If you want to get your teenagers to turn their eyes heavenward, then when you are sharing a difference of opinion start your next sentence with ‘when I was your age…’ It usually works, and if you time it right you can almost get them to get their eyes to roll over completely in their head. It seems that no matter our age we can always hark back to a time when things were better, and of course when we were better as well.
It has got to the stage that when I try to regale younger persons with my sporting triumphs they don’t even bother to comment, just a fleeting glance that says ‘yeah, right’. The shambling figure before them seems completely at odds with the myth of the toned athlete I once was, at least in my mind. Like fishing stories, the more I seek to impress the more the exaggeration.
In my teaching, pastoring and parenting younger people I try to avoid ‘when I was your age’, and others of phrases of similar impact like, ‘back in my day…’ I am not always successful in that challenge and often have reason to give myself a mental smack on the back of the head. Having said that… in my day, life seemed a little simpler; there were only two generations: young and old, and there seemed to be a fairly clear line of division between them. We even wrote and sung about it. The Who came out with ‘My Generation’ and the Lovin Spoonful sang about a younger generation that challenged the dreams and hopes of their parents. And of course the Animals insisted that it was their life and they would do what they liked. Choices were simple, whatever our parents liked, we didn’t; whatever they were for, we were against. Now of course there are many ‘generations’. Ignoring what came before them, we have baby-boomers, Postmoderns, Gen X, Gen Y, Gen Z, Millennials and who knows what else. Each has a set of defining characteristics that in some way separates them from those that came before, but that line is increasingly blurred.
In the work place we have seen a change from a prevailing ethic of loyalty to the company to that of loyalty to self. On the sporting field athletes are more likely to offer their services to the highest bidder than to commit to their team of origin. Commitment to a traditional practice of faith is being replaced by commitment to consumerism. In almost every sphere of life the rise of the individual is evident and the decline of community follows.
I was recently asked to speak on the issue of ‘mateship’. In Australia it is often seen as the quintessential characteristic of what it means to be an Australian. A character that was forged in adversity and while championing equality rages against rank and privilege. The common greeting ‘G’day, mate’ is universally recognized as being unmistakably Australian. The word ‘mate’ of course predates Australian colonization and was understood in as many cultures then as it is now. Some have suggested that it entered the Australian vernacular through the use of ‘ship-mate’ on the vessels that brought convicts to these shores. The use of a term which refused to acknowledge any rank and to consider all as equal ‘mates’ on board the boat. But others have suggested that the phrase is almost always masculine and excludes more than it accepts.
The likely origin of the word is from the German ‘gemate’ which means to eat at the same table and which gave rise to ‘mess-mate’. A word with similar history is ‘companion’. The idea of companionship and dependence on others almost seems at odds with the sense of rugged individuality that some would say typifies Australians and yet this paradox remains. Geert Hofstede and others that followed him has identified a number of dimensions that define a country’s culture. According to his index Australia scores very high on the dimension of individualism. This suggests that persons are likely to form their own associations based on personal choice rather than belong to lifelong, cohesive groups. Yet on certain days of the year Australians will point to the notion of mateship that was birthed in historical events as being the highest of society’s values.
So on the one hand we want the right to make our own decisions about morality and individual preferences but we want to remain part of the group that demands we share similar ideals and virtues. We are happy to share a meal at the same table as long as we can all choose our own food and have it cooked the way we want. Perhaps the old days were simpler after all. There was a clear sense of, or at least the illusion of, right or wrong, a morality derived from our forebears and generally endorsed by the majority which held society together. Now we live in this poly-generational morass in which there are no clear definitions, were everyone is left to find their own sense of virtue.
A song that was significant in my turbulent journey through youth contained the lines ‘all we need is something to believe in, something to depend on, not to change’. It was not a Christian or even religious song and yet it helped lead me in the direction of something bigger than me that could makes sense of my life and give me a map to live by. I suspect there are many in this present generation, whichever one it is, who are similarly looking for that same sense of dependability and certainty. I found my way in a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, it hasn’t been without its pitfalls and obstacles, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.
Richard W.Foster 