“Darkness is my closest friend.” What despair these last words of Psalm 88 express. God has taken away his friends and neighbours and left him desolate, the writer cries. Many biblical psalms shout anguish, but not all end in such dark lonely suffering. Most encourage us to bring our fears and pain to a listening God “who is an ever-present help in trouble” (Psalm 46).
Nevertheless, in our lonely society, we can identify with this sense of isolation, this pain of friendlessness.
Social psychologist Hugh Mackay has written extensively about our Western culture’s “social hunger”. We are created to connect, he says, but we are lonelier than ever. He lists shrinking family size, breakdown of marriage, more children living with one parent, house design and block size restricting neighbourhood connection, frequent change of address, general busyness, social media, and working from home, as all contributing factors.
A wedding song
While yesterday my psalm was one of darkness, this morning’s was a celebratory wedding song. That’s why I love the psalms. I read one every day because they span the whole gamut of human emotions. They give me permission to pour out in prayer to God whatever my feelings that day.
Yet even a wedding song has a tinge of pain for me as well as joy. I had to plan, organise, and manage my own wedding myself. No family, no long-term companions around me. My husband’s church were very helpful, but neither my parents nor friends were present. In the joy of beginning my new life with a wonderful husband, I didn’t think much about it at the time. It was just the consequence of moving to a new country.
Later, I saw it was the pattern of my life. I had arranged not only my wedding but my earlier twenty-first birthday party (in the days when that was a big event). Then for other reasons, I had little maternal support around the birth of our children. All these solo efforts made me very independent and self-reliant, of course. But it was not necessarily a good thing. It pains me now as I embrace the happiness of having my sons and grandchildren around me in a way my parents did not.
The hero child
I could have learned the importance of relationships from Jesus’ story that begins: “There was a man who had two sons . . .” We think of this narrative as the story of the prodigal son who goes away but comes home to his father’s waiting arms. But Jesus actually gives more words in the story to the older son than to the prodigal. And if I’m honest, I identify more with the older son who thinks he can prove his worth to his father by his hard work.
I am what some call a “hero child”. The problem with being a hero son or daughter is that you come to think all depends on you. What may have begun because of birth position (oldest child, only son or daughter) carries over into the rest of life and becomes an impossible burden – physically and psychologically.
In Jesus’ parable the determined independence of the older son alienates him from his father’s love and the grace of forgiveness which the prodigal experiences. He chooses task and obligation over family connection. We hero children do that too. We may even spurn the relationship the divine Father offers us. We fear being dependant because it suggests weakness and personal inadequacy. Even though we come later to resent the burdens we feel forced to take on.
Celebration
Last weekend we had the Perth launch of my latest book. Some friends took over the arrangements for it with great style and energy, creating a beautiful occasion. Reflecting on their friendship later that evening moved me to tears. Again, this hero child had to acknowledge that friendship and family are more important than any hard-won independence and competence, however valuable they have been in my long life.
And like the older son, we hero children are usually not good at parties or celebration. We worry about the cost, the possibility of excess when people let their hair down, the dangers of not being in control, of acknowledging our personal need for others.
Too bad that the great celebration at the end of this age when Jesus returns is pictured in the book of Revelation as a party – a wedding banquet. My hope is that all us hero children learn to look forward to that occasion with joyful anticipation. And value the relationships we are offered with our Good Father and our brothers and sisters in the family of God.
