2 Chronicles 10

The history of God in Old Testament Israel emphasizes how things can drastically change from one generation to the next. There just is no guarantee that when the older generation passes the torch, the younger generation will carry on with the same values, even if they are raised by God-loving and God-fearing parents.

We talked about that in Sunday School yesterday. Parents do their best. But their children choose for themselves what they will believe and how they will live their lives.

So what do we do? Is there an expiration date on parenting?

“My kid’s 18. I can relax now.”

If you’re a parent, you know that’s not true. If your parents are alive, you know that’s not true for them, either. You never stop being the parent.

But what about the Church? Does there come a time when we who are retired from our jobs and might not have the energy we once had, are free to just sit back and observe, put our feet up and let things fall as they may? I sure hope not.

And I don’t believe that’s what God intends, according to Scripture.

Rehoboam went to the old timers who had counseled his father Solomon for advice. They gave sound advice to the young king. But Rehoboam rejected it, and Israel suffered for it.

Two things about this:

1. Rehoboam went to them. Where do we want our young people going for advice? Do they know they can come to us? How do they know that? Maybe it’s up to us to connect with them in ways they’ll know they can trust us, and want to get our spin on things. Sure maybe they, like Rehoboam, won’t take the advice. But maybe they will.
2. The advisors told Rehoboam the truth. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But the advisors didn’t change the message just to please the king.

I don’t know about you, but I think if the next generation is that which is portrayed in the news, we are fighting a losing battle. But then I look around at the young people in my church, in the neighborhood where I live, in my own family, and I realize THEY are the next generation.

I’m not ready to throw up my hands and say there is no hope. I see hope in their eyes. The question I’m asking myself today is:

How can I help?