Vacation Reading

During vacation last week I read the book The Tender Bar by J.R. Moehringer. The book is a memoir of his life and the place a neighborhood bar played in 'raising' him into a man. He grew up fatherless and had three primary living situations: alone with his mother, with his mother, aunt, uncle and cousins at his grandparents’ home or at his grandparents’ home without his mother. His grandfather was not a good man so he ended up identifying with his uncle who worked at the bar. J.R. becomes attached to the men at the bar and the acceptance he found from them. He writes, “Everyone has a holy place, a refuge, where their heart is purer, their mind clearer, where they feel close to God or love or truth or whatever it is they happen to worship. For better or worse my holy place was Steve’s bar. And because I found it in my youth, the bar was that much more sacred, its image clouded by that special reverence children accord those places where they feel safe.” He is a skillful story teller and writes about his past with honesty, kindness and sorrow. As you might imagine alcohol, and the damaging impact it can have when it is the focus of a person’s life, is a large part of the story.
One of the things that struck me as I read was that he did not hurry to get to the redemptive part of his life. He actually leaves that, for the most part, unaddressed. As the narrative of his life unfolded I was struck with the sadness that surrounded him. He did not pretend about this and he describes the way he tried to cope with it. He didn’t hide or cover up the painful parts of his life or the way he falteringly tried to deal with the pain. He was also candid about the ‘salvation’ alcohol and the bar brought to him. Reading it made me realize how we do ourselves a disservice when we marginalize painful, even largely sinful, parts of our lives. Not that I think sin should be glorified but we don’t have to be afraid of it. We should be sober about it and certainly aim to avoid it, but when recounting episodes where it is or has been alive in our life (it is always alive to some degree), it can be helpful to slow down and unpack what was really going on. As we are not afraid of sin and can discuss it meaningfully it can aid in a growing freedom from sin. It can become clearer why we gravitate to it, how we use it to hide or blame, and how our life is not all black or white. In addition, we are being sanctified in the midst of sin. If he was to write off or marginalize his connection to the bar it would be impossible for him to see some of the grace that pursued and upheld him through the years his life revolved around the bar. The miracle of what he realizes and becomes seems more glorious as it emerges out of the background of the bar. We so often have to find the good, or prove that God is working or make our life a justification that God is real that we overstate or over appreciate the good and naively believe that things are better than they are. When we can be more honest and more courageous and talk about the good and the bad together the good often emerges as a surprise, as a gift, as something to be nourished and cherished and held onto for the nugget it is.