HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
All Scripture quotations are taken from the New American Standard Bible®, © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. (www.Lockman.org)
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Back cover author photo by Krystal Mann
Published in association with Patti M. Hummel, President/Agent, Benchmark Group LLC, Nashville, TN. benchmarkgroup1@aol.com.
WHAT EVERY MAN WISHES HIS FATHER HAD TOLD HIM
Copyright © 2012 by Byron Forrest Yawn
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Yawn, Byron Forrest.
What every man wishes his father had told him / Byron Forrest Yawn.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-7369-4638-4 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-7369-4640-7 (eBook)
1. Christian men—Religious life. I. Title.
BV4528.2.Y39 2012
248.8'42—dc23
2011021194
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America
12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 / BP-SK / 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To my sons Wade, Zachary, and Blake
and
my beloved father, Dr. Victor Wade Yawn II
Post Tenebrus Lux
Foreword by John MacArthur
In Pursuit of Biblical Manhood
1. The Space Where a Dad Should Be
2. Grace: Never Move Beyond the Gospel
3. Masculinity: Manhood Is Knowing Where the Plunger Is
4. Affection: “I Love You, Son”
5. Ambition: Never Choose Not to Succeed
R.E. Lee’s Letter to His Son
6. Sincerity: It’s the Why that Matters Most
7. Accountability: You Are Not Your Own Best Counselor
8. Confidence: Be Comfortable in Your Own Skin
Don’t Be “That Guy”
9. Marriage: It Comes with a Basin and an Apron
10. Wives: Don’t Live in Fear of Your Wife; Lead Her
11. Sin: Die to Self Upside Down
Man Laws
12. Sex: It Is Not Evil
13. Pornography: Hugh Hefner Will Die Alone
14. Eternity: Live Urgently
15. Consistency: Learn to Plod
Abraham Lincoln’s Letter to His Son’s Teacher
16. Thinking: If You Lower the Standards, You Can Reach Them Every Time
17. Work: It’s a Means and Not an End
Class Offered at Boyce College—“Band of Brothers”
18. Integrity: Be the Man They Think You Are
19. Afterword
Notes
Contact the Author
Other Good Harvest House Reading
About the Author
n ancient biblical cultures it was understood that every father had a solemn duty to help usher his sons into manhood. He fulfilled that role by teaching them wisdom, instructing them in the facts of life, preparing them for the disciplines of adulthood, and indoctrinating them in the way of truth and righteousness. That kind of fatherly training is exemplified in the Old Testament book of Proverbs—paternal and spiritual wisdom preserved for us in pithy, memorable statements that are easy to digest, powerfully practical, and profoundly wise.
Children in those days entered adulthood and were expected to assume grown-up responsibilities at a much younger age than contemporary Western cultures have grown accustomed to. There was no concept of “adolescence”—that troublesome phase of drawn-out immaturity and rebellion today’s young people are expected to splash around in for several years following puberty. In biblical times, adulthood came early. That pattern is reflected in the Jewish celebration of Bar Mitzvah at age 13, when boys become “sons of commandment” and are formally recognized as having come of age. The same approach is also seen in the maturing of Christ into manhood. The only record of Jesus’ teenage years is a single verse, telling us that He “kept increasing in wisdom and in stature, and in favor with God and man” (Luke 2:52). He personified steady growth into manhood; He was not hindered or diverted from that goal by any of the typical distractions of youth.
In stark contrast to the biblical pattern, young men in our culture today begin to manifest adolescent characteristics (such as rebellion, depression, and chronic cynicism) earlier than ever—and they remain immature longer than ever. Some, it seems, never do become true men. In fact, many become fathers without ever really becoming adults.
No wonder. Permanent adolescence is relentlessly romanticized and shamelessly encouraged in practically all popular entertainment and advertising. Manhood itself is often strongly discouraged, while society’s fundamental values are systematically being feminized. Trends such as those have given rise to an epidemic of fatherless homes and irresponsible thirty-something males. Countless young men are addicted to entertainment, living in a culture already shaped to a very large degree by movies, video games, and fantasy role-playing. It is frankly no surprise that real men are in such scarce supply. Never has there been a more urgent need for wise and diligent fathers.
Many people have noticed these cultural shifts, of course, including some Christian leaders. Evangelical attempts to address the decline of manhood have gone to two extremes—one side encouraging the church to embrace feminist values; the other side promoting a radically cartoonish caricature of manhood. (One wildly popular approach encourages Christian men to treat fantasy characters as role models.) The fact that evangelical leaders and best-selling authors would put such unbiblical suggestions on the table is of course part of the problem.
