TREE TRUNK

When you look at me think of looking at the trunk of a tree. I am the stem, the trunk. Above me are the branches: my children and grandchildren. These will grow out to ever more branches as long as there be human existence on earth. Below me are the roots: all my ancestors. These would be my Parents, Grandparents, Great Grandparents, etc. These go out ever wider into numerous sub-roots.

We, as a human society, divide ourselves into various categories: country of origins, ethnic groups and races. Let’s think about country or origin as a root system. Because my Father’s parents came from Sweden, I could say “I am Swedish”. But what about the heritage I received from my Mother? I could not exist without her, so, if I am like a trunk of a tree, I am not just “Swedish” but I am a blend of “English” and “Swedish”. I am more like a candy cane: a spiral of two things (mother and father) that flow up into all subsequent branches.

However, If I say only “I am Swedish” I deny being English. If I say “I am English” I deny being Swedish. To name one and ignore the other is an insult to the one I fail to mention. It is not a complete description of who I am. If someone wants to know more about my national heritage than just that I am an American I would say I am a mix of Swedish and English.

Think about race. The same issue (mentioning one and ignoring the other) arises when talking about our racial heritage. In fact I am a blend of whatever racial background my parents provide. In this country this seems to be an issue for people of mixed African and European racial origins. Some seem to prefer to refer to themselves only as “Black”. True, a few others choose to refer to themselves only as “White”; but when they do that we say they are "passing".

What of their true heritage? Why is there shame in having a white heritage? Why is there shame in having a black heritage? In fact every one of us has a complex mix of cultural, ethnic and racial diversity that serve to make us the unique person we are. This has become an issue with charged emotional content in this country resulting from our national history infected with slavery and racial discrimination. It really doesn’t much matter to most of us in the USA when we divide ourselves by country of origin. But when we divide ourselves by the notion of race it becomes a big deal to some.

The trouble with the tree analogy I used at the first is that my branches don’t stay branches. They become trunks themselves as they unite with someone else’s branch. My children get married. They (the two of them, man and wife) become a trunk that produces branches: they have children. I love my children. I love my grand children, and cherish who they have become. They are a mix contributing to the makeup and future of the Clan. We are a tree: roots, trunk and branches. My grandchildren, as much as my sons, are my blood. And through the blood of my grandchildren my sons' wives have become my daughters.

If at some future point someone were to inquire for a more perfect definition of my grand children's heritage than simply "American" I would feel slighted if the grandchildren or great grandchildren identified themselves solely as "White" or “Black” or “English” or “Swedish” and ignored their other roots.

There is too much to accomplish in a family that is positive, that builds and feeds and shares all that has made this “tree” healthy and beautiful.

WHEN “REGULAR” IS NOT ENOUGH

I once attended a church where where it appeared that I made two of the clergy angry.  One was older.  He never smiled at me or ever gave any indication of welcome, let alone kindness.  Once or twice he reached around behind me to smile and welcome another.  If I had committed some great offense I was never shown what it was.

The other was younger and phoned me up to ask why I had not provided an “Exit Interview”.  He seemed quite put out about it.  I neither executed any “Membership Document” nor verbally expressed an interest in becoming a “Member”.  I thought being a member of the Body of Christ was enough.  If there was a contract written, stated or implied I was ignorant of it.  Perhaps I was wrong by being a regular participant in the worship and providing them with a portion of my tithe.