A family tree rooted in God

More and more people today are becoming attracted to the idea of tracing their family’s roots. Television may have increased the public’s interest through the creation of shows such as “Who Do You Think You Are?” which features celebrities tracing their ancestry. Often the celebrity is surprised to discover that he or she is carrying previously unknown racial or ethnic links. Sometimes links are thought to indicate personality traits, tendencies toward certain diseases, and even mental health issues. All this raises many people’s interest in what a family really is.

About a year ago, my daughter and I were watching one of these programs, which I generally don’t watch, but the show featured someone we both admire, and I knew my daughter would like to see it. About halfway through, I asked my daughter how she felt about seeing people trace their roots back several generations. You see, my daughter is adopted. She’s never indicated any interest in finding her birth parents or even possible siblings, and she has always said that she’s at complete peace about being adopted. 

So, she looked at me with a slight smile, and said, “My family tree is very short,” while holding up her index finger to indicate “one,” meaning her origin in God. This unique response piqued my interest in what a family tree means. I thought about a person’s historical record, which is based on a human birth, death, and thousands of ups and downs in between. Suddenly I could see that my daughter’s view of that family tree is actually quite profound.

When my daughter was in first grade, her class was given the assignment to draw their family trees. Although she was very young, she had a strong sense of who she was and where she came from. We had always been very open with her about the joy of adopting her, and she freely shared this information with friends. At the top of her family tree, she put God. Then she drew the usual branches down, showing her grandparents, and then my husband and myself, her parents. Her teacher expressed her appreciation for this unique tree. The fact is, she started at the right place—with God—which is where we should all start.

Mary Baker Eddy, as part of her momentous discovery of Christian Science, understood the importance of freeing ourselves from generations of stories and history, both good and bad. In her short autobiography titled Retrospection and Introspection, she wrote: “It is well to know, dear reader, that our material, mortal history is but the record of dreams, not of man’s real existence, and the dream has no place in the Science of being. It is ‘as a tale that is told,’ and ‘as the shadow when it declineth.’ … 

“Mere historic incidents and personal events are frivolous and of no moment, unless they illustrate the ethics of Truth. To this end, but only to this end, such narrations may be admissible and advisable; but if spiritual conclusions are separated from their premises, the nexus is lost, and the argument, with its rightful conclusions, becomes correspondingly obscure. The human history needs to be revised, and the material record expunged” (pp. 21–22). 

I love Eddy’s blunt honesty in regard to the sharing of “mere historic incidents and personal events.” How much time is wasted in telling and retelling personal stories, many of which focus only on neglect, sorrow, and burden? If I’m tempted to share a story of a past sorrow, I like to remind myself that I should do so with the intent of illustrating “the ethics of Truth.” In other words, I try to focus on the healing that resulted from the experience. 

For example, my dad was a rather tough critic and tended to parent from a tough-love point of view. However, today I feel no residue of sadness or regret about our relationship. Thinking of him, I feel only fondness and tender love. One particular event, though, has helped me understand the importance of looking for the “spiritual conclusions” Eddy speaks of when revisiting memories. 

Any human, material record doesn't define us. We image forth our one true Parent, God.

My dad and I were at a company picnic when I was about nine years old, and a public swimming pool was there with a high water slide. I very much wanted to go down that slide, but I was afraid of both the slide and the water. I hesitantly asked my dad if he would catch me at the bottom. When he said yes, I insisted that he promise because I didn’t entirely trust him to catch me. He promised he would. 

I took a deep breath, let go of the top of the slide, and shot down. When I flew off at the bottom, my dad quickly pulled back his outspread arms and stepped aside. Yet, I didn’t go under the water. My feet touched down gently at the bottom of the pool, and I was all right. But I felt deeply humiliated. My dad immediately tried to reassure me, telling me that I had gone down the slide all on my own. But I could feel only a sharp sting of disappointment in him, and in me for believing him when he said he would catch me. 

For a long time this was a sad memory. I was too embarrassed to repeat it to others, and when I thought about it, self-pity reigned. And then, for many years, I forgot all about it. I was deepening my commitment to Christian Science, becoming involved in branch church activities, and learning more about myself and my relationship to our Father-Mother, God. 

One day, out of the blue, that memory came back, but in a completely new light. What had really happened that day was now crystal clear. This time I had a vivid memory of my feet landing squarely on the solid pool floor. I realized I had never needed my dad to catch me in his arms. In fact, divine Love, my true Father-Mother, was already there. My heavenly Father had caught me! There was no need to blame my dad for breaking his promise. He was doing the best he knew how, and his intention was good.

I love to think of that moment, standing upright in the pool. It never ceases to fill me with gratitude. Today, I think of that as a truly holy moment. History has been revised; the shadow destroyed by the light of God’s love.

We have one source of Life, and it is good only.

We would do well to do the same with many of our family stories. We must ultimately be willing to give up memories based on human misfortune, and yield to the truth that we have always been God’s child—perfect, upright, and whole. There has never been a single moment when any one of us was separated from our creator, our Life, God.

In the Bible, in the book of Genesis, we are given what might be perceived as a typical family story. It tells us of Adam and Eve and their two sons, Cain and Abel. Then come family squabbles, division, even murder. Many people believe that this story is the beginning of human history and that we suffer today from their mistakes. But before this story, in the first chapter of Genesis, we are given a different, wholly spiritual record of creation. This chapter makes clear that God created man in His own image and likeness and that this creation is very good (see Genesis 1:27, 31). It is this historical record that Christian Science embraces. 

Any human, material record doesn’t define us. Rather, we image forth our one true Parent, God. We are not descendants of a family tree that is rooted in sin. We have one source of Life, and it is good only. We have inherited our Father-Mother’s harmonious nature and are reflections of the infinite One. Our roots are in divine Love, firmly fixed, well established, with no taint of earthly woes.

Mary Baker Eddy writes, “Man is the family name for all ideas,—the sons and daughters of God. All that God imparts moves in accord with Him, reflecting goodness and power” (Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, p. 515). How wonderful to know that there is only one family name—man—which indicates no race, ethnic history, or genetic disposition, but instead identifies all of us as proceeding from and reflecting God, the All-in-all. How wonderful it is to be part of this rich, diverse, glorious family.