Byron Yawn has a much better suggestion. It starts with listening to what the Bible says about manhood—letting Scripture shape our value system, our view of masculinity, and our lifestyles as true men and true disciples of Christ. Specifically, Pastor Yawn points out that the quintessential model of perfect manhood is not a fictional character from a gladiator movie; not a soft, epicene trendoid with exaggerated postmodern sensitivities; and not a bullying tyrant who mistakes intimidation for authority. The archetype and epitome of everything a mature man should be is Jesus Christ.
That’s precisely what Ephesians 4:13 says: The measure of “a mature man” is “the stature which belongs to the fullness of Christ.” That’s also the theme and central lesson of this book.
Pastor Yawn has done a considerable amount of careful thinking about manhood as it is portrayed in Scripture. He writes poignantly, straightforwardly, compellingly about what it means to be a man, about how fathers can train their sons to be true men, and about how sons can honor their fathers in a manly fashion. This is a refreshing, challenging, engaging, and (best of all) biblical study of a subject that has too often been overlooked, handled badly, or looked at through the lens of cultural rather than biblical values. Byron Yawn makes none of those mistakes. The result is a book that will be treasured by fathers and sons alike.
Dad, you and I are just alike, except for the nose hairs.
{BLAKE ALEXANDER YAWN}
He said, “Take now your son, your only son, whom you love, Isaac,
and go to the land of Moriah; and offer him there as a burnt offering on
one of the mountains of which I will tell you.”
So Abraham rose early in the morning and saddled his donkey…
{GENESIS 22:2-3}
his book strikes out in three simultaneous directions. First, it heads backward to a place just before the dawn of time in a young boy’s life. A point of innocence and nostalgia complete with action figures (not figurines), baseball mitts, and plastic guns. The very moment when someone—otherwise known as dad—should have stepped in and started preparing that young man for the mind-bending realities dead ahead. For many, if not most of us, this was a season of missed opportunity. What we struggled to figure out at twenty-eight could have been generally explained at eight. It would have taken only a few minutes of time to condescend to a boy’s level and show him the way. At least we could have seen it coming when it ran us over.
Second, it rises up above our present circumstance and allows us to survey our person from a slightly higher elevation. From the high ground of the cross the lines of our current struggles can be traced back to their beginning. The root of recurring aches common to every man and uniquely situated in each life can be seen from a better vantage point. As we look down on our own life we may finally catch a glimpse of what’s been causing all the trouble. We can see freedom from here.
Third, it reaches forward. It reaches out a hand to those nostalgic creatures running all around us. Those boys enjoying the leisure of their childhood who can’t imagine the mountain of experiences ahead of them. Those adolescent males caught in the drift of changes no one could ever anticipate. It’s a hand of hope reaching down to the next generation of men. There is an opportunity to do for them what was never done for us. To introduce them to a freedom in Christ that is able to blaze a trail out of all the confusion. “Dear son, there is a way to live, and you can live it.”
To the adult son who looks back and regrets, there is hope. To the confused husband who looks down on his life with despair, there is a means to victory. To the father who looks ahead to the future of his own children, there is a way. In every case it is the Lord Jesus Christ.
These essays are glimpses into the real-time struggles of any ordinary man’s heart. They depict some of the rough terrain that leads up to biblical masculinity. In many instances I had to look no farther than my own life—mostly failure—for inspiration. Then there were the many noble lives of men near me who have lived so well. In the end I have only tried to say what most men are thinking.
The intent is to force a man to the foot of the cross and back again upon his own soul in light of it. I deliberately push away from any variation on the ever-present twelve-step approach to life-change and manhood. There are specific reasons I avoid this genre. First, life is not that easy. Change is not convenient. The narcissistic bent of our culture naïvely assumes a book can solve our issues. We are a trend-ready church. Change is a matter of grace, not cleverness. I offer ideas. You apply them.
Second, men naturally want steps. They like to tinker. They like steps simply because they’re easy. Real repentance and deep introspection is much more painful. The church has already suffered enough from decades of over-principlization. We have an endless offering of packaged approaches with little or no results to show for it. The recent history of evangelicalism can be charted by the numerous “pretty books” that line men’s shelves. Eventually, they are released as leather-bound journals and then it’s off to the graveyard of all Christian crazes—garage sales. Men need to think, not grasp at straws.
