Those Who Went Before

When a generation takes its place as adults, moving into positions of leadership and influence in the world, it often looks back on former generations with contempt. Finally, we'll change everything that our parents and grandparents screwed up and we'll finally have it right, they think. Ironically, this has been said by every generation to take its place in society. Its the unending cycle of originality and tradition; change and ritual; progressiveness and nostalgia. Almost as soon as a generation comes of age with its new values, ideas, and skills, it is quickly outdated by the next generation to come up.

Unfortunately, this cycle is a merciless one, where the values and achievements of older generations are vastly under appreciated by younger ones, and the younger generations are despised and dreaded by older ones. But perhaps there is a way for new generations to make changes without disrespecting the older ones. Perhaps not everything that older generations worked to create should be reversed.

I witnessed something this weekend that put a halt on my urge to discredit and devalue older generations. My father invited me to come and lead worship for a group of retired missionaries, all of whom served together in the Caribbean Islands. My parents were a part of that group, though quite a bit younger than the majority of the rest of them. They were a group of about a hundred senior citizens, many with failing health, back pains, arthritis and all kinds of other health issues that occur with age. At first I felt uncomfortable and out of place, as I assumed these people were stuck in their archaic ways and had no appreciation for anything I think or say.

But my opinion quickly changed as I listened to them sing. It wasn't a weak sound, but a powerful and cheerful chorus! It was good! They sang with more liveliness than any group of one hundred teenagers or college students I have ever heard. And they were singing songs that were unfamiliar to them, that came out of my generation. It moved me. It caused me to sing louder. The sound of their voices filled my heart with the awareness of just how much they loved one another and their Father in heaven. My heart continued to bear witness to their love as I listened to some of their stories.

In their conversations, and in speeches given by some at the front of the group, I heard stories of kingdom laboring, humility, service, community, and the joy or reaping a plentiful harvest. Each one of those men and women in the room had served God and man in a country that was not their own. They had poured their hearts out. And God had continued to fill them with joy and fruits of their labor. But now for many of them their time of service had ended, with respect to their careers. After those long years of hard work, it was time for them to step aside and pass it on to the next generations of kingdom laborers.

So I sat there and considered this. I didn't critique their methods or question their techniques or strategies or any of that. I was simply moved to thankfulness. I found in myself a deep appreciation for them. I respected how they answered God's call with obedience; to giving their lives for their neighbors in the Caribbean without looking back at the potential opportunities in America. These people were pioneers. Perhaps they did a few things in a way I would not duplicate, but all of a sudden those details seemed petty. In fact there are many things that I would model from them: courage, passion, humility, wisdom, perseverance.

Those missionaries inspired me and demand my admiration. They also demand a response from me. How am I going to continue their work? This question, I think, was the most important thing I was left with. The time of their generation is nearly over, but the time of my generation has just begun. Will we continue the kingdom work that they started? Or will our contempt for some differences between our values and customs and theirs drive us to abandon their cause? I feel compelled to take up the work they have passed on, putting aside insignificant differences and small disagreements. I feel a great sense of responsibility has been placed on me, and I intend to honor their service by offering my service.

This is a popular saying in my generation: "You can't just listen to your parents. You must find your own faith." I understand what my peers mean when they say that. But I think very few of them understand that we have been handed down a rich faith, which has withstood time and trial. What we hold dear is not our own, but given to us by people such as those Caribbean missionaries. We are simply the next chapter in the grand novel of our Creator and his creation. We come from a long line of honorable men and women. We possess the faith of prophets, of kings, of servants, of fishermen, of peacemakers, of martyrs. We have a magnificent history, which should compel us to create a bright future.

This is our faith--the faith of our fathers--the faith of those who went before.