Culturally Irrelevant

part 2 - Ahaz and raising kids

Yesterday I stopped with a grandpa with leprosy, a son with nauseatingly dying faith and a grandson on the way. Enter Ahaz. Here’s what Kings has to say about this young man:

Unlike David his father, he did not do what was right in the eyes of the Lord his God. He walked in the ways of the kings of Israel and even sacrificed his son in the fire, following the detestable ways of the nations the Lord had driven out before the Israelites. He offered sacrifices and burned incense at the high places, on the hilltops and under every spreading tree.  (2 Kings 16:2-4)

Now how did that happen? His dad and grandpa weren’t slouches. Sure, they didn’t follow through with the entire covenant, but they did their best, right? Well, I’m realizing maybe the problem’s right there. They did it part of the way. They were half-hearted. They knew what God desired and chose to keep a little back.

The Bible is silent on the details of Jotham and Ahaz’s father-son relationship. Whether or not Jotham was an absentee father who didn’t teach his son, or if Ahaz was somehow emotionally scared by some tragic event. So it’s probably complicated and we’ll never know. But it looks like the saying “like father, like son” is not always true. Yes, Jotham was like Azariah. But because Jotham didn’t advance, there was little chance for Ahaz to stay on the same course. This story tells me that sin is like spiritual entropy, constantly decaying things that don’t move or grow. Chances are that my faith will grow from what my father imparted to me or it will fall way, but it probably won’t just be the same. So Ahaz saw something irrelevant and powerless in Jotham’s life that he didn’t care for, or he just didn’t want anything to do with Yahweh because he wanted the pleasures of sin more.  Either way, it didn’t take. The baton didn’t get passed.

So what can I do to make sure my boys “catch it”? Well, I’m a new dad and I’ve never done this before, but here’s the way I’m approaching it. First, I’ve learned that I’m a steward over my kids. God has trusted me with their care, but ultimately they don’t belong to me. So, everything I do had better be pleasing to their heavenly Father because I’m going to stand before him one day and give an account for my words towards them, my actions towards them and my choices to steward and nurture the gifts within them.

Starting there, I believe my primary responsibility is to protect them and provide for them according to the gifts and grace God has given me. But in the middle of all that is the “how”. And at this point in my life I believe the most influential thing I can do is to chase God wholeheartedly. Really. I mean, to grow in my faith, to have a personal, intimate walk with God that is open and desperate and real. And then, I need to include my kids in that relationship, to let them look in and see it, and to be consistent with it and to let it affect the way that I treat them and talk to them. Katy and I have gathered basic teaching and discipline tools from Scripture and godly counsel, but even good tools are useless if my heart’s in the wrong place. But when my relationship with the Father is right, everything else seems to fall in line. And ultimately, when I’ve done that, it will have to be my kids’ choice as they grow up to pursue God or not. And I believe that they will because of what’s being deposited on the inside of them and the example that’s being lived in front of them, both from us as well as other mature believers who surround them.

Our neighbor’s snow “family” went untouched all day. I guess our kids are a little different.

part 1 – questions and a little history

As a dad I’m asking myself, ”Are my kids experiencing the love of the Father through me? What’s getting passed on to the next generation of Watts boys?” I want my kids’ relationship with the Father to be more  intimate than my own. People say that what one generation does in moderation the next will do in excess. I assume that’s referring to sin, because when it comes to following God things are a little different. With godliness, it seems like what one generation does radically, the next usually does half-heartedly.

Take three generations of kings, for example. You’ve got Azariah (Uzziah), his son Jotham, and Jotham’s son Ahaz…grandpa, son and grandson. The writer of Kings says Azariah “did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, as his father had done.” (2 Kings 15:3) Now he wasn’t perfect. He let the people of Judah offer sacrifices to pagan idols. But he did, for the most part, try to follow God’s laws and serve him. The author of Kings says that God afflicted Azariah with leprosy until the day he died. His son, Jotham, had to govern the palace and the kingdom by proxy.

