Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Old Man

Luke & Dad's Fifth Year and a Half

One of the perplexing things about getting older is that you realize you haven’t drawn conclusions that, as a youth, you were certain you would. Take my feelings on God. I would’ve thought I’d have God all ironed out by now. All it took was one question from an inquisitive son to expose the shoddy workmanship of my personal religion.

“Daddy, did you know God is an Old Man?”

Glancing at Rachel, I was surprised by the question. I’d never heard you interested in God. I was admittedly pleased too because, for a religious question, this one I could handle.

“Actually, God is not a man. He is everywhere, in everything.”

Scraping God like butter over the entire universe fits my thinking. God and the universe being one allows for every possibility. It leaves open the possibility that heaven exists, that the soul perpetuates, that purple aliens will eventually show up.

“If God is everything, can’t he be an old man?”

The issue with all those possibilities: you can hide in them. And then forget you are hiding. That is, until your son points out that your logic folds in on itself, contradicting earlier statements.

“Dad, Bryce told me God is an old man at school. You don’t know and he knows.”

My opinion carries less weight than a fifty-pound kindergartner? This is another suffering of age. I may face a reckoning for my incomplete God assignment, but I’m not going to be shown up by a kid. Faith, logic and experience compete within to make a great man, but every now and again you summon the animal spirit, the forcefulness that keeps man safely distanced from enlightenment. That is the example I provide, my gift to you:

“Luke, as far as you are concerned, I am your god.”

Speaking of God and gifts, I’ve been working on convincing you and Cash that brotherhood is a gift from God. The two of you have been competing a bit too much over, well, everything. Even when I buy two versions of the exact same Star Wars Lego toy, somehow there is a battle over the indistinguishable.

So, I’ve been working a new mantra: “Team Weller!” From the moment you both wake up, I make sure we do a group hug and scream “Team Weller!” Whenever there is an upset, I get you both to look one another in the eye and say “Team Weller!” Having a brother is a friend for life: God’s gift to you.