Memories of Max - A Father's Story

Chapter 6 - Reactions

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There is the religion of the Third World, where people need some hope, some faith to get them through their daily lives. I understand this.

There is the religion of the average person. Sometimes this religion is used for hope and sometimes it is the basis behind leading an upright and moral existence. I understand this and have met people for whom I have the utmost respect because of the way that they live their lives based on their interpretation of their religion.

Thirdly there is the religion of zealots. This I do not understand. This is the religion of absolutes. This is the religion which says you are right and everyone else is wrong. Black and White. There is no room for the fuzzy imprecision of the real world. This is religion that says you must show everyone else the failure of their ways. This is the religion of fools and bigots.

After Max’s second diagnosis for cancer we were sent a letter by a family relation. It said how she was thinking of us and her congregation were praying for Max. We got a number of letters with a similar message and I was deeply grateful that these unknown communities had found places in their hearts for us.

This letter, however, also said that it was their prayers that had delivered Max from his leukaemia and that they would also deliver him from this cancer too. The letter suggested that whatever the doctors did or had done was meaningless and that it was their love of God that had saved Max from his leukaemia.

Enclosed in the letter was a ‘miracle card’ with a picture of Jesus. We were told that if this was kept near his bed then all would be well. I threw up my hands in desperation with this complete lack of empathy. We were living in the twentieth century. I had watched the patience, and dedication of the doctor's and nurses. I knew the love and care that we had given to our son. I had watched as crisis came upon crisis and how Max had crawled through it all to emerge out the other side. But none of this was relevant. It was all down to a small group of bigots that he had survived his leukaemia.

I needed a vent for my anger and this letter provided the opportunity. I could not believe that anyone could be so insensitive to our situation. I was furious and ripped up the card and was going to destroy the letter but thought that it might upset Sara. Max died and I wonder if in their eyes my rejection of God justifies his death. Black and White. It's so easy when you see the real picture.

The second religious letter which we received was so offensive it was laughable. Both Sara and I read it with incredulity and immediately consigned it to the bin.

The letter was from a childhood friend who had gone off the tracks with drugs and alcohol. He found his salvation by becoming a born again Christian.

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