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Posted: June 13th, 2007 at 2:33am By: Rev. Rebecca Schlatter
For me, the worst part of Father's Day is picking out a card. Many are pure schmaltz: "Even though I haven't always said, 'Thank you,' I want you to know how much I appreciate you, etc." The humorous ones aren't much better. My father does, in fact, golf and fish, as so many cards stereotype. But he does not sit in front of the TV with a beer and a remote — at least, not often enough to warrant a whole card about it.
One mushy card made me think: "Dad, I always wanted to grow up to be just like you."
That's not exactly true for me and my dad. Since ministry often runs in families, people often ask me if I am descended from pastors. Not a one, I say. In fact, my dad's a chemical engineer. The closest he got to public ministry was the occasional children's message in worship, when he would illustrate Bible texts with goodies from his lab (i.e., using an acid-base indicator to change clear "water" into "wine").
Conversely, this is as close as I get to my dad's engineering mind: Recently, before assembling a new piece of furniture, I compulsively read all the directions and sorted the screws into neat piles.
So, if I had given my dad that card, I'm not sure he would have believed it. For my part, I don't believe that kind of imitation is truly a compliment. If I ever have kids, heaven forbid they should be just like me. Isn't that the point of having two parents — leaving the gene pool better than you found it? They say, "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." But I know plenty of people who should avoid their parents' footsteps, not follow in them.
The best way to "honor our father and mother," then, is to become our own person. The alternatives — staying a kid forever, or becoming a clone of one's parent — may fulfill some need, but ultimately, those don't seem like the best options, for parent or child. They may be flattering, but they are not loving.
In the American dream, children grow up to "do better" than their parents. Usually this implies an economic context, but what about the context of mental or physical health? Every family has its dysfunctions, diseases and destructive patterns. Each of us has work to do there — work we did not choose, but inherited. Rick Warren, in "The Purpose Driven Life," quotes Acts 13:36: "David served the purpose of God in his generation." Within our family inheritances, each of us has some healing to do in our generation.
Much of this healing consists of "taking what we like" from our family heritage, and "leaving the rest." Taking what works, what helps us love ourselves and others, what helps us live joyful and serene lives in service and community. Leaving what didn't work for our parents, what diminishes our selves and relationships, what keeps us bound up in destructive patterns. We "take" parts of our parents' personalities, experiences and gifts — and use those old bricks to build a new house that can support our identity and adult vocations — work, marriage, parenting.
In my new house, I have built on my dad's humor, commitment and his deep desire for harmony between people. I didn't grow up wanting to be like him in all ways, but I have become like him in some important ways.
"Dear Dad, Some of the best parts of me are gifts from you. Happy Father's Day."
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.
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For me, the worst part of Father's Day is picking out a card. Many are pure schmaltz: "Even though I haven't always said, 'Thank you,' I want you to know how much I appreciate you, etc." The humorous ones aren't much better. My father does, in fact, golf and fish, as so many cards stereotype. But he does not sit in front of the TV with a beer and a remote — at least, not often enough to warrant a whole card about it.
One mushy card made me think: "Dad, I always wanted to grow up to be just like you."
That's not exactly true for me and my dad. Since ministry often runs in families, people often ask me if I am descended from pastors. Not a one, I say. In fact, my dad's a chemical engineer. The closest he got to public ministry was the occasional children's message in worship, when he would illustrate Bible texts with goodies from his lab (i.e., using an acid-base indicator to change clear "water" into "wine").
Conversely, this is as close as I get to my dad's engineering mind: Recently, before assembling a new piece of furniture, I compulsively read all the directions and sorted the screws into neat piles.
So, if I had given my dad that card, I'm not sure he would have believed it. For my part, I don't believe that kind of imitation is truly a compliment. If I ever have kids, heaven forbid they should be just like me. Isn't that the point of having two parents — leaving the gene pool better than you found it? They say, "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." But I know plenty of people who should avoid their parents' footsteps, not follow in them.
The best way to "honor our father and mother," then, is to become our own person. The alternatives — staying a kid forever, or becoming a clone of one's parent — may fulfill some need, but ultimately, those don't seem like the best options, for parent or child. They may be flattering, but they are not loving.
In the American dream, children grow up to "do better" than their parents. Usually this implies an economic context, but what about the context of mental or physical health? Every family has its dysfunctions, diseases and destructive patterns. Each of us has work to do there — work we did not choose, but inherited. Rick Warren, in "The Purpose Driven Life," quotes Acts 13:36: "David served the purpose of God in his generation." Within our family inheritances, each of us has some healing to do in our generation.
Much of this healing consists of "taking what we like" from our family heritage, and "leaving the rest." Taking what works, what helps us love ourselves and others, what helps us live joyful and serene lives in service and community. Leaving what didn't work for our parents, what diminishes our selves and relationships, what keeps us bound up in destructive patterns. We "take" parts of our parents' personalities, experiences and gifts — and use those old bricks to build a new house that can support our identity and adult vocations — work, marriage, parenting.
In my new house, I have built on my dad's humor, commitment and his deep desire for harmony between people. I didn't grow up wanting to be like him in all ways, but I have become like him in some important ways.
"Dear Dad, Some of the best parts of me are gifts from you. Happy Father's Day."
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.
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