A Christian Upbringing

“Being brought up in a Christian home is hard on a child.”

I have heard variations on this comment at various times and it has set me thinking. In fact, I have begun to feel somewhat bitter towards my parents, who gave me a thoroughly Christian upbringing.

As I subscribe to the new ‘psycho-theological’ view that old grievances ought to be rehearsed rather than forgiven, I have decided to express my resentment openly. I can't bear to let this bitterness go and I don't want to become twisted by keeping it in.

My Mum and Dad have got so much to answer for that I hardly know where to begin. The more I brood, the more I bring to light. The violence they did me falls into three main categories—roles, restrictions and indoctrinations. Permit me to mention several examples of each.

My father was a dreadful role model. To begin with, there was his attitude toward women. For example, he actually treated my mother with respect and insisted I do the same. Other kids had Dads who gave their Mums a bit of physical and verbal abuse. But not my Dad. He gave me no lead at all on how to keep a woman in her place.

Then there was the example my father set in his everyday speech. The colourful language so expressive of the average male never graced his lips. He rarely raised his voice and he never swore. How unreal can you get?

As for drinking, my father was a shocking role model. He was an abstainer . He went to prayer meetings while other Dads went to the pub! I felt so embarrassed. It's true that he never came home from a prayer meeting and belted mum or vomited on the carpet, but where's the excitement in life?

Then there were the things I wasn't allowed to do. As you will have gathered from my earlier comments, my father wouldn't let me swear or give any lip. But that's not where the restrictions ended. For example, Dad wouldn't let me watch lots of stuff on television and, as usual, Mum backed him all the way. One programme after another was either ‘not suitable’ or ‘too late at night’.

Another thing I wasn't allowed to do—and this is a particular source of bitterness—was play sport on Sunday. My parents kept me from the nation's main religion and made me go to Sunday School and church instead. They thought my soul was more important than my body. You can imagine how that has stunted me spiritually and scarred me emotionally.

Then, when I was of an age to be interested in such things, I wasn't allowed to smoke or booze or place a bet or take a girlfriend into my bedroom. All the things that make life worthwhile were forbidden me.

This brings me to the matter of indoctrination. My parents weren't just church-goers and do-gooders. They actually believed what the Bible says about God and man and Jesus—that we are sinners saved by grace through faith in Jesus Christ. Now you will see immediately that such a belief involves three utterly repugnant notions. The first is that we are sinners. Can you imagine an idea more likely to damage a child's self-esteem? The second is that we are helpless to save ourselves and therefore dependent upon Someone else. Can you conceive a notion more calculated to sap a child's self-confidence and self-reliance? The third repugnant thought is that Jesus is the only one who can save us. Can you imagine an idea more likely to create intolerance and bigotry in a formative mind?

My parent's faith affected even our material circumstances. They took quite literally the command to “seek first the kingdom of God”. When I saw them putting money in the offertory plate, I often thought of the soft drinks and lollies and toys that other kids enjoyed. What kind of parent would give money to God when they can't afford to give their son a few bucks each day to spend at the school tuck shop?

Well, as you would expect, my upbringing has had a lasting impact on me. I can't get the hang of drinking; I feel uncomfortable with coarse language; I'm not keen on letting my own kids watch certain programmes on television; I'm a wimp with my wife; and I can't shake the conviction that “the things that are seen are transient, but things that are unseen are eternal”.

Anyway, I feel better now that I've bared my soul, as it were. It has helped to clarify and confirm my grievances against my parents. I am thinking of becoming a counsellor to help other victims of a Christian upbringing. With my background and insights and sympathies, I think I could have a real ministry.