well, the Bible does not say so. Let me go out on a limb here. Honor is paid to parents to the degree that they initiate, replicate and radiate the activity of God. Ungodly parenting not only denies the connection, but suspends the obligation.
So what do you do when that happens? What do you do when you find honor hard to come by? Well, listen to what Ruby says to Eddie during their encounter in heaven.
Edward (that was the first time in a long time anyone had called him Edward), learn this from me. Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from the inside. We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves. Forgive, Edward. Forgive. You need to forgive your father.
Do it, because anger really is a poison and hatred is very much a curved blade. You’ve got to let some things go for the sake of the journey….your journey. Sure, you’ve got baggage. But how long are you going to carry it without becoming bent out of shape by it? Said a friend of mine (talking about another friend of us both): “Listen to her sometimes. Then check your watch and see how many minutes she can go without talking about her mother. Her mother dominates her conversation, just like her mother dominates her life. But she allows it, wallows in it and even nurses it.” Forgive.
Do it, because (as Ruby says to Eddie): “Things are not always as they seem.” There were things about your father you didn’t know….struggles of your father you couldn’t share….virtues in your father you couldn’t see. Your father was a puzzle to you because you didn’t have all the pieces. Paul Harvey is not the only one who has a “rest of the story.” All of us do, including our parents. But when things go wrong in a relationship, we can’t see “the rest of the story.” Because pain goes straight to our eyes, making us nearsighted. Forgive.
Do it, because blame is never completely one-sided. Eddie held his father responsible for the school he never attended, the engineer he never became, the places he never visited and the sweetness he never tasted. Then his father had the gall to die early, saddling Eddie with the care of his mother (complete with a prison called a carny). To which Ruby simply said: “Eddie, your father is not the reason you never got off the pier.” Forgive.
Do it, because God requires it and Christ models it. I have been out of the country for the last several days, so I don’t know whether the debate is still swirling over The Passion of the Christ. I still haven’t seen it, although I plan to (and will surely comment on it). Will I watch the brutality and the agony? Of course I will. Because Mel Gibson wants me to. And the gospel asks me to. (“Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto his sorrow.”)
But while I’m watching, I’ll also be listening (as much as anyone can listen to Aramaic). I’ll be listening to the words from the cross. I’ll especially be listening for Jesus’ initial words from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” The question being, “Who are the ‘them’?”
There swirls a great debate over who is to blame for the cross. What share of the guilt should be borne by whom? Should we assign it to
Pontius Pilate….who alone could order it?
Roman soldiers….who were expected to execute it?
Any number of Jews….who, for reasons beginning with theology and ending in expediency, may have encouraged it?
A bevy of bystanders….who were said to have cheered it?
And what guilt should be assigned to
Floggers….who flailed away?
Followers….who ran away?
God….who looked away?
Or, in the words of countless sermons delivered across the years,
You and I….who turned away?
Every Good Friday we sing the hymn “Ah, Holy Jesus,” the second verse of which begins:
Who was the guilty?
Who brought this upon thee?
Alas my treason, Jesus hath undone thee.
My friends, why are we still dividing the house over the cross.…and the blame for the cross…. two thousand years later? Especially when the one to whom it was done forgave the ones who did it…. even as it was happening? Forgiveness from the cross trumps blame for the cross. Or if it doesn’t, it ought to. In the sweet, merciful name of Jesus, can’t we give it a rest? Forgive.
* * * * *
Which was what Eddie did for his daddy….gave it a rest, I mean. When next we see them, they are in a diner. Just a common, ordinary diner. Very much like the diner adjacent to the pier….only in heaven now.
“I’ll be seeing you, in all the old familiar places.”
And, in response to Eddie’s overtures of reconciliation, his father simply looks across the table and says: “It’s fixed.”
* * * * *
I am not looking forward to a heavenly diner, I am looking forward to a back porch. A small back porch, really. Screens on three sides. The door to the kitchen on the fourth side. Just enough room for two chairs. No, make that two chairs and a radio. A Philco radio….black…. plastic….with knobs, not buttons. Can you believe a radio with knobs? The radio is tuned to WJR and the voice of the Tigers.
My dad will be sitting in one chair, smoking a Pall Mall, listening to me tell him things I could have told him….should have told him….but didn’t tell him in the years when our relationship (along with all the other relationships in his life) went south. And then the radio’s voice will rise because old Paw Paw (Charlie Maxwell) or Stormin’ Norman Cash lofts one into the reaches of the upper deck. Which is when my dad will smile at me and say: “Hey, Bill, how ’bout them Tigers?” And we, too, will be fixed.
Note: My understanding of the Ten Commandments first came from B. Davie Napier (Yale University) and his mind-blowing lectures on the Book of Exodus.
