The Faith of Our Fathers

     Last January I tried a case for a month in York County, South Carolina.  While less than 60 statute miles from Charlotte’s courthouse, York’s courthouse might as well be on another planet.  The courtroom walls are festooned by paintings of heroes of the confederacy, as well as local heroes—men whose names I had never before heard and cannot remember now.  Below the image of each local hero was a brief epitaph, each one ending with “. . .  and he died in the faith of his fathers.”  During the month I was in that courtroom I had plenty of time to study those words.  I wondered, what was the faith of their fathers and why was that so significant? 

     Today, our culture does not embrace the idea of following in the footsteps of one’s ancestors, perhaps because to do so would not be not sufficiently self-aware.  Today, our culture counsels following in one’s own footsteps, thinking for oneself and being true to oneself.  Today, our culture virtually instructs the rejection of the faith of our fathers simply because it is the faith of our fathers, and not a faith born of each individual’s lonely journey to the truth. 

     I am 47 years old.  I suppose for some men my age there was a conflict between their father’s faith and the faith journey on which they personally embarked.  Not for me.  If my father had a faith, he never demanded that I follow it or even suggested to me what it might be.  Like a compass without a spike, my pencil was free to draw circles around any point of truth I chose.  And, for a while, I chose a lot  of different points, drew a lot of arcs and semi-circles and used up a lot of lead. 

     I contend that there is a difference between teaching our sons about our faith (and demonstrating that faith by how we live) on the one hand and, on the other hand, dogmatically insisting that our sons follow our faith on pain of fatherly love withdrawn. Today, our culture does not seem to account for that distinction in its insistence that we allow our sons to discover everything for themselves.  As fathers, are we not called to lovingly show our sons the spike of our own compass, and gently guide them through their first halting attempts to draw their own circles?  This is hard to do well.  But I do not believe that the Lord would have us not do at all that which is difficult to do right.