Our country was settled, by and large, by principled Christian men and women. They came here to build communities centered on the church, with the goal of passing down their faith from generation to generation without interference.
How did we get from there to here?
Of course, there are multiple factors, but one that has stood out to me as I’ve studied American history is the slide from rugged individualism to a soft but radical individualism.
Rugged individualism was a principle of being self-reliant and, to a large degree, independent from others. It was a practical necessity in the early days of our country. It’s the sort of outlook that made sense among settlers pushing farther and farther into the frontier.
You had to be tough to carve out a life in the wild, a land with no roads, no hospitals, and few neighbors.
I find it interesting that, though our early settlers were hyper-literate Puritans—perhaps the most literate generation in the history of the world—within several decades, the settlers who came to reside in or just beyond the Appalachians were largely illiterate and anti-intellectual, lacking any systematic understanding of Christian doctrine.
Those are our people. This is Appalachia. Even today, you see this suspicion towards systematic doctrine and so-called organized religion around here.
That rugged individualism, that toughness, mutated and degenerated into radical individualism.
This is where the freedom of the individual trumps all. Individual liberty becomes the standard for morality. Life, for the individualist, is all about realizing their goals and desires, even over the good of the community.
There is a lot to unpack there.
But this morning, I want to point out that this mindset is diametrically opposed to the communal, corporate, and intergenerational vision of life found on every page of Scripture.
To have a biblical view of family, you must reject radical individualism and embrace intergenerationalism.
The Bible doesn’t advocate for what we call the nuclear family—that is, mom and dad and kids.
Its vision of the family extends both backwards and forwards.
It includes the grandparents, you, and the grandkids, as well as aunts and uncles, cousins, nephews, and nieces.
It is the extended family.
Over and over again, when talking about family in Scripture, you see three generations emphasized.
You see this even in the “I am” passage of Exodus 3.
Listen, it reads:
"Now Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro, the priest of Midian, and he led his flock to the west side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. 2 And the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. He looked, and behold, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed. 3 And Moses said, ‘I will turn aside to see this great sight, why the bush is not burned.’ 4 When the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, ‘Moses, Moses!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’ 5 Then He said, ‘Do not come near; take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.’ 6 And He said, ‘I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.’"
There are those three generations: father, son, and grandson—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
One reason God reveals Himself this way is because of the covenant He made with Abraham.
In Genesis 12, it reads:
“Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you. And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.’”
I find it fascinating that Abraham, a man called to leave his father’s house and family, a man without a son, so a man representing a single generation, would be used by God to establish a generational covenant.
In Exodus, God keeps His covenant with Abraham by delivering his descendants from Egypt. That deliverance is used by God to expand further and explain his covenant with his people.
This involves His giving of the law through Moses to the Israelites.
And then in Deuteronomy 6:1-2 we read this:
“Now this is the commandment—the statutes and the rules—that the Lord your God commanded me to teach you, that you may do them in the land to which you are going over, to possess it, that you may fear the Lord your God, you and your son and your son's son, by keeping all his statutes and his commandments, which I command you, all the days of your life, and that your days may be long.”
There is again. Three generations. You, your son, and your son’s son.
You see this same intergenerationalism stated or assumed in the New Testament.
For example, it’s in Peter’s Pentecost sermon in Acts 2:37-39.
It reads:
37 Now when they heard [Peter’s preaching] they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, “Brothers, what shall we do?” 38 And Peter said to them, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. 39 For the promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself.”
There it is again. You, your children, and those who are far off. That would include your grandchildren and great-grandchildren and so on.
In 1 Timothy 5:8, we read, “But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.”
This is followed by several verses explaining when the church should care for widows. Basically, they must be godly, without family, and past marrying age.
If they are older widows with family, it is the family’s responsibility to care for them.
In other words, the call to provide for your family is a call to provide for the extended family, the intergenerational household.
This is how Christians think about family and faith. We think in terms of generations. While we are comfortable with individuality, we reject individualism.
We believe that the generations aren’t to be independent or self-reliant.
We believe they are to be interdependent and able to rely on each other.
This is God’s design for the family and, by extension, all of society.
I’ll feel that I have done my job as a pastor and church planter at East River when I see some of my grandchildren taking communion in our worship service. We want to plant a church that lasts generations, and to do that, we must see promises and the gospel transferred from one generation to the next.
Churches and families are like Cooper Beech Trees.
It takes a Cooper Beech Tree 120 years to fully mature.
If those of you with young children plant one today, your grandchildren—not your sons or daughters—your grandchildren will be able to see it in full maturity with their old aged eyes.
Biblical-minded men and women plant seeds to bless future generations with things that they themselves may never see in this life.
We think too small and too short. Think in terms of generations. Your family is Cooper Beech Tree. Give them an inheritance.
I’ll get into the details of the nature of that inheritance next time.
This is a brilliant exposition, and helps me think about the power of intergenerational thinking as I work with a group of men here in Britain (I'm 8th generation American by birth). Our desire is to disciple the church here, which coulddio so much more to empower its men.It's fascinating how God works through every corner of His body; that a stand-alone church in Appalachia can feed me here in London. Thanks, Michael.
This is still the norm in much of the world. Even non-Christian cultures understand the importance of intergenerationalism, although they may have a distorted view of it, through ancestor worship or whatever.
But we have so lost sight of this in America that we had a sort of crazy example here some years back. Sugar Land (suburban Houston) is over a third immigrants, especially Asian. There was a wealthy Taiwanese businessman who had to come to Houston's Medical Center for a heart condition. He decided to build a house in one of Sugar Land's nicest neighborhoods.
But the planning and zoning folks rejected the application, on the grounds he was building multifamily housing! They didn't understand that he had to have a couple of additional living areas in the mansion with separate kitchens for his parents and his wife's parents. This was a house that would have cost several million dollars to build.
Anyway, he tired of Sugar Land, moved down Highway 6 about 10 miles, bought a huge tract and built a whole neighborhood, Sienna, full of big homes. It's both a sad and a funny story, but also an object lesson in how we in the West are thinking way too small these days.