Coming to terms with biblical manhood is challenging. The Bible offers no concise definition. It assumes it. I suppose this is because it’s obvious. Only a fallen humanity could confuse it so drastically. The church has tried to provide clarity, but the definitions are all over the page. Some are Pollyanna. They have no connection to the travails of modern culture. It’s impossible to live up to the polyester standards. Others miss the mark by miles, either directly or indirectly neutering men in the church. They rob biblical spirituality of any sense of masculinity. Men can’t be real men in the church. No real man wants to go this direction. Still others have gone too far in their reaction to the androgynous spirituality affecting the church. They have confused John Rambo with Jesus Christ. A real man will see the childishness of such depictions. All of this has barely been helpful in the recovery of a clear understanding.
I’ve read many books and articles on manhood in preparation for this offering. One observation in my research has astounded me. In the vast majority of cases, Jesus Christ is barely mentioned and often never directly put forward as the example of biblical manhood. The chapters are few that extol the Savior as the prime meridian of masculinity. We turn to heroic biblical figures and icons of cinematic history, but not to Christ. Yet Christ is the place to which all biblical figures point and the one man who makes Hollywood depictions of strength look foolish. There is no understanding of manhood without first understanding Christ.
The only thing more astounding than this silence on Christ in Christian literature on manhood is my own failure in turning to Him. Jesus is obvious. He is not assumed by the Bible. He is what every Christian man should desire to be. He is our Lord. We can look to Him and see manhood in its purest form. We need Him.
Some have given up trying to be men and have settled into the haziness of boyhood instead. Emotionally, they are still somewhere in their mom’s basement. They lurk in the weeds of mediocrity afraid of growing up. Wives are more like nannies. Others, frustrated by the disappointment of their lives, have shut down. They survive behind hearts of stone. Mean and surly. They’ve never known the joy of being a servant leader. They can’t see the point in enjoying the souls around them. Wives are more like enemies. My heart is big toward both.
Then there are those who are tired of mailing it in. They are looking for that hand to lift them out of the weeds and quarries. These men excite my soul. They give me great hope for families and churches. When I think of them, words come easy. Too many have made a mockery of manhood. No doubt there’s a lot of failure. But has anyone ever offered a biblical and realistic solution? This book, meager as it is, is my attempt at helping.
There is a lot of straight talk in these pages. It’s necessary if we’re going to confront the little boy hiding in all of us. It’s how I talk. It’s no different from how my friends and I confront each other in real time. The elders, staff, and men I serve with at Community Bible Church cut each other no slack and are large on grace. I find it refreshing. Most men do when they encounter it.
There’ve been enough passes handed out already. We tiptoe around each other’s insecurities like we’re managing a minefield. That’s not friendship. That’s codependency. So I try to step on everyone I can along the way. If your feelings are hurt, they probably needed to be.
If you think I’m wrong, there’s probably some truth to your observation. I remind you the title is What Every Man Wishes His Father Had Told Him and not Everything Every Man Should Have Ever Been Told.
If you appreciate something I write, I remind you as well that even a blind hog can root out an acorn from time to time. In the end, if I’m going to be transparent and put myself out there, I’m taking you down with me. Soul searching is not easy, but it is the path to freedom.
You will not agree with everything I say. This is especially true as you compare my observations to those of pop psychology, which have now become axiomatic in our experiences. I’m no big fan of the clichés we confidently toss around assuming they solve all our issues with cleverness. But I would challenge you to examine all these urban legends afresh. Is what we have assumed about our severest struggles and deepest needs as men accurate? Or have these answers been fashioned to let us off the hook? Should we drag our sinful hearts up to the cross of Christ would the assessment be different? Would it use different words to describe us? Sin instead of addiction. Corruption instead of disadvantage.
I believe the gospel clarifies and applies to all of life with ongoing and ever-increasing relevance. It applies to the specifics. This includes manhood. The gospel is not just a starting point. It is the length and breadth of the Christian life as well. Not to give away the ending, but this book basically presses various issues about manhood and masculinity through the filter of the gospel. This is the gospel and manhood. Genius, right? Not even.
There is a revival of gospel clarity taking place in the church at this very moment in time. I’ve merely capitalized on others’ clarity. We’ve come back around to the cross. The cross is glorious. It’s rather embarrassing to realize how far from it we’ve wandered over the years. The gospel always seems to hide from the church in the wide open. We miss it. We look past it. It’s always there beckoning us back from our moralism and pragmatism. As I say herein, it is usually the last place we turn. It should be the first. Masculinity can never make sense without it.
