I have an adopted mixed-race sister, born in 1968. It’s only just occurred to me that this makes her not just a ‘love child’ but a child of the 60s’ ‘love revolution’. Apparently, her genetic parents were lively, interesting young people in swinging London; no doubt swept along to some extent by the wave of idealism and ‘free love’ of those heady times. Not a parentage to be ashamed of, in many ways.
But in other ways, my sister’s history, and indeed that of my whole family, speaks of the destructive long-term impact of the break down of traditional sexual morality and family life that set in on a mass scale as a result of the sixties sexual revolution. Two years on from 1968, and my parents were separating as a result of my father’s affair with another creative young person immersed in London life: an out-of-work actress temping at my father’s office. This separation, and the divorce that followed it, was an enormously traumatic event for my mother, my siblings (adopted sister plus genetically related brother) and me. We carried the scars of it for many, many years afterwards. Our subsequent relationships have all been rather fragile and have involved unhappy break ups like that between my father and mother; and my own sexual and emotional development was profoundly stunted and distorted by it. It took me decades – literally – longer than it should have done for me to disentangle my confusion and guilt about my sexual orientation and gender identity; and maybe the mixed nature of these, which I now accept (bisexual and androgynous respectively), was intensified more than it would have been if I’d grown up in a happy home with a father I could look up to.
My personal history is of course replicated throughout our society, where now almost as many marriages end up in divorce as don’t, and there are many lonely, unhappy children out there, bearing the brunt of unstable parental relationships and neglect. It’s not an entirely negative picture, however. Different kinds of family unit have developed, including happy second marriages with children from both previous relationships; and many children with only one significant parent in their lives are of course hugely loved and valued.
But an enduring cultural legacy of 1968 and all that is a continuing selfish individualism and irresponsibility that many people bring to their sexual relationships: thinking only about their own gratification and about ‘what’s in it for me’, rather than the long-term consequences of unwanted pregnancies, sexually transmitted infections, and broken hearts and homes. So many people, it seems, are no longer prepared or able to accept difficulty, renunciation and sacrifice as an integral and enriching part of loving relationships, where it is often necessary to place the needs of others and the long-term good ahead of the promptings and desires of the ego and of now. And in many cases, that is because those people lack a knowledge of the greatest good, and the greatest love (that of God himself), in whom all sacrifice is consummated and all suffering – so transitory in the perspective of eternity – is made good.
Those of us – and there are many – who’ve been unlucky in our human loves (as have our children after us, in many instances) but blessed to encounter something of the ineffable love of Christ must therefore offer our struggles and heartaches for those who put their own wishes, dreams and pleasures first, and yet do not know true love and peace: not that of 1968 but of eternity.
(Originally posted on http://btcp.wordpress.com on 18 March 2008.)