Welcome to Installment Three. For those not up to speed, this post is the latest in a series of self-innoculations against personal vulnerability. Don't try to make sense of it, just enjoy the ride.
It is no secret to the online universe that my disdain for the Evangelical derives from having been one, two-thirds of my life thus far. I was born into a Fundamentalist clan whose church community was near cult-like in its intensity: our belief system was (and still is) racist, misogynist, Authoritarian, and dominance-driven. Our church had high attendance requirements: most member families were at the church 4-5 times per week, between worship services, bible studies, youth groups, choir practices, etc. Families tended to keep their social circles restricted to the church; young people were fiercely encouraged to marry within the church and to go to a Christian college.
And so it was with me. As the oldest of four and son of the pastor, much was expected. It never entered my mind that I WOULDN'T live my life according to this template; there simply were no other options.
But, of course, it wasn't that simple: I had ADHD. I was a shy child, wanting nothing more than to stay in my room and read, but because of my ADHD I was viewed as unruly, and was frequently an embarrassment to my parents. I never fit in, either at church or at school. I retreated into the worlds in my mind, which in the early Seventies began to fill up with fiction from something called the New Wave.
You've probably never heard of the New Wave. It was an artistic movement within speculative fiction that imagined the human future, not through the prism of technology, but that of social evolution. Its practitioners included Alfred Bester, Ursula LeGuin, "James Tiptree Jr", Philip Jose Farmer, Thomas Disch, Joanna Russ, Samuel R Delaney, and a number of others. I found them all in the town library; if my parents had had the slightest clue what I was reading, they'd have banned me from that library for life.
Making a long story short, by 1973 I had become a full-blown humanist.
That was obviously something I had to keep to myself.
You'd think that I'd have bailed on the church at the point I began college, as others in my extended family had done. I had certainly let go of the belief system by that time. But we had never been taught to live in the world itself, only in the church - and, as an ADD child, I was pretty frightened of the world. Church offered a kind of safety in community.
I persisted another two decades, finally breaking free upon learning what ADD was and realizing that it had been the defining frame of my life. When I made peace with it, I was able to change course.
(Why is he telling us this?)
I'm telling you this because I want to say a few things about my dad. While all of this was going on, in the Sixties and Seventies, my father and I weren't close. He was never home, for one thing; he lived to be a pastor, not so much a family man (this changed, in later years). I came to resent him, especially when he and my mother began to unravel, very publicly. Their divorce was one of the darkest periods of my life; it was really rough on me and my sister, and flat-out devastating to our two younger brothers.
Even this didn't shake me out of the church. The ADD adult's quest is for social acceptance, and that acceptance is automatic in the church, as long as one says the right things at the right times. As I said above, I made it all the way into the 21st century before I finally apostated.
But back to my dad: once I left the church, I began to see a very different man. I no longer viewed him through the lens he created for me; I saw him now through humanist eyes. And what I saw really changed me.
My father has given six decades of his life to an Authoritarian system - but he himself is no Authoritarian. Set aside the pastor and there's a true neighbor there, underneath: my dad is Andy Griffith, a kind and gentle and helpful spirit, the sort of man who'd give the shirt off his back. He is goodness personified, and fills his days with smiles and greetings and encouraging words and concern for everyone around him.
He wants no part of conflict; he has no interest in being top dog or any of the controlling machinations that are common in church communities. He wants to get along with everyone, and to be of real service.
It took most of a lifetime for it to dawn on me, but there's an obvious reason why I'm the way I am; my DRD4 gene came from my father. I look at him and I see the undiagnosed ADD child that I was for so long.
Many of the stories of his childhood that leaked into my generation through my cousins began to make sense. My own childhood came into focus; I was able to find some compassion for the boy I had been, and real appreciation for the life my father has lived.
He will never be a humanist by label, but underneath his preacher skin, he practices it unconsciously. He believes in people, and realizes that belief through good works. In the process, he's done ADD far better than I have, and been a better humanist than I could ever be.
But, because of his example, I'll keep trying...
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