Learning to Honor

I used to fear my father.  When I say that I do not mean to conjure up some image of a little boy cowering from his father's shadow.  What I mean is that as a young child, up to my teenage years, I knew that if I got into trouble, regardless of what the punishment might be at school, it was my father's punishment I feared.  I feared my father's punishment because he could actually take things from me that I wanted, he could actually use physical force in punishing me, and no matter what, I could not avoid him, because I had to go home at some point.  In looking back I do not think that fear was a bad thing, because at times when I was not motivated by common sense and a good intent (children are sinful you know) there was another motivating factor to keep me in line.  Fear is not always a bad thing, sometimes fear has perfectly good and practical purposes.

Lest anyone misunderstand, mine was not a household where my mother simply held back and watched my father discipline my brothers and me.  Remember, (if you've read my previous posts) my mother was a quadriplegic, so there was simply little she could do, in terms of force, to punish us.  My father was the primary disciplinarian in my household just because that was the way things had to be.  I have no idea how things would  have been different had my mother been able to walk.  Such a question is really basically irrelevant to me, because I live in the reality that is, not in the possibility of what might have been.

The reason I bring up the fear I had of my father though, is because it is that fear which taught me to honor those authorities over me.  Because I was afraid of my father, I honored his wishes, I behaved (usually) as he wanted me to behave.  And, because my father wanted me to represent him and my mother well, he wanted me to obey those teachers and other authorities that were placed over me, so long as the rules were just.  As I learned to obey the authorities over me, I eventually learned to honor those authorities.

In honoring others I learned something else as well: how to honor myself.  As I grew up and realized what it meant to honor others, I began to realize that the respect I gave those who had authority over me was the same kind of respect I wanted for myself.  I did not want people to be polite to me because I wanted to exercise control over them, but because it meant that they were respecting me, they were showing me the due deference that I was showing them.  If I was supposed to honor my bosses, doing what they wanted me to do and working as hard as I could to complete the orders given to me, then I wanted them to respect me as a person, not giving me orders just to make me work, but because the orders were sensible.  Honoring myself did not mean thinking more highly of myself than I ought to, but realizing that I had value, I am a son of the living God.

It is this same sense of honor that I have tried to teach to children who use insulting language and refuse to exercise self control.  The poor behavior of children like that shows that they do not honor their parents, because they do not care what people think of their children that they would act in such a way.  This poor behavior shows that these children do not honor others, as they use vulgarity and profanity that may insult or offend others nearby, and their behaviors generally cause a commotion, disturbing the peace of those around them as well.  This behavior also demonstrates that these children do not respect themselves.  They do not know how to behave so as to demonstrate that they think they are worth anything more than the value of entertainment they are providing at any given moment.

It is interesting to me that those who make themselves the center of attention could be the ones with the least amount of personal honor.  I do not mean simply that they may behave the worst, or commit crimes when no one is looking, but they also have no personal honor in that they do not think of themselves as having worth.  Children who scream profanities, who insult adults, and who display no self control not only insult those around them, but they illustrate that they insult themselves as well.  I realize this is not the case for all children, some of these children think the whole world revolves around them and they act the way they do because they think everyone ought to give them what they want because they are worth it (or deserve it).  But, in either case, whether these children honor themselves too much or have no honor at all, they still do not rightly honor themselves, their parents, or anyone else.

I bring all this up because I wanted to point out the importance of the Fifth Commandment.  I noted previously, as Scripture says, that this is the first command with a promise: "Honor your mother and your father that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you."  In honoring our parents we learn how to honor society and the authorities of society.  We learn how to honor God as we model our relationship with him on the relationship with have with our mother and father.  We also learn how to honor ourselves, holding ourselves as being worth more than just a cheap bit of money, more than just a bit of food or someone's entertainment.

Honoring our parents brings with it a promise, but also an implied curse.  If we honor our parents, then we will live long in the land, but if we do not, then we will not live long in the land.  That curse is still applicable today.  A man who grows up without honoring, having neither care for his parents, nor concern for others, is prone to make one of two equally disastrous errors.  Either this man will have no respect for himself and will sell out at every opportunity, always seeking to find something to give him meaning, or, he will think of himself as the only one who really matters and he will become selfish, greedy, and contemptible.

Many of us were like this.  We were those who had no honor, we did not give God the glory due him.  We claimed to honor our parents, but in reality we only cared for ourselves.  But, God has forgiven us, if we come to him through Christ, and now he has given us the honor of being called his sons.  How then can we continue in dishonor, when we have a Father who is worth all the honor in creation?

I learned what it means to honor by starting with fear.  Not everyone needs to start in this same way.  For children there is perhaps some value to having a right level of fear of their parents, understanding that their disapproval could lead to significant consequences.  But, for adults that does not need to be the case.  We can learn how to honor others just from the command of Christ: "For whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the law and the prophets." (Matthew 7:12)  Honoring others begins by doing what we ought, because it is right to do so to them, and because we love them as God has commanded us.

