We all like to travel. Almost of all of us, that is. See the places that we read about. Have new experiences. Well, if Europe's on your mind, this year think about Greece. And when you make plans, think of Kos. Especially if you're inclined toward the sciences. What's unique about Kos? Kos is the island where Hippocrates was born, supposedly in the year 460 B.C.E . He practiced medicine there and of kos,--pardon the pun-- due to his fame as a doctor, the island soon became known as the mecca for medicine.
What's Kos like? Well, the Asklepeion is there. That's the hospital where Hippocrates practiced his craft. The layout of the rooms is kind of fascinating. And the tree of Hippocrates is there. Legend has it that this particular tree was planted by Hippocrates himself and that he taught his "medical students" in its shade.
If that's true, then the tree is about 2400 years old today, a vintage of the past that creeps into the present. Its trunk is very large but a closer look shows that it is completely hollow. There are a few long, scraggly branches, but they have to be supported by sturdy wooden poles every few feet. You know why? The branches can no longer maintain their own weight. The tree has an occasional leaf here and there and might produce a handful of olives each year, but that's about all. In essence, the tree is nothing more than thick bark.
The tree of Hippocrates can still be called an olive tree in that it shows the essential unique distinctives of an olive tree, but it has long since ceased to fulfill its function. Meaning, it doesn't bear fruit anymore--it has nothing to show for its existence except its form. It has the form but not the function.
Sometimes when we get to thinking about ourselves as parents, we have the tendency to become that tree.
Listen to this story, for example.
"They tinkered with car engines and went to car shows together. They bet on car races together and raced cars against each other. They browsed through car magazines, and were amused to see the car models on the streets. They lived in the world of cars. They talked and discussed, argued and debated about everything that pertained to cars.
But when the son grew up, everyone found out that he was not really fond of cars. And he never developed a fondness for his dad either. The son explained:
"We always talked... but we never talked about me. I grew up knowing more about cars. But my dad grew old without ever knowing me."
And we need to be careful when we're relating to our kids, that we're relating to them with a purpose. And that purpose should be to give them roots and wings.
Roots like the right training in character and values. And wings with which they can soar and fly. When a tree has strong roots it can withstand strong wind. When a bird has powerful wings, it can soar with and above the strong winds.
We live at a time of many winds.
One day, our son or our daughter will tell us that he or she wants to be free. But we hve to prepare them for that freedom because freedom is one of the most difficult tests that is given to man.
Some people think being in prison is a difficult test. But the reality of the matter is for others having freedom is an even more difficult test.
You see, freedom is the right to be wrong; it is not the right to do wrong.
Our son, our daughter will say they want to be free as a bird, not realizing that a bird is not free at all!
A bird actually lives its entire life in a cage - except that it doesn't know it. It is a cage brought about by the things that limit it. Things like
The freest bird, is held in constant check by a net of necessity.
And we need to understand that although our child thinks that he wants to be free like a bird, he is actually held in check by his own net of necessity.
And our role is simply to allow as much of that net of necessity to be provided first by us in the home.
That's why I like this poem written by a parent. Because It shows the balance between roots and wings.
I gave you life,
But I cannot live it for you.
I can teach you things
But I cannot make you learn.
I can teach you right from wrong,
But I cannot always decide for you.
I can offer you advice,
But I cannot accept it for you.
I can teach you to share,
But I cannot make you unselfish.
I can advise you about friends,
But cannot choose them for you.
I can advise you about sex,
But I cannot keep you pure.
I can tell you about drink,
But I can't say "no" for you.
I can warn you about drugs,
But I can't prevent you from using them.
I can tell you about lofty goals,
But I can't achieve them for you.
I can take you to church,
But I cannot make you believe.
I can love you as a son or daughter.
But I cannot place you in God's family.
The tree of Hippocrates - it has no choice. It's a victim of time. But to parent goes beyond time. We simply need to make a choice: to have the form or the function?