Grandma Marion, the reason I insist on using "M" in all my writing, was my dad's maternal grandmother. I never met her; she died a few weeks before I was born. All my life I have heard of her, though. My mother remembers her as one of the kindest, godliest women she knew.
Because I bear her name, I've always felt an extra kinship for her. Even as a kid I can remember wanting to be like her, to be a woman of God, a woman of kindness, a woman of love.
I'm still working on that!
There is another way I'm like Grandma Marion, though, that I never wanted to be: we have both been divorced. (Or will be as of this Thursday, anyway.)
Grandma Marion's ex also left her with two kids. In fact, he even gave her the unenviable responsibility of telling his parents, which was especially loathsome since they lived next door. My ex told his parents, though I did have to prompt a little as I knew Grammy calls every week like clockwork, and I didn't want to have to a) break the news or b) lie, which I am genetically unable to do without experiencing such overwhelming guilt that I have to immediately confess it which defeats the whole purpose of trying to lie in the first place!
My great-grandmother then got another blow: a replacement wife. A cute little Irish lass, straight from the Old Country, with the endearing accent to boot.
And the saga deepens. Her former father-in-law proposed . . . and she accepted. Picture that, if you can. She marries her father-in-law, moves in right next to her ex and his new wife, and somehow manages to gain the reputation for never having said a bad word about any of them. She even visited her ex . . . and his wife . . . and from all accounts was as friendly as one could possibly be.
I admire her stoicism . . . her holiness. And yet, I have questions. Was she in love with her father-in-law? They seem to have respected each other, but was it love or security? Did she remain "in love" with her ex? Did she make her choices in order to remain close to him or in spite of it? Was she jealous of Muriel? Did she sometimes secretly wish their marriage ill? Or was she happy with her new life and happy for them . . . or had she stopped "feeling" anything about them at all?
I have asked my grandmother these questions. She can't answer them. Grandma Marion never spoke of it.
I wish she had.
This kindred spirit namesake of mine walked a path so similar to mine in a time when divorce was something shameful and marrying your father-in-law tantamount to incest. What struggles did she face, moving back in with her mother with 2 kids, remarrying, moving back to the site of a first marriage, raising the children in what can only be considered a very unconventional situation?
How I would like to sit down and hear her story from her own lips, the unedited version . . . or at least the version edited by her own perspective.
Why does it matter? I'm not sure. But it does. I feel a sense of loss at missing so much of a story that I feel would inform and enlighten my own.
I think that is part of why I am blogging. More and more I'm discovering the power of our stories. Everyone's stories. I've journaled since I was a kid, but I'm learning our stories are not just ours. In a sense, they belong to us all. Sometimes it is someone quite different from us who helps us truly define ourselves.
And nowhere is that more true than in our families of origin. Theirs are the genetics, the patterns, the beliefs that shape us in ways conscious and unconscious. Perhaps that's why the Bible is structured as a story. In reading the history of humanity and redemption, we find ourselves.
Much of what gets recorded on this blog is drivel. Perhaps most! But one day my kids will have the opportunity to read these thoughts, only lightly edited for public consumption. I hope that when they come to this one, they have a moment of thankfulness that their mom didn't keep her secrets secret, that they don't have to guess at what was inside her . . . they know. And I hope it blesses them.
And I hope it blesses you, dear Reader. And maybe it will encourage you to leave a few words for the ones coming behind you. Your life is precious, rich, and remarkable. You are precious, rich, and remarkable. What secrets are you keeping that maybe should see the light of day? Don't be afraid . . .let the Light shine in!
Part 1:
ReplyDeleteYour great grandmother's story is indeed a disturbing one, but not without precedence in Scripture.
There are many short-sighted "Christians" who would would form glib judgments of this story by misusing passages such as Amos 2:7 and Ezk 22:11. Their shallow condemnation of your great grandmother will be answered by God's own judgment of them as shallow, as judging "by mere appearances" (Jam 2:12-13, Jn 7:24).
A good student of Scripture knows the Deuteronomical requirement to "carefully inquire," and can see that the context of Amos 2:7 and Ezk 22:11 is that of exploitation, i.e. grasping after aggrandizement and pleasure without any notion of responsive care and provision. This disqualifies such passages from describing your great grandmother's situation.
