“I’ve often kidded folks that when you start working with people, the first rule that you live with is, ‘People are weird.’ We are ALL weird, we are all funny combinations of funny stuff. So, what’s that mean for us? How do you love people that are different in a weird sort of way? Well, you just try to help them, wherever they are.” – Dr. Richard H. Leon
Not long ago I was helping someone from my dad’s former church install some technology so that she could do some volunteering. It was the first time that I met this person but she let me know that she knew both my parents. Then she ran down the list of all that she did for the church.
As I nodded while trying to keep focus on the technology at hand, she proceeded to make fun of the people that she would help as a volunteer, in a “I know more and am more way.”
This is something I saw a fair amount of as a pastor’s kid. The desire of a few people to use scripture and participation to prove they were better. Usually, my dad was the intended recipient of these claims, but in a pinch, the pastor’s family would do. To be clear, there were many incredibly lovely people in the churches my dad led that didn’t have anything to prove. More it was that the small minority who wanted to use righteousness as a measure of their worth were often very vocal.
I don’t believe this is limited to Presbyterians specifically, or religion in general, because I’ve seen this across belief systems and in other healing therapies. The subtle yet important shift between using a teaching as a shield and measuring stick versus actually learning from it.
To me, it’s the difference between me claiming that I don’t have any problems because I meditate versus saying I meditate to better handle my problems and faults.
In the end, this has made me reluctant to state that I’ve achieved any level of enlightenment. First, because I think life is going to remind me that I always have more to learn. Second, because I’m wary that hubris blocks growth.
And lastly, because as my dad said in the quote I used for this post, we are all weird. I’m including me and my beloved dad in that “all.” The trick is to try to love everyone, including ourselves, anyway.
(featured photo is my dear dad)
My book about the conversations and my journey to find what fueled my dad’s indelible spark and twinkle can be found on Amazon: Finding My Father’s Faith
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