If we are wise we will learn to honor our mothers and our fathers.  We will learn to honor them because in so doing we will honor God.  In honoring God we will learn what it means to honor ourselves, what it is to see ourselves as more than merely animals, as though we were just some kind of evolved protozoa with a sense of morality.  We will realize that he who made us out of dirt also breathed his spirit into us, so that we are more than the sum of our physical parts, because of his spiritual blessings.  Let us honor our mothers and fathers in every aspect of our lives, when they are present and when they are not, because our Father, to whom we owe our very existence, is ever present with us, and is always worthy of our honor.

A Mother's Love

I wrote last time of my father, now I would like to write of my mother.  My father taught me how to read Scripture, he taught me the importance of understanding what has been given to us, and he taught me how to be a man of faith.  My mother taught me how to suffer.  My mother showed me that no matter what, God is still God, and his ways are good, even when I cannot understand them.  My mother shows me still what patience looks like, and what it means to love even when you cannot act.

My mother is a quadriplegic.  She has been paralyzed since I was four years old.  She is what I have been taught is considered and "incomplete quad."  That means that she is able to move her upper arms, basically she has control of her biceps.  But, that's where he muscular control ends, a line across her body basically at breast level.

What that means is that my mother is incapable of any deep coughing to dislodge material from her lungs or deeper in her throat.  She is limited in what she can hold because she cannot grasp with her hands.  She cannot hold her self up as well because she does not have control over her abdominal and back muscles that most people have.  But, she is, with special equipment, able to drive, able to maneuver her wheel chair around, and able to feed herself and do other similar functions.  What limitations my mother has do not prevent her from enjoying life, they just mean she has to do things a little differently from others.

I bring all this up just so you can understand why my mother has had such an impact on me.  You see, despite all that she has gone through, I have never seen my mother depressed.  I have never seen her angry with the lot life has given her.  My mother has embraced all that God has given her, and has counted his plans as better than her own.  God has used my mother to impact me and others whom she has come in contact with so that we should recognize that it is possible to glorify God in the hard times as well as the good.

My mother loves to tell stories.  Maybe that's where I get my love of stories from.  She has told my brothers and I multiple times of what she went through in the hospital.  She tells of how after the surgery where the doctors determined how bad the damage that was done to her spine by the car wreck was, the doctors were amazed by what movement she had.  She has told us of how she prayed after the wreck, placing her life in the hands of God and acknowledging his sovereignty over all things.  I do not recount her stories here because my writing could not rightly capture the manner of them.

I mention my mother's stories because they were always focused not on what was going on in her life, but with how she was trusting God to handle and to care for her needs.  In all of my mother's stories she is not the hero.  God is the hero, and that is his rightful place.  My mother's stories are the epitome of what a Christian's testimony ought to be: a story from or about our lives that reveals the goodness and beauty of God to those who listen.  My mother tells stories of faith, because the God of the Scriptures is not dead, but is living and active within her, and her faith in the expression of how God has impacted her life.

I do not remember much of my mother from before she was paralyzed.  I guess as a little child you just take things like seeing your mother walk for granted, so those memories do not stick in your mind.  Even from the time around the accident I do not have many memories.  I don't remember going to the hospital to visit her.  I don't remember first seeing her in a wheel chair or learning about the idea that my mother would never walk again.  I just grew up knowing those things.

I also grew up knowing that my mother trusted that God has a plan, and that he is fulfilling that plan in her and in all things.  This was the faith I was brought up under.  My mother still puts up with pain, she still has many limitations and is beginning to experience additional complications from being paralyzed for many years.  But, she also remains cheerful, knowing that her God is good, and will do great things on her behalf.  I pray that should I ever go through an event half so traumatic as hers that I would be blessed with that faith, because I have come to realize that it is a gift from God.  The Lord may take something away from us, a job, a career, our legs, even our families.  But, if we put our faith in him, he is all we need, and he will provide for us, so that he might receive the glory.

I closed last time with asking men to be fathers, so this time I ask women to be mothers like my own.  Share your faith with your children (cf. Acts 16:1 and 2 Timothy 3:15).  Take those children who do not have godly mothers under your wings and bring them into your lives that they may see the grace of God through you.  Suffer with grace, as all Christians should, that those who look to you might see that your hope is not in this world, but in the new heavens and new earth, when God will right every wrong, and wipe every tear from your eyes (Romans 8:18, 2 Corinthians 1:5, Philippians 1:29, 2 Thessalonians 1:5).  Live your faith, dear women, impress all with your godliness, and tell the wonderful story of the grace of God in your lives (1 Timothy 2:9-10).