Chess, not checkers

My son and I just “played” chess. He’s five, so it was more of a lesson in a game I love, but having the time with him and sharing this sacred art of devising strategy and executing was precious. He was into in; for a few years now – thanks to my wife who bought the starter set – he and I have had short overviews of where pieces can move and how they can take an opponents piece. He remembered more than I thought he would which actually made the game more fun for me. Sure, he has very little concept of knowing how to balance offense and defense, but having this time with him, having him focused and curious, almost brought tears to my eyes. When I had him in checkmate and I extended my hand to shake his – a true gentleman’s game – he hesitantly shook it and wanted to give me a hug. There was a tear in his eye. I thought he was crying because he had lost or was simply tired. He said he was crying because he was happy. He was happy that he was learning.

Now, if I can impart the relevance of chess and its obvious distinction as an allegory for life to my son, I have more than done my job as a parent. Ok, not totally true, but feel me for a minute: I want my kid to think and then execute. I want him to be assertive – not necessarily aggressive. I want him to and understand defense is equally critical as offense. I want him to strategize and have people around him who have different reasons or purposes in his life. He needs to play his position and understand that everybody else has a role. Some are foot soldiers (pawns), some are generals (rooks, knights, bishops), and the queen, THE QUEEN, is most important and powerful piece he needs to be successful. A good queen will stand by his side. A good queen will devour any opponents who steps in his path. A good queen will sacrifice herself and he should reciprocate. Love her and protect her at all costs.

Father. God.

My father never took me to church. His brother, my uncle, was an Archdeacon in the Episcopalian denomination and they both grew up in the church, but my father – at least to my perception – had no immediate connection to God. Whether he prayed or not, by himself, I do not know. What I do know, however, has that between the ages of about 8-12, he would wake me up every Sunday, make me breakfast, help me to tie a tie, put a few dollars in my pocket and send me off to Sunday school. He would watch me from our house as I walked diagonally across the street to Bridge Street AME church.

I don’t remember being bitter, necessarily, about it then but I might be now. Where was the parental leadership in following God? My father’s example of at least getting up and making breakfast was more than I could say for my mother. She usually called for me to wake up – never leaving her own bed – but did not budge. She was a Saturday-night-owl and usually came home as the sun was coming up. That’s another issue all together.

I do remember asking my father a few times why he and mommy never went to church. Not even on Easter. His response was: “I grew up in church and now it’s your turn to learn about God and decide for yourself what you believe.” Hmmm…. Not sure I bought it then and I definitely know that as I write it now, it is troubling. I have very few complaints about my dad and how he reared me and the example he showed (and still shows) but this one, admittedly, is baffling. You do not put a child in the ocean and tell him to swim; you teach him. If my parents wanted me to learn about God and still draw my own conclusions, they should have taught me their own interpretations. They should have read the Bible with me and explained things the best they could. They should have showed me that effort and faith and discipline were essential for loving God. Maybe if they had, I would not still be so confused and waffle so much. My spiritual foundation is weak.

And, admittedly, I am not consistently doing this for my son. This has to change. The Word of God is the sole necessity we have in this world. It provides us with our two fundamental human characteristics and beliefs: love and faith. How can I NOT share that with my son? I do my best to follow my dad’s example of hard work and responsibility every day and I know I must take a greater step and show courage and discipleship in order to raise my son to be the Godly king/leader he was placed on this planet to be.