COMMUNITY SENSE

ROOTS AND ROLE MODELS

Mark R. Wenger

Kathy and I have less and less direct influence on the lives of our two daughters, both in college. This is as it should be, another chapter in letting go—trusting, and hoping that they have grown roots that will keep them grounded and wings by which they can catch the wind and soar.

I first heard this mixed metaphor from Loren Swartzendruber, president of Eastern Mennonite University. Roots and wings. The bizarre image of owning both roots and wings sounds like something out of the Lord of the Rings. But it captures well two competing desires I have for our children. Roots—that they be connected to the earth, to wisdom, to God; that they develop stable and enjoyable relationships where they are knit into a sustaining community. Wings—that they be free to venture into the unknown and seek faraway places; that they become individuals who develop their unique gifts and potential to the full.

As nations go, the United States is a relatively young country. Millions of immigrants have come to this place to make a new life. "Be all that you can be," the one-time slogan of the U.S. Army, expresses the mythic personal optimism woven into the fabric of American culture. Individual freedoms and rights are precious. The self-made man or woman is the hero. Our metanarrative tells of pioneers pushing the frontiers. The United States is a place where creativity and individuality rule the roost; it is a nation for sprouting wings.

How then do we help our children also grow necessary roots—the rhythms, habits, and values that honor the past and nurture community? Responsible parents do their best to instill these virtues of character and memory in their children. But there are clear limits to what even the best parents can and should attempt to do.

Good schools, peer friendships, and vibrant congregations can be a terrific help for growing roots. As a parent, though, I hope for something more. Specifically, I want our daughters to develop supportive relationships with other adults. I rejoice when the unexpected happens and I hear their animated talk about someone they’ve come to respect and look up to. It is often a teacher or a coach—someone who shows an interest in them and inspires them. Someone who becomes a role-model.

This is not the same thing as imitating a sports hero or swooning in the presence of celebrity. Such obsessive adulation is fed by a host of sources like People magazine, TV shows, websites, and YouTube flicks fostering artificial intimacy and vicarious fantasies. Why should we care about the newborn twins of unmarried Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie? What difference will it make for us to know why Jennifer Aniston is so happy right now or what possessed Brett Favre to come out of football retirement?

But when Bible teachers Marion Bontrager and Michele Hershberger at Hesston College turned our daughter Regina onto Heilsgeschichte (God’s salvation story) and theology they promoted good root formation. Something similar happened last year with our second daughter Charlotte and her theater instructor Heidi Winters Vogel at Eastern Mennonite University. The sound you hear is me cheering.

These kinds of mentoring relationships have been critical in my own experience. In college and seminary, Willard Swartley taught me theology and Bible. But more than that, he modeled a way of life which combined head and heart, intellectual rigor and personal piety, scholarly pursuit and human compassion that was attractive and inspiring.

While some of my seminary classmates became senior or sole pastors of congregations, I have never regretted putting down roots at age 28 as assistant pastor at Forest Hills Mennonite Church, Leola, Pennsylvania. I learned a lot by watching and working with senior pastor Lester Graybill. I am grateful for these and other mentors whose influence helped give me roots and solid grounding.

This is not a new idea; it is as old as the dawn of time. Moses groomed Joshua for leadership. Naomi coached Ruth how to operate as a foreign single woman in ancient Israel. Jesus called his twelve disciples and poured himself and God’s mission into them. The apostle Paul tutored protégé Timothy in church leadership. The medieval artisan guilds of Europe devised a careful system of apprenticeship for learning from the master and passing on the wisdom of the trade.

In a sense, the contemporary roles of social worker, reading tutor, and spiritual director, among others, are manifestations of this ancient model. Apprenticeship is particularly relevant for learning a profession. The newbie learns the ropes from the seasoned practitioner. The intern works alongside the veteran. The student teacher ventures into the classroom under the watchful eye of an experienced instructor.

Key features of these relationships include: An acknowledged expert and beginner interacting personally over a period of time where the learning occurs by instruction and imitation. Yes, imitation. Jesus said, "I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you" after he washed the feet of his disciples (John 13:15). The apostle Paul wrote this advice: "In your relationships with one another, have the same attitude of mind Christ Jesus had." (Phil. 2:5)

Learning by imitation is not particularly prized in American culture. In fact, imitation is portrayed as the ugly duckling beside the beauties of innovation, self-expression, and individuality. After all, who wants to be a copy-cat when it’s possible to discover your inner bliss as the unique you?

But I wonder whether we endanger our children by pushing them to take flight in anonymous settings of education and employment for reasons of hoped-for prestige and success. In the words of Jesus, "What good is it for you to gain the whole world, yet forfeit your soul?" (Mark 8:36)

Far better, in my view, is for youth and young adults to be in settings where they rub shoulders with teachers, coaches, and other adults who can serve as role models. Where they develop formative relationships with adults whose habits and commitments they can emulate.

Perhaps there is the risk of becoming root-bound, too stunted to be able to fly from the nest. But I believe there is a far greater danger for children in this culture: to grow up rootless without awareness of the wisdom of experience and without a sense of belonging. This is the plight of far too many youth and young adults, I fear. All wings and no roots.

If you are over age 30, take a moment to reflect on the crucial turning points in your life. I have a hunch that at those junctures of influence you’ll see the face of someone you respected and imitated. Why not offer that attention and that kindness to those who are younger?

If you are between ages 12 and 29, look around for persons of experience and wisdom who inspire you. Watch them, listen to them, learn from them.

There is a distinctive joy when the magic of this exchange between the generations occurs. When it does, instead of a generation gap growing, roots of community intertwine in the good earth. With roots connected into the wisdom of ages, children can soar on the wings of the morning and never forget where they are at home.

—Mark R. Wenger, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, is Director of Pastoral Studies for Eastern Mennonite Seminary at Lancaster.