Thanks, mum and dad
A quotation from the ancient book of Proverbs has special relevance for me. ‘Hear, my son, your father’s instruction,’ says the text, ‘and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.’
Mum would read Bible stories to us little children. In fact, whoever was babysitting would open the Hamlyn Illustrated Children’s Bible and read for us. We lived in the shadow of the parish church. None of us was Bible-bashers. But we loved its stories. Amid this storytelling, a fledgling faith was born.
MONASTIC FLAVOUR
When dad died and mum remarried, the ceremony took place in a Catholic church. Our town had a Benedictine influence, so I guess the geography always had a monastic flavour. Two relatives were nuns - on both sides of the family, as it turned out.
As the years went by, my stepfather never forced his beliefs on us. He went to mass and I chose to attend ‘the Lord’s supper’ at an evangelical chapel. That’s when I started to wage war against him. I launched a campaign of armchair sectarianism at my stepdad. Shame on me.
I would attack every single one of his beliefs. He’d sit there and take it like a man. Bless him. I would go to bed with my big Bible, content I had challenged my papist dad. What a horror I was.
One day, I grew up. The cold, hard, Protestant ice I’d packed in around my heart, began to thaw. I started to ask my dad about his faith. I learned a lot. When mum was seriously ill, he prayed for her healing with the laying on of hands. She came out of hospital and had an extra year of life.
SACRED STORIES
Eventually, mum passed away. And later, dad went into a rest home. I made sure mass was celebrated for him on a regular basis.
When he died, the funeral director said, ‘Oh, your dad was Catholic? They have a special coffin, very ornate’. I smiled. That summed it up. My chosen evangelical path was austere, devoid of mystery. Dad’s Catholic journey was a multi-sensory experience, rich in symbolism.
At his funeral, a gentle priest led us in a musical liturgy. We sang blessings over dad’s coffin. The priest sprinkled holy water over it, to remind us of his baptism and his new birth in heaven.
Thanks, mum and dad. You gave me a love of the sacred stories, and a deep appreciation of the divine mystery. I’m still learning.
