Know Your History

"I remember when we had to walk to school in the snow, uphill--both ways." So goes the famous rant, the intent of which is to drive home a point about how much easier kids have it these days. But the kids don't seem to get the point (I certainly didn't). What they learn is that the ranter is an old fogey, intent on telling stories from a past that doesn't concern them.

If there is a fogey book in the Bible, it's Deuteronomy. The people of Israel are on the far bank of the Jordan river, about to cross over into the promised land. But before they cross, Deuteronomy happens. Moses spends the whole book reminding them of everything the Lord has done for them in the past, and repeating all the details of God's covenant relationship with his people. I can see this mass of humanity staged at the bank of the Jordan, ready to cross. But Moses insists on reminding and retelling all their family history first. He says the word "remember" sixteen times in the book. In chapter 11 he tells us why: "Remember today that your children were not the ones who saw and experienced the discipline of the LORD your God: his majesty, his mighty hand, his outstretched arm" (v. 2); "It was not your children who saw what he did for you in the wilderness until you arrived at this place" (v. 5). Without their stories, a whole generation would inhabit the promised land with no idea that it was promised at all; they wouldn't understand that their home was a gift from God, that the place they lived was decided by God and representative of their unique relationship with God. The land of milk and honey is one thing if you grew up in slavery in Egypt, and another if you grew up on milk and honey.

Our stories form a lens through which we view the world. Without them, the very same experiences have completely different meanings. This is true for our children if they never hear our stories, and for us if we forget our own past. This Sunday, each family in our table group will be bringing a story of God's provision to tell the others. It occurred to me while working on our story that my own children don't know much about how God has provided for us over the years, even rescued us in dramatic fashion more than once. I don't expect the kids to be riveted by our stories, and they already think we're fogeys. But the stories are still important. I'd like them to know that my low-income, blue collar upbringing was actually great; that people continue to have wonderful lives who have less money and stuff than we have right now. I'd like them to know that the generous giving of others has made the life we live possible, and that generous giving on our part can do the same for other families, or other kids who don't have families. I'd like them to know that God has seen us through, and the other families at our table also. This week, saying grace around the table will have a whole new meaning.

Next week, I'll post some of the stories that are shared. If you have a story of God's provision, I'd love for you to share it as a comment.