Our Children and Our Children's Children

I know I've said this before and I will probably say it again and again: It is amazing how the Bible is truly a Living Word because it changes with us. There is always something new that speaks to us or suddenly is revealed in a profound way, even when we've read the same words over and over.

Right now, my Bible studies have taken me to the Book of Exodus once again. This familiar story of the release of the Hebrews from the hardship of Egypt through miraculous signs and wonders, I've read almost constantly from grade school and onward. This time around, however, the story of the Israelities is taking on a new importance for me and has revealed something I had never noticed before.

Then the Lord said to Moses, "Go to Pharaoh, for I have hardened his heart and the hearts of his officials so that I may perform these miraculous signs of mine among them that you may tell your children and grandchildren how I dealt harshly with the Egyptians and how I performed my signs among them, and that you may know that I am the Lord." -Exodus 10:1-2 (emphasis mine)

Here's the situation. Seven plagues have passed, sending Egypt into misery, but yet the Pharaoh refuses to let the Israelites go. God is about to release the eighth plague upon Egypt in the form of locusts which will devour all the crops that have survived a recent hailstorm. Before He does, He tells Moses that He is doing all of this so that all of Israel will be able to tell their children and their grandchildren about who God is and how He freed them from the bondage of slavery in which they had been trapped as a race for over 400 years.

That passage stuck in my head and was scarcely out of my head when I moved on a few chapters later to just before God released the tenth and final plague in which all the firstborn of human and animal in Egypt would die overnight. Before the tenth plague comes to pass, God instructs Moses how to commemorate this event into a holiday that would eventually become known as Passover.

When you enter the land that the Lord will give you as he promised, observe this ceremony. And when your children ask you, 'What does this ceremony mean to you?' then tell them, 'It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord, who passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt and spared our homes when he struck down the Egyptians.'" -Exodus 12:25-27 (emphasis mine)

As many of you already know by now, my wife and I will be expecting our firstborn child sometime at the end of August. This has been an exhilarating and crazy ride, one that I often have a hard time believing I'm on. During this anticipation period, I have been thinking long and often about how I would like to raise this new child and how to handle this responsibility.

One of the things that God has been revealing to me is what I've shared with you, that it is so vitally important that we tell our children about God. We HAVE tell our children (and just not our own children, but the children all around us) about what God has done for us, the miracles and the every day things. (Sometimes those things are one and the very same.) We HAVE to tell our kids about Moses, Samson, Gideon, Joseph, Jesus, Peter, Paul, Thomas, you, me, and how God is knitting all of us together using us as His thread and Jesus as his needles, and how one day we will all be together again in Heaven, eating from the Tree of Life, having fully ingested the apple of the Tree of Knowledge.

Whoever this child of ours turns out to be, whatever job he takes, whatever school she goes to, whatever experiences my wife and I are able to give him, the only important thing that I truly want for my child is for her to know God and what He has done for us and for him/her.

On that day tell your son, 'I do this because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt.' -Exodus 13:8

