A Call To The Remnant

This was a real challenge to me most of my Christian life. I had no problem honoring my mother, but my father was a whole other story. I could give you twenty substantial reasons why I should not have honored my father. And the world would say “awww,” and agree with me. Yet is it striking that when we are told to honor our fathers and mothers in Scripture there are no parenthesis. We do not find the word “if,” there. It simply states that we must “Honor your father and your mother: that your days may be long upon the land which the LORD your God gives you.”

For most of my Christian life I did not honor my earthly father in my heart. Oftentimes not just in my heart. I challenged him and spoke ill of him from time to time, all the time failing to honor him. It was mostly to my wife or friends or family. I had many good excuses but none that stood against the Word of God. My challenge was to love what I considered to be the unlovable. Is this not exactly what the Lord Jesus has called us to do? If we cannot do it with those closest to us, how can we ever do it with those in the world? How should I react to being hated? Does it make a difference that it is someone your heart longs to be loved by? In the end it only matters what the Lord has instructed us to do. How can we honor our Heavenly Father while we dishonor Him by ignoring His instructions.

And so, over the years before he died I wrote my dad three letters. Each of them falling on the sword. Each of them at the insistence of the Holy Spirit. As I wrote each letter, the flesh raged against it. It screamed “he should be writing you a letter, he should be falling on the sword.” This was because my flesh was not dead in these matters, it roared loudly. And yet, in my spirit, I recognized the flesh for what it was. My flesh longed for justification. My flesh longed to see my father suffer as he had made us suffer. My spirit on the other hand knew that I must be obedient to the Lord and that love and forgiveness was the way. In the writing of the letters I was killing the flesh and my heart was turning towards my father. After I wrote these letters I hated putting them in the envelope. Putting the stamps on them. And worse of all, putting them into the letterbox. Once it dropped down into the box there was no turning back.

I never expected any replies or even acknowledgment’s and none ever came. Yet I felt good in having done the right thing and just left it alone. “I had done my part.” One time as I was speaking to a dear brother he told me of an incident. There was a brother whom had fallen out with him a few years before. The Holy Spirit led him to go and knock on his door and make it right. It was at least a 20 minute drive away but off he went. He knocked on the door, sensing the brother was in, but got no reply. So, he got back in the car and began to drive home. He felt good that he had done the right thing. About half way back the Holy Spirit spoke to him just a few words.”You did not try very hard.” He was very convicted, turned the car around and went back to the door and kept knocking on it until finally the fella answered. He let him in and they “mended the fence.”

Upon hearing that story I was deeply convicted. I too had done the right thing and now the Holy Spirit was saying to me “you did not try very hard.” It was not spoken with any kind of animosity, but in that pure loving way that convicts you to the very depths of your heart. I knew what I had to do. I had to go home to Scotland for a visit and put flesh upon the letter which I had sent. Covid was raging at the time but I overcame all the obstacles and got home. I was able to treat my dad with kindness and pamper him a little, all of which he had a hard time with. Little did I know that when I left that visit two years ago, I would never see him again. It left me wondering about the depths of my flesh and why it had taken so long. How different it could have all been if I had just followed the Lord’s instruction and honored my father.

The Lord has since showed me just how much he loved my dad. Yes, he knew, of course, all of his faults but while he was yet in his sin he loved my dad and He died for him. He loved him all the more when my dad, at the age of 49, came to Him on bended knee. He loved him despite all of his problems of dying to his own flesh. He knew my dad better than anyone on the earth, faults and all, my dads own very rough upbringing, He knew him completely and He loved him still. Even when my dad was not faithful the Lord was faithful to him. And then the Lord showed me. I love you in the same way. I love all of my children in the same way despite their seeming lack of progress. Listen young men especially. If your dad is a Christian and you judge him harshly, if you fail to honor him, it is you who will pay a price. As much as lies within you, honor your father and your mother. Death to the flesh and life to the spirit. One is soaked in mercy, the other is eaten up by judgement. Starve the flesh.