Jotham was basically Azariah II. He did what was right in God’s eyes (2 Kings 15:34), but, like his father, he still did not remove the high places of pagan idol worship. Even though Jotham did most everything else right, the whole national idol worship thing was a huge deal to God. So, like with his father, God afflicted Jotham. In this case he did it by raising up foreign leaders to fight against him. Even so, Jotham was a case of generational status quo. His faith didn’t get stronger, didn’t grow. And growth is a great indicator of life, which means Jotham’s faith was either dead or dying. Bottom line: status quo faith means dying faith, and dying faith is hot on its way to cold, or lukewarm, which God hates ad nauseum…literally (see Revelation 3:16).

So we’ve got a grandpa with leprosy, a son with nauseatingly dying faith and a grandson on the way. Enter Ahaz. Part 2 is tomorrow, but for now I’m examining my own faith. Is it growing? Am I coasting? Are there areas in my life and my relationships with God and others where I’m just relying on past successes, past experiences or past answers? Am I really seeking for fresh perspective, fresh understanding? Am I asking any new questions about my life or the lives of those around me?

It’s almost April and there’s at least 8 inches of snow in my yard! And it was the perfect day. After a great campout last night, complete with s’mores, a warm fire and books in our big family tent, we spent the morning doing absolutely nothing and then spent the afternoon romping in the snow and building a snowman. Seems like I haven’t done that since I was 7! But seriously, it was pretty cool because I was looking at the snow photo on Katy’s blog last week, wondering if we would ever see something like that again in Tulsa. It kind of bummed me out and I remember thinking, man, that looks like a lot of fun. I wish we could do that again. Kind of like how you feel about Christmas come May. Well, I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but here we are! Thanks, God. You make this journey amazing.

I’ve learned that boys need adventures, even when they’re 3. Our last adventure was a treasure hunt at Hunter Park. This time we planned a Big Adventure Campout. All the rain and snow turned it into an inside campout, but it was awesome and Jack got so excited when we built the fire and put up the tent that I thought he was going to pee his pants! He wanted to make s’mores on the campfire but it was raining. So, he prayed that God would stop the rain, and wouldn’t you know it. It rained hours before and hours after, but for an hour and a half Friday evening, right after he prayed, it stopped raining! Just enough time to build a fire, let it settle into coals and then roast a few marshmallows for s’mores before climbing into our tent in the dining room for some stories. Thank you, God!

Tuesday was D-Day. Woohoo! We celebrated last night at one of Tulsa’s best organic salad bars. If you’re not a salad fan, then that probably doesn’t sound like a big deal. But I’m telling you, after a week of lemons, maple syrup, and no food, followed by 3 more days of orange juice, a big ol salad with fresh veggies was like being in heaven! I don’t want to look at another lemon for at least a month, but Katy and I feel great! We left behind some unwanted pounds, along with allergies, fatigue and a caffeine addiction. We started transitioning out at day 7 rather than day 10, mainly because of muscle fatigue while trying to keep up with 2 little boys. Katy felt great day 7 and probably could have lasted to day 10, but we were feeling the benefits and ready to move on.

Bottom line, it did help to reset some unhealthy habits. It’s more natural now to grab the fruit instead of the chips, to be ok with a single helping, and to drink plenty of water throughout the day. The next time we do this, though, we’ll probably go with a fruit and vegetable cleanse for 3 or 4 weeks or some other program that involves ”solid” calories. The whole not eating thing wasn’t easy, I have to admit. But it’s possible and I’m glad we did it. Thanks for sticking it out with me, Katy Jo!

This idea started during a recent conversation with Tom McClung, a good friend of mine who was recently visiting from Texas. We were walking out of Panera when he hit me with this really interesting idea about thought patterns and how they affect our marriages. That got the ball rolling for me. The very next evening during a meeting at our house, one of our good friends, Cori, talked about the power of thoughts. Here’s a quick highlight:

Through events in my past, I have developed thoughts, subconscious ones, that have grown fruit and dictated my actions in certain areas. I believe God is wanting to do a redemptive work in our minds by exposing wrong thinking and replace the law of sin with His law of grace, mercy, love, and righteousness.