Missing the Point

“How far is too far?” When I served in youth ministry, inevitably I would get this question from a brave teenager wanting to know about sex before marriage. While I did not want to discourage a genuine desire on their part to know how to remain righteous in their physical relationships with the opposite sex, I constantly felt a sense of frustration that they had entirely missed the point. When we think about "right" and "wrong" avoiding a bottom line is not the heart behind any "thou shalt not." The heart behind any "don't" should always be a greater yes. Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, "The essence of chastity is not the suppression of lust, but the total orientation of one's life towards a goal. Without such a goal, chastity is bound to become ridiculous." Whether we are talking about sex, lying or any other "thou shalt not," we need a greater yes to strive toward; a goal that is life-giving and good. We will not rationally say “no” to things unless we have that better “yes.” When we (in contemporary American culture) talk about right/wrong, we think in terms of obligation to avoid certain laws or wrongs. The American ethic, we are led to believe, is that we should avoid those wrong things, but beyond that we are free to be whatever we want to be as a person. But, if that is the case, we have no reason for avoiding wrongs other than fear of punishment. Essentially, we are left, in America, with no great "yes." To think that our only responsibility as humans is to avoid wrong things entirely misses the point (much like my teenagers). Jesus offers abundant life (John 10:10) to those who believe. Yet, many Christians and Church-goers live a sad life that is characterized by anger over certain sins (homosexuality being the most prominent today). We have all seen fundamentalist (if that is a helpful term) churches where the totality of "the abundant life in Christ" is about avoiding those sins and speaking out against them. This misses the greater yes. But, I think there is an even deeper problem. The body of Christ represents God on earth; He displays Himself through His people. When the body of Christ only speaks to moral/spiritual issues, the unspoken assumption is that Jesus is irrelevant to everything else that happens on Earth. By doing so, they are missing the point: the greater yes. So, what is that greater "yes?" It is God Himself. Jesus also said that eternal/good life is about knowing Him (John 17:3). In fact, Jesus goes so far as to say that living in that relationship is what causes us to live a full and flourishing life as humans (just read John 15). I have heard people take notice that Jesus spent more time chiding the Pharisees for avoiding the "thou shalt nots" and have even heard people site this as an example for Jesus' rejection of organized religion. Jesus chided the Pharisees not because they were avoiding sin; after all, He demands that we be completely holy (Matthew 5:48 - a task we cannot do in our own power). Jesus chided the Pharisees not because they were "organized"; after all, it is He that founded the church. Jesus' issue with the Pharisees was that they had missed the point: a relationship with God. While avoiding sins is good and necessary, it is not the point. The point is the greater yes that can only be found in a relationship with Christ. By living in Him and following His ways, we will experience the abundant life that Jesus promises. If you are a Christian, I urge you to spend less time focusing on the "thou shalt nots" and more time encouraging people to be in relationship with the gracious and loving Jesus Christ. Why? Because anything else is missing the point.

Good Samaritan and Me

Writhing on the ground from a fall, I happened upon a middle-aged man and woman who had fallen into the street during rush hour. Cars zoomed pass narrowly avoiding making the couple tragic road kill. I stopped just shy of them, turned on my emergency flashers and asked what had happen and if they needed paramedics.

It’s no mistake that I read the story of the good Samaritan from Luke 10 just this week. In the story, a priest happens upon a man who was left for dead in the street. First, a priest passes by like dozens of cars probably did before I arrived on the scene. A second man happens upon the man left for dead, and he passed on the other side of the street like the many of the people who were angrily honking their horns and swerving out of the way frustrated by the inconvenience of two hurting people lying in the street. In Jesus’ story an unlikely man, a Samaritan, felt compassion and stopped to care for the man in the street. He got close, bound up his wounds and even went above and beyond by providing and paying for care for the victim. Unfortunately, in my story, there is no good Samaritan. Just me. In that moment, I was what might have been a 4th man in Jesus’ story.

I could have been the fourth man who Jesus could have described like this:
“Yet, another man passed by. Just before arriving at his house, in seeing the man lying in the street, stopped so that he would not feel guilty for passing, but provided only the bare minimum help that he felt was required of him.”
I stopped. I called the paramedics. But, I also kept a healthy distance and then left as soon as the paramedics were on the scene. I didn’t want to get too close. Dilated eyes, slurred speech and an inability to recover equilibrium gave me the suspicion that they were the victim of substance abuse instead of robbers like in the Luke passage. In that moment, I felt like their drunkenness gave me permission to not get too close.

The story from Luke 10 comes from a question. Jesus is asked by a lawyer how to inherit eternal life. Jesus responds with the sum of all the commands; to love God and to love your neighbor. The lawyer, seeking to justify himself, asked “and who is my neighbor?” Jesus tells him this story. Like the lawyer, I was hoping to justify myself. I knew I couldn’t pass and honor God, but I didn’t offer much help either. Now, I realize I might be too hard on myself. I am no paramedic and I am not even sure what “going above and beyond” would have looked like in my story. But, my reaction in that moment is a metaphor of how I treat my neighbors every single day.

When I happen upon my neighbors, I stop and show some compassion. However, I know within my heart that I have a tendency to ‘not get too close.’ I reactively offer the bare minimum care I can without considering how I can proactively go above and beyond to love my neighbor. I give myself all kinds of excuses for this too. I may justify my passivity because of my neighbor’s behavior. I may justify my distance because of a perceived indifference toward me. I may even think I am justified because when I do reach out they don’t reach back. What is interesting about the story from Luke 10 is that neither the reaction nor the attitude of the victim is ever even mentioned. The focus is on the reaction and the attitude of the passers-by.

Lord, give me the grace to be a good Samaritan who proactively loves my neighbors because of my love for You.