The closest parallel would be the levirate marriage of Deut 25, specifically it's presaging by Judah and Tamar. There are some obvious differences, but the idea of provision and raising of children, where a first husband has died or failed alltogether, echoes this beautiful aspect of the Law. Your great grandmother's second marriage was clearly about provision and raising up; certainly not about exploitation. Note how this ties into the marriage requirements of Ex 21, which form the basis of the marriage vows: hold, keep (provide), cherish. Note also that Christ reaffirmed Exodus 21 in His affirmation of the Law in Matt 5, affirming that its grounds for divorce are not negated by the "for any cause" discussion between the Pharisees and Christ. Paul's own discussion in I Cor 7 is based on Ex 21. In other words, the faithfulness of holding, keeping, cherishing identifies the Law’s goals as guarding the Wellspring rather than giving us dead checklists to maintain appearances.
God's Spirit, His very finger Who wrote the Law (Matt 12:28, Lk 11:30, Ex 31:18), renders judgement based on the root of responding by providing (=love), or desponding by exploitating (=contempt), not by the branches of "mere appearances." Paul's letters to the Corinthians reinforce this masterfully, orienting them toward what He wrote to the Romans: “love must be genuine,” because. “love sides happily with truth.”
Alistair Roberts' insightful expositions on levirate marriage and its connection to Genesis 38, found in the Theopolis podcast, are helpful in elaborating this connection.
Part 2:
ReplyDeleteThere are indeed parallels between yourself and your great grandmother in terms of the pain you have experienced, though the resolution will be different for you.Consider the parallel between yourself and the later (6th and 7th) generations of Judah's line.
In both these generations, great bitterness was present at the beginning of the narratives: Rahab and Salmon both lived lives of incredible desolation (life was figuratively and literally a desert) which God transformed into the most amazing love story in history, still wondered at by Mary, her sons, Matthew (Mary's biographer), and the author of Hebrews. The same is true of Boaz and Ruth, who both were bereft and in bitterness (with Naomi), but who
incarnate one of the most beautiful stories of antiphonal responsiveness Scripture presents: there are clear parallels between the antiphonal structure of Ruth and that of Psalm 145.
Overall, both generations incarnate the blessing of Psalm 85:10-13: "Love and faithfulness meet together; righteousness and peace kiss each other..." This you have already recognize as the Law worked out in narrative, the predominant form in which God communicates his Law.
As far as I ken, I do not see the ending of your story paralleling that of a previous generation, but taking a different shape, like the two later generations of Judah's line: a regeneration beyond what you could think or imagine.
Other indicators of this parallel are present, including a the parallel between our precarious civilization and the disintegrating city of Jericho. The fall of Jericho was a presaging of what God has consistently done throughout history: crushing Cain's despondingly restless city-building and ruling-it-over-others progeny in order to deliver "the just who live by faith" into a broad place where "righteousness and peace kiss."
I think you and I can both admit we have grown up in a civilization which has no idea what communion truly is. It has perverted both the Eucharist and marriage (both of which are consummated with body and blood), into a mechanistic and exploitative parody of the wellspring of life. The dead view that both Eucharist and marriage are like pieces in a puzzle, which are indifferently fitted into one's life, is the view of Jericho, which seems to be the view of your ex, who traded you in for another (younger is implied by your post) model, as if car shopping. This is not the view of Jerusalem--not of our city of fullness/peace, ruled by the King of justice/righteousness.
Through our respective experiences, God has rightly killed misplaced faith, and redirected all our hope out of the shifting sand which is man (Jer 17:5), and into the Rock, Who is the Creator of Heaven and Earth (Psa 124). Even our very own understanding He has shown to be deficient: as safe to lean on as a splintered staff. Far better to wait daily at Wisdom's gate, to "wait on the Lord" who "instructs us in the way chosen for us" (Psa 25).
So much of life is about learning to "hate what is evil, and cling to what is good;" about figuring out who is a swine and a dog, and who is a pearl. The pain involved is like an exclamation mark: emphatic punctuation, lest we forget the lesson (see I Pet 4:1). This is the story of all saints, and the reason we sing the Song of Moses as the capstone of our life's narrative.
I am not without apprehension regarding the path ahead. God knows the plans he has for His children, but the light of hope shines most brightly just as darkness makes its fiercest and most blinding assaults. Standing at the crossroads, one must insistently ask (per Psalms 25 & 143) which way is the good and ancient way, how to navigate through an encompassing dark fog that is imposing, pervasive, and disorienting.
Yet hope shines by the guiding lamp of His commandments. He hems you in behind and before, and His plans for you are good. Therefore humble yourself, delight in Him, and He will give you the desires of your heart.