Ok, so put the two concepts together. We habitually tell ourselves stories that lock us into harmful thought patterns that keep us from experiencing freedom in Christ. Wow! Examples. My wife does something I don’t like, maybe it’s something she does a lot, and I subconsciously tell myself a story about why she’s doing it and what it means. The story may be completely untrue, but after I tell myself the same story enough times, it’s as good as true. It has the same power as if it had actually happened.

Take it a step farther. A little girl is abused physically or verbally as a child and never really addresses the emotional wounds. Fast-forward a couple few decades. Her husband says something that really makes her mad and she doesn’t know exactly why. She stomps out, issue unresolved, and does some busy work so she can think. Now the ball gets rolling and she starts telling herself this story about why he said that, what he meant, why she’s justified in being angry and why he needs to grovel and beg for forgiveness. Even if the story isn’t real and that wasn’t really his motivation, it might as well be true to her. And they’re no closer to getting down to the root issues of the frustration, anger and miscommunication.

We all tell ourselves stories at some level. About other people and even about ourselves. Usually these stories aren’t true and they sabatoge healthy communication. A good start for me has been to intercept these stories, to nip them in the bud before they have a chance to grow, and work at getting to the truth instead. A simple example in my life is deciding not to believe my wife is always late for things because she doesn’t value being on time like I do. Instead, I ask what I can do differently to give her the time she needs before we leave. Or it can go as deep as talking openly about major unresolved issues in the past that hamstring the present. Sometimes we need to turn off the imaginary story and just go to the Father and pour out what really hurts and trust that, in time, he’ll open up some things we haven’t seen before.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. (John 10:10)

And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect. (Romans 12:2)

Thanks, Tom, for the insight. And thanks Cori for following God and bravely exploring new territory in your own life so that we can glean from the wisdom and freedom you’re discovering.

In general, most historians seem to write from the perspective of social, economic and political influence and power. Important events are defined by key shifts in power along with the key influencers who motivated or directed these shifts. Interestingly, the writers of the Bible come at things a little upside down and a bit sideways. Take for instance the Old Testament kings. Two of the most politically and economically influential kings after Solomon were Omri and Jeroboam II. The author of Kings says that they did evil in the sight of the Lord and then gives minimal details of their rule. They’re basically sidelined. But then you have guys like Ahab and Josiah and Hezekiah that get all kinds of coverage by the author. Why?

The writers of the Bible saw history from God’s perspective, and what God cared about was whether or not people obeyed his word. For Israel, everything centered around the covenant God had with his people. If they obeyed the covenant, things would be good. If they did not obey it, they were in big trouble. So, biblical historians didn’t care so much if a king was wealthy or influential or politically savvy. They cared about the king’s heart, whether or not he obeyed God’s laws and followed the covenant.

The Old Testament prophets were continually calling Israel and her leaders back to God’s covenant. Back to righteousness, justice, mercy and love. The kings who got the most coverage were the ones who either blew it big and sent Israel reeling into rebellion (Ahab) or the ones who crusaded major reforms, destroying idols and calling the people back to covenantal obedience (Josiah).

What about our own view of history? Everything that’s on TV or in the paper comes at life events from a political, economic or social slant. The secular media doesn’t care about God’s perspective. So, where are we getting our perspective of what’s going on around us? Why are certain events important to us? What motivates us to pray for our leaders or for change to happen?

