Joining Our Fathers
I’ve been reading the first few books of the Bible, and a set of phrases stuck out to me like they never had before. These seem to be used mostly in the early parts of the Bible, but at some point seem to have dropped out of use later on in time. It comes in a few different forms, but they all are used to describe death: “to be gathered to your people” (Abraham in Genesis 25:8; Ishmael in Genesis 25:17; Isaac in Genesis 35:29; Jacob in 49:29, 33; Aaron in Numbers 20:24, 26; Moses in Numbers 27:13, 31:2, and Deuteronomy 32:50; Joshua’s generation in Judges 2:10; Josiah in 2 Kings 22:20), “to lie down with your fathers” (Jacob in Genesis 47:30; Moses in Deuteronomy 31:16; David in 2 Samuel 7:12), “to join the generation of your fathers” (Psalm 49:19).
Perhaps it is because I’ve recently become a father that such language jumps out at me. I’ve been noticing just how much fatherhood is replete through the Scriptures for a few years now, but in the last few months, this awareness has intensified. It is interesting to note that in these places in the Bible, death isn’t seen as the end of a person, but a gathering up or a joining with one’s ancestors. It’s like being promoted from the “children’s table” of life on earth to the “adult’s table” of what comes next.
One of the things you learn when you become a father, and you don’t really learn it because you knew all along, but it suddenly becomes real, visceral, and undeniable—it’s that you are not the center of the universe. A child is incredibly efficient at disabusing you of that false belief. Suddenly, your place in the world feels much smaller, because you realize you’re not all there is, not by a long shot. Another thing you begin to realize, again not that you didn’t realize it before, but it becomes suddenly profound, that you come from a long line of fathers—back through to time immemorial, all who lived and died, contributing a part of themselves into what eventually became you, and which you pass on to your children.
It’s with these thoughts that I have begun to think differently about what most people might say are the most boring parts of the Bible: the genealogies. You know the parts that go: “This man begat this man who begat this man who begat this man,” on and on. Strange names pass by as you try to not let your eyes glaze over. Generation by generation slips by in a few sentences, and hundreds, if not thousands, of years have suddenly vanished into the past with no more memorial than a name.
If we let the full impact of what reading a genealogical list like that could do to us, it makes one feel small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things- entire lives, years of experiences, decades of accomplishments, summed up in a name. All else forgotten to time. It is true what the Preacher says, that all is vanity, and a chasing after the wind. “A generation goes and a generation comes, But the earth remains forever.” (Ecclesiastes 1:4). These genealogical lists shout out a profound and terrible truth: You will not live forever, you will pass away, and all that will be left of you will be a name on a list… if you’re lucky.
When Moses came to the end of his life and was about to lie down with his fathers, he had to pass on the responsibility of taking the Israelites into the Promised Land to Joshua, the next generation. For all that Moses accomplished in his long life, there were still things left undone that he could not accomplish. This is also the way of the world. There is always more to do, and no matter how long and productive a life you live, you are still going to be leaving something undone for the next generation. And even if you somehow accomplished EVERYTHING in your lifetime, the next generation still has their own adventure, their own battles, their own accomplishments to face. There is no point in this life under the sun where one generation will complete it all and leave his progeny with everything accomplished and with nothing to do. We each have our missions in life, and we must also pass on the work to the next generation. We must because it is inevitable. Death comes for us all.
The Preacher said, “It is better to go to a house of mourning Than to go to a house of feasting, Because that is the end of every man, And the living takes it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter… [and] The mind of the wise is in the house of mourning.” (Ecclesiastes 7:2-4) It is a sobering feeling, to know we will one day pass from this earth, and so too even the memories of us will pass away. As I stated earlier, it makes one feel very small.
But not so small as to say you’re insignificant. We all come from unbroken lines of ancestors going back, whether we know their names or not. Whether we know who they are, they literally shaped us, gave us our DNA, set their children on a certain path, who then in turn set their children on a certain path, which eventually, somehow, led to us. And perhaps, one might get a big head, saying, “I am the culmination of this line of fathers. I am the apex.” This is delusional thinking. One, because while in the present moment you might be the culmination, but you won’t last forever. Even if you were the apex, you will only be the apex shortly. And two, everything, even your existence is dependent on your ancestors. How can something that is supposedly the apex be dependent on EVERYTHING else? No, you and I are not the apex. We are a link in the chain. Just as each of our ancestors was a link leading to us. We are links to generations into the future. What happens in the future, in part, is determined by how we live right now. What you do is going to reverberate down through history as long as it keeps going. What you do will not only have an impact on your physical descendants, but also on the other people in your life who will also pass things on to their descendants. Your actions have consequences that will go on and on until the end of time, even if you physically do not. That is a rather large responsibility.
So while the day is still called “Today” let us live well and pass down what is good and right to our children so that in their time they can do the same for their children. Let us properly view ourselves as a part of a grand story that started long before us, and is still being told throughout the generations. We are not the hero of this story, but we have a part. And when our part is over, we will be gathered to our fathers and join that story on the other side of eternity.
