And you must commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commands that I am giving you today. Repeat them again and again to your children. Talk about them when you are at home and when you are on the road, when you are going to bed and when you are getting up. [Deuteronomy 6:6-7 (NLT)]
My husband, son, and sixteen-year old grandson were talking after dinner and reminiscing about Grandpa J, my husband’s father. A man of faith and fun, love and laughter, honesty and honor, he truly was one-of-a-kind. Having died shortly after my grand’s birth, the boy only knows his great-grandpa through photos and some wonderful stories that just seem to get better with time. The conversation gradually turned to the family business, started by Grandpa J nearly sixty-five years ago in the family’s garage. Although my grand had heard some of the stories, others were new and he listened intently.
As the men spoke, my son told his boy a story from when he first started selling for the business. He shared how he learned the importance both of taking responsibility for his mistakes and of quickly righting a wrong. The story was about integrity—doing the right thing even when it didn’t have to be done—and was a better lesson than any number of lectures on honesty and honor. Only three generations were sitting at the table, but a fourth one definitely was present. In my son’s words, I heard not just his father but also his father’s father. Sitting there, I saw Grandpa J in all of the men—their entrepreneurial spirit, humor, zest for life, and, most of all, their integrity. As I quietly listened, I thought how much Grandpa J would have loved to have been there and how proud he would have been of his legacy. Of course, if he’d been there, a game of Euchre would have been in progress!
Sunday is Father’s Day and, as I pondered what to write, I remembered that evening—how I saw Grandpa J in my husband; both Grandpa and my husband in our son; and Grandpa, my husband, and our son in the sixteen year-old grand. Grandpa J, however, wasn’t the only great-grandfather with the men that night. I heard echoes of my own father’s determination and felt his presence, too. Since he died shortly after our marriage, my husband barely knew my father and our son and grand never met him. Nevertheless, even though I’ve rarely spoken of him, without consciously doing it, something of my father has been imparted to my boys through me.
Remembering that night, I saw how each generation profoundly affects the next and the generations that follow. Fred Rogers once said, “One of the greatest dignities of humankind is that each successive generation is invested in the welfare of each new generation.” That’s a heavy responsibility and, sadly, not all of us had fathers who left an admirable legacy. Nevertheless, we all probably had men in our lives who encouraged, taught, and guided us: men who shared their wisdom and faith and exemplified integrity and honor. Let us remember to thank them, if they are still with us, and to thank God for them and their legacy. Just as we shed DNA wherever we are, we leave bits and pieces of our faith, ethics, and values on the lives of the people with whom we interact. Let us all, men and women alike, take seriously our responsibility for the development of the generations that follow and leave only good things behind in the lives of the people we touch.
If you could only sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to the people you may never even dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave behind at every meeting with another person. [Fred Rogers]
Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it. [Proverbs 22:6 (NLT)]
The godly walk with integrity; blessed are their children who follow them. [Proverbs 20:7 (NLT)]
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She washes her hands with soap and water but, doubting the brown liquid coming from the faucet (water that’s unsafe to drink) could rid her hands of germs, my friend also uses hand sanitizer. She’s not in a third world country but at a Native American pueblo less than a half hour from a major American city. One third of its residents live in “poverty” and the rest aren’t much better. Several generations live together in overcrowded homes, no one has appliances like washers, dryers or dishwashers, and cell service is iffy at best. In spite of all they lack, the people she meets are kind and generous. Never apologetic for their homes, they welcome her and always offer food and bottled water; proud of their heritage, they invite her to their feasts. Serving this indigenous nation in a medical capacity, she tries to shake off the feeling of guilt as she pulls into her driveway. She knows that her ethnicity is much of the reason she enjoys a life easier than theirs.
Yesterday was the 40th day of Easter and Ascension Day (or the Feast of the Ascension): the day we remember Jesus’ ascension into heaven. Although Augustine of Hippo and his contemporaries John Chrysostom and Gregory of Nyssa held that the Feast of the Ascension originated with the Apostles and possibly dated as far back as 68 AD, no written evidence of its celebration until Augustine’s time in the fourth century exists today. From his time on, however, it has been a church holiday. Nowadays, it is observed primarily in Roman Catholic, Orthodox, and liturgical Protestant churches.
In Jesus’ parable of the four soils, the farmer’s seed finally falls on fertile soil: the people who do more than just hear the Word. Receiving it into their hearts, the Word takes root, grows, and eventually bears fruit. This is the kind of soil we’d all like to think describes us!
In the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke, we find Jesus telling the parable of the four soils in which the farmer’s seed falls on four types of ground and yields four different results. Although the same good seed is sown over the entire field, only one kind of soil will yield a good crop. Jesus isn’t giving a lesson about agricultural practices; the seed that is sown is God’s word and the soils represent the different responses we have to God’s word. The lessons taught are both for the sowers—those who teach, preach, or witness—and for the soil—the people who hear the Word.
Devotions of the Heart 