God, give me a heart to see my generation with your eyes. Let me hear with your ears so that the drawings and yearnings of your heart don’t get drowned out by a thousand other voices. I am constantly judging by what I see and hear naturally and what I discern with my own sense of right and wrong. But here is my mouth and my eyes and my ears. They’re yours, set apart for your purpose. Father, what do you care about? How do you interpret what’s going on in my generation?

part 3 – a burden

When I’m wearing the yoke of constant intimacy with Christ (abiding in the vine), carrying the load that I’ve been given is a joy. I have the grace for it. But when I carry that load, or more than I’m given, from any other “yoke”, I get outside that place of rest in Christ and begin to strive and strain. I start doing things my way, in my strength. That’s where burdens come in.

In the original language of the New Testament, this word burden, or “baros”, meant a difficult or imposing requirement. That’s different than the “load” mentioned before, which is a measured weight that is meant to be carried, like freight being loaded onto a ship. A burden is unmeasured and unfitting. It restricts movement and makes it difficult to be productive.

There are three different types of burdens that I see in scripture: 1) the weight of sin, 2) the traditions of men, and 3) difficulty during trials. In this post I’d like to stick to the first two. Paul covers the first one in Galatians 6: “Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other’s burdens…” (vss. 1-2) Here, burdens are moral faults or the burden of sin. Sin is a self-imposed burden that breaks my intimacy with Christ.

This kind of burden is like a broken arm. The rest of my body may be just fine, but that one area of pain takes all of my attention and keeps me from doing anything else. Untreated sin is a festering wound that cripples my ability to walk in faith with God and in relationship with others. Until the burden of sin is removed from my life, I can’t fully experience life in Jesus.

So a burden can be self-imposed through a choice to get tangled up in sin, and it can also be imposed by those in authority. Leaders in the body of Christ are meant to guide and serve, but often they make decisions out of their emotions or past paradigms and place requirements on people that are not from God. When a leader relies on sources other than biblical truth and the leading of the Holy Spirit, the result will usually be an unmeasured response that imposes a difficult requirement upon others. The pharisees were famous for this, and the early church battled it constantly.

Fortunately, the New Testament gives us examples of heavy burdens appropriately being withheld from the church. In Acts 15:28, the Jerusalem council sent a letter to the Gentile world telling them “it seemed good to us…not to burden you with anything beyond the following requirements.” This is similar to the way Jesus speaks to the Church of Thyatira in Revelation 2:24: “But to the rest of you who are in Thyatira, who do not hold this teaching (who have not known the deep things of Satan, as they call them) I place no other burden on you.”

I’m constantly checking my life for extra burdens. I’ve discovered that I am constantly in the state of adding burdens to my own life and the lives of others, even if it’s in very small, almost imperceptible ways. But the Holy Spirit is in the business of constantly removing burdens and weights. At this point in my life, I’m tired of carrying heavy burdens in my own strength. My only desire to is be yoked to Christ, carrying the load he has given me. Everything else in my life can take a hike!

…let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Heb 12:1-3)

Tonight, Katy and I went with Cori to Temple Israel next to Utica Square. It was an assignment for one of her psychology classes and since we were planning to hang out anyways, we joined her. Rabbi Charles P. Sherman spoke from Exodus 40. His message was “When Our Creations No Longer Belong to Us,” focusing on verses 33-35. Moses finished the work of the temple and then God’s glory filled it so powerfully that he couldn’t even enter it. The point: there comes a time when we have to let go of the very thing we’ve created, worked on or given birth to because it doesn’t belong to us. Moses couldn’t even enter the tabernacle he had built. And Moses wasn’t the one to use it either, Aaron was.

One thing that was eye-opening. We must have sung 20 or 30 different songs, all Psalms or liturgical hymns that were packed with worshipping God as the creator, protector, life-giver, deliverer, sustainer, etc. It was all about him. And while the service felt more like going through the motions, I could see that the intention of the heart was there in the tradition. What the psalmists had intended was for God’s people to be worshipping continually, throughout the service, throughout the day, throughout their lives.

How much time and energy do I spend expecting and asking God to do more for me compared to the time I spend just praising and worshipping him for who he is and what he has already done?