Monica, the pious, long-suffering mother of Augustine, for whose soul she shed many tears because her greatest desire was to see him leave behind the Manichean heresy and become a baptized Christian, was not only a terrific mother but, as Augustine tells in his Confessions, she was also an infinitely patient and loving wife to a difficult husband (the unbelieving Patricius, for whom Augustine seemed to have little affection), and a wise and devoted daughter-in-law to a woman who otherwise might have made life even more difficult for her and her husband. To our modern sensibilities Monica probably put up with more than she deserved from Patricius, but then again, this was a pious woman who put her faith and the covenant of marriage above her own temporal comfort and happiness. Whether male or female, we can all learn from her example.
“She never ceased to try to gain him [Patricius] for you as a convert, for the virtues with which you had adorned her, and for which he respected, loved, and admired her, were like so many voices constantly speaking to him of you [God]. He was unfaithful to her, but her patience was so great that his infidelity never became a cause of quarreling between them. For she looked to you to show him mercy, hoping that chastity would come with faith. Though he was remarkably kind, he had a hot temper, but my mother knew better than to say or do anything to resist him when he was angry. If his anger was unreasonable, she used to wait until he was calm and composed and then took the opportunity of explaining what she had done… Many women…used to gossip together and complain of the behavior of their men-folk. My mother would meet this complain with another – about the women’s tongues.
“…Her mother-in-law was at first prejudiced against her by the talebearing of malicious servants, but she won the older woman over by her dutiful attentions and her constant patience and gentleness. In the end her mother-in-law complained of her own accord to her son and asked him to punish the servants for their meddlesome talk, which was spoiling the peaceful domestic relations between herself and her daughter-in-law. Patricius, who was anxious to satisfy his mother as well as to preserve the good order of his home and the peace of his family, took the names of the offenders from his mother and had them whipped as she desired. She then warned them that anyone who told tales about her daughter-in-law, in the hope of pleasing her, could expect to receive the same reward. After this none of them dared to tell tales and the two women lived together in wonderful harmony and mutual goodwill.” (194-195).
What does it look like for a father to wisely and lovingly instruct his children in the realities of life? It looks like James Garfield (1831-1881), twentieth president of the United States, turning to books – those reliable and patient teachers – to teach his children a lesson in the difficulties of life, from Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine and the Murder of a President (Anchor, 2012) by Candice Millard (given to me by my dear parents-in-law):
“Searching for a way to teach his children this hard truth [the inevitability of death], to prepare them for what lay ahead, Garfield had often turned to what he knew best – books. After dinner one evening, he pulled a copy of Shakespeare’s Othello off the shelf and began to read the tragedy aloud. ‘The children were not pleased with the way the story came out,’ he admitted in his diary, but he hoped that they would come to ‘appreciate stories that [do not] come out well, for they are very much like a good deal of life'” (19).
Everyone believes something.
Some give this more thought than others and develop a consistent set of beliefs, while others take the buffet table approach – choose and take what you like and if it no longer serves or pleases you, leave it aside and don’t bother picking up after yourself.
The household in which German theologian and anti-Hitler conspirator Dietrich Bonhoeffer grew up fell firmly in the former camp, having a lasting effect on the children’s futures as their accomplishments demonstrate.* Lazy thinking and not practicing what one professed were not tolerated, as Eric Metaxas shows us in Seven Men: And the Secret of their Greatness (Thomas Nelson, 2013):
“Karl Bonhoeffer taught his children that having a remarkable IQ was of no use if one didn’t train one’s mind to think clearly and logically. As a scientist, he believed that was of paramount importance. One must learn to follow the evidence and the facts and the logic all the way through to the end. Sloppy thinking of any kind was not tolerated in the Bonhoeffer household. One would surely think twice before opening one’s mouth at the dinner table because all statements would immediately be challenged. This early training in how to think was at the core of the Bonhoeffer children’s upbringing, and it was one reason that Dietrich grew up to have the tremendous impact on those around him that he did.
“Perhaps even more important in the Bonhoeffer family was acting upon what one said one believed. One must not only think clearly but must prove one’s thoughts in action. If one was unprepared to live out what one claimed to believe, perhaps one didn’t believe what one claimed at all!” (92)
* According to Metaxas, Dietrich’s father, Karl Bonhoeffer, was “a scientific genius and the most famous psychiatrist in Germany for the first half of the twentieth century,” while his wife Paula was a brilliant teacher who earned a degree at a time when few women did and homeschooled all eight of their children. Then, the eldest brother, Karl Friedrich, became a physicist who at 23 participated in Max Planck and Albert Einstein’s splitting of the atom, and the middle brother, Klaus, went onto head the legal department of Lufthansa. Their sisters, meanwhile, also were “brilliant and married brilliant men.”