Know Jack #511 My Father’s Son

When I was born seventy-some years ago, I came with pre-loaded software. The combination of my parents' DNA determined that I was to have brown eyes, black hair, and grow to be five feet eight inches tall. If you believe writers are born, not made, there is that too. I am thankful to my parents for all those things, even my propensity to be overweight. But how much did my birth make me my father’s son?

When I look in the mirror, I can see traces of him in my reflection. He is there in my temperament. I can take no credit for the good or blame for the bad. All those things were “gifts” of nature, a mix of blessing and cursing that we call humanity. However, who I really am is more than the things I possess naturally.

My father didn’t just give me my looks and temperament. He gave me a childhood filled with lessons that shaped those natural attributes into the unique person who I call me. In both a literal and metaphorical sense, he taught me how to walk, talk, and think. He taught me what to do and what not to do. He taught me right from wrong and then told me to work it out for myself independently of the philosophies of others. In doing so, I became more like him than I ever imagined.

As you may have guessed, I’m headed somewhere with this. An epiphany that I had earlier in the week was driven home to me in church last Sunday. Christianity comes about by new birth. It is an experience, not a belief, and modern churches are very good at pointing this out.

Where modern Christianity fails people today is in talking about life after conversion. We shy away from teaching values, principles, and standing up for our convictions. Love does not abandon its children at birth. It teaches them, nurtures them, and guides them into a mature life. I became a child of God when I accepted the sacrifice of Jesus. Who I am as His disciple has come by the teaching and guidance of His Spirit.

Occupy till I come. It is a command to live and grow into my Father’s son, not to rest upon the laurels of my birth certificate.