Recovering Baptist

I never really was the type who tried to “find himself” or even understand himself. That is, until a few years ago when I started to recognize that not everything about me was normal. I started to come to grips with the fact that I have compulsions and addictions and that, not only are they not easily broken, but they must have a cause. I was frustrated because I didn’t see one; I thought my family and childhood were wonderful and that the faith that I grew up with, while slightly different from the one I hold now, had served me fairly well. All of that changed when my mom told me on mothers day that she felt that I had unadopted her because I drink, smoke a pipe, and live inside the perimeter (yes, I’m not kidding about the last one). For the past several months I’ve been trying to put my finger on all the ways that things aren’t right between my parents and me, and I think I’ve found a way to describe our disfunction - I am a Christ figure to them.

Children are always important to their parents, and adopted children are often especially important because they represent years of longing and waiting until one day the state or other agency places a child in their arms. But there’s a difference between loving your child and making them a Christ figure.

• Good parents discipline their children (especially when they spit - I’m going to get that call one day), but my parents used the Bible to point out my flaws in hopes of making me more perfect by following all of its rules. For example, rather than understand my insecurities, my parents pointed to Proverbs to tell me that if I wanted friends that I had to be friendly.
• Good parents give their children attention, but it’s dangerous to give an only child more attention he can handle from his parents, grandmother, and neighbors who filled a grandparent role. I believed (and still do) that the world revolved around me.
• Good parents encourage their children and push them. My parents pointed to my intelligence and talents and told me I could do anything I set my mind to and wouldn’t let me use the word “can’t.”
• Good parents listen to the emotions of their children, but mine were concerned with the logical explanation of what was going on and were most concerned about ensuring that my sins couldn’t be classified into certain super-sinful pigeon holes.
• Good parents have hopes and dreams for their children. They want their children to be successful, to have meaningful relationships, and usually to have grandchildren. As I talk to my parents today, I see that they wanted more than that. My parents are looking to me to validate them as parents and human beings, and they want that by seeing that I make the same choices they would make.

Literature and movies are full of Christ figures. I’m sure everyone who reads this will have plenty of examples come to mind, but my favorite that I can think of right now is Paul Newman in Cool Hand Luke. I like the description in that link - his fellow prisoners idolized and idealized him. I think I would cry if I were to see that movie right now; it represents the weight of trying to be someone’s savior and the impossibility of the task. In all the history of the world there has been only one Christ. Sure there are other religions, and while Judaism awaits a Messiah, none of them have a figure quite like Him. That’s good, because based on the tiny glimpse I see of it, unless you’re God it’s an impossible role to fill.

This entry was posted on Sunday, September 16th, 2007 at 8:05 am and is filed under Family. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.