Extras in the House

I grew up in an odd family. Not weird odd, but different odd. Let me explain; most of my school mates in middle class North Shore (Auckland, New Zealand) were just Mum, Dad, two kids and Ben the Labrador. But we were different, we had extras. I remember when I was about five, my Grandpa, affectionately known as Gramps, came walking down the street toward our house, with his suitcase in tow.  He was a war veteran with an alcohol problem, and had just gotten out of Hanmer Springs rehab, marriage fallen apart, with nowhere to go but our place. He stayed with us for the next fifteen years, often sharing a room with me. We would talk all night, arguing about rugby, and race relations. None of my school friends shared a room with their grandfather.

But he wasn't the only extra at our house. There was Jim, who stayed for a while, he got kicked out of home and needed a bed, so stayed with us. Dad caught him sneaking home one morning after spending a night in a barn with dutch reformed girl (oops). Then there was Rangi who stayed for a while, a big affable Maori bloke, who pinched a whole lot of Gramp's undies and singlets the day he left. Thomas was an interesting little kid who ended up with us too - had a past that would make you cry to hear about. He had a lisp and a shock of blonde hair that he often cut himself. One day he drove our van into the fence and did a runner. I can't forget Tui, the crazy old kuia (1) who stayed on our lawn in a campervan (I think she killed the goldfish). There were others, each with a story, each wonderfully wild in their own unique way.

My parents had this beautiful way of including all sorts into our family. I'm not sure I always appreciated it at the time but now I'm deeply thankful for the way they taught me about family life. It's a small wonder that my wife Bridget and I ended up as foster care givers for Iosis, the Baptist Social Services. I'm just not sure if I know of any other way to do family, than with a few extras kicking round the place. By making room for others it feels like we have made a bit of room for Jesus. His idea of family values seemed a little odd too. When confronted by the ‘pressing needs' of his own family Jesus responded "Who are my mother and my brothers?" Casting his eye to the rabble around him, he then comments, "Here are my mother and my brothers." (from Mark 3:31-36).

Now, that I can relate to.

Counting the Cost

It's no cake walk though, I'll be honest. Opening the door a little wider to others is very hard work. A few extra holes in the walls, the odd broken window; a whole lot of stuff we could avoid if we went for a ‘normal' family. We once had a kid who was a real challenge. I mean a real challenge. He had the site where we lived in chaos. I had to carry him to his room a couple of times as he was going wild. I felt almost out of control myself. I felt the frustration, anger, and powerlessness deep within my guts. Boy I could have given him a clip around the ears. But... that's the thing, someone probably had. Again, and again, and much more than a clip. He had been through more than I could imagine, seen much more than he, or any child ever should. And it had damaged him. That's why I'm glad for the so called ‘anti smacking' (2) law. Because it protects kids like this from adults who should know better, but sadly don't and who were probably victims themselves once. It protects me from the lie within that might is right. It reminds us that violence is never the answer. Maybe it's time for the Christian community to let go of our ‘rights', so that we can protect the most vulnerable in our society. The vulnerable, who quite often could do with somewhere to stay for a while (our foster boy came for the weekend and went home 2 & a half years later).

Rising to the Challenge

A while back, I received an email from a colleague asking me to invite any people I know, interested in becoming foster parents, to an open evening. Problem is I just don't know any. A social worker from Iosis told me how many available foster care ‘beds' they have in Auckland - twenty. The last census indicates there are around forty thousand Baptists in NZ. Do the maths. What is going on here? Maybe we have focused for too long on ‘nuclear' family values and haven't thought much about the ‘odd' family values of Jesus. I reckon it's time that we Christians start thinking about a ‘no nukes' family policy; in the great spirit of rebellious kiwis, let's kick the doors of our homes open a bit wider. Let's show the watching world that we're all about odd family values! That'll get the neighbours talking.

Mark Barnard lives in Auckland, New Zealand. He trains young people how to do youthwork, and occasionally does some himself. Mark hangs out with a motley bunch called Praxis; www.praxis.org.nz 

(1) Maori for ‘old woman'

(2) The law is a controversial piece of legislation which removes the use of physical force as a legal defence for adults in court on child abuse charges. Unfortunately many Christians in NZ were against the law being changed as they somehow think it is a parent's God given right to hit their children.