For years I mocked that bumper sticker that reads “Real Men Love Jesus.” At the time I considered it an oversimplification at best and evidence of our slogan-driven spirituality at worst. I once saw it posted on a billboard as I drove down a highway with my family. It was strategically situated over a gentlemen’s club. It seemed a foolish gesture. Are we to believe that Jesus can save us from the brazen immorality in our culture? Yes. We must believe it or there is nothing to believe. The more I’ve peered at manhood through the cross, the more I’ve come to admit the truth of this simple statement. If men would love Jesus they would be real men. If men would love Jesus they would find a power over the most notorious sins. Real men do love Jesus. Real men would have the courage to take a bullet for the gospel. Real men always have.
I had an English professor in college confront me with one of the most vivid definitions of courage I’ve ever encountered. As the story goes, there’s a man who sees a child playing on some train tracks at the very moment a train is about to overtake it. The man jumps in front of the train at the last minute and saves the child. He is instantly heralded a hero by those who witness his act. His face appears in the local paper and he is lauded far and wide for his courage. But is that really courage? Would not most anyone make that move in that instant?
Imagine the same man. This time he is approached by a stranger who informs him that in exactly one week at a specific time a child will be playing on the same set of tracks. The child will be unaware of the impending danger of the oncoming train. If this man so chooses, he may throw himself in front of that train a mere second before it overtakes the innocent child. But there is no guarantee of survival.
Then that same man walks away and has an entire week to ponder the possible terrifying consequences of doing the right thing. The loss of his life. The loss of the child’s life. A widowed wife. Orphaned children. Or maybe unthinkable injuries. Maybe paralysis. The excruciating pain of tons of steel and heat dashing his body.
After a week passes he stands before those same tracks, having had all that time to contemplate the cost of doing the right thing, and jumps. In that instant, he weighed fully the cost of serving someone—ultimate self-sacrifice. That is courage. Courage does not head toward preferable outcomes. Courage acts even in the face of consequences simply because it is the right thing to do.
Biblical manhood requires such courage. I don’t intend to be overly dramatic here. It’s not as if we’re carrying around the nuclear codes or cutting wires on atomic bombs. We’re merely leading wives, raising children, and serving the gospel of Christ. You know, simple stuff. But the devil hates simple stuff. Especially men who are good at it. This is exactly why it takes courage. The world and the devil attack unimpeachable godliness from every angle. Humble godly men are the devil’s worst enemy.
It takes nerve to be a man who loves Jesus in this God-hating culture. There are real consequences for acting at the right moment. It calls us to a hundred daily deaths. There are innumerable moments we throw ourselves in front of pain for others. It’s a daily death to self. Manhood is not what we’ve been led to believe. Men are self-sacrificing lovers of a living God. Dear God, bring us leaders.
The practical ministry of the church rests on the lives of courageous godly men. Men who take the truth seriously, but themselves not too seriously. What the church needs are warriors of the gospel of Christ, not boys trapped in men’s bodies. Gospel ministry on the local church level begins with men. No pastor is truly leading if he is not raising them up.
That parable of courage and the train finds its antitype in Jesus Christ. The Bible makes it abundantly clear that Jesus knew full well the consequences of obedience to the Father. Yet with an eternity to ponder infinite suffering He offered Himself as a sacrifice for my sin. Essentially throwing Himself in front of the Father’s wrath for a sinner like me. In this moment, masculinity finds its fullest definition.
He is the one and only son offered who spared Abraham’s promised son. As He is my Savior, I pray He is the son offered for both of mine.
Byron Forrest Yawn |
Then Joseph fell on his father’s face,
and wept over him and kissed him.
{GENESIS 50:1}
hat kind of relationship did you have with your father?” And a thousand little memories flood the mind of a son. Immediately a forty-one-year-old husband and father of three is eight again. Few questions have the force to stop grown men in their tracks as does this one. The feelings run deep here. I mean really deep. I asked it of a rather spry waiter once to prove its power to a friend. The waiter was so struck by the apparent insight into his life he was inclined to lie down in the booth opposite me and assume the fetal position. Ask someone yourself. You’ll see what I mean. It evokes either warm reminiscent smiles or deeply resentful gazes. It opens a window into a soul. Fathers are important. I mean really important.
Maybe the best answer thus far has been “Good, but not much.” Which means, of course, Dad was a good man but not readily available. In the vast majority of cases, however, the answer is not even this favorable. Rare is the smile. Disappointment reigns. Some dads were “merely” negligent. Some were too busy. Some were passive. Some were mute. Some were angry. Some were physically abusive. Some were decent. Some were shells. Some vanished. In nearly every case—even in the worst-case scenarios—the answers are tilted toward gracious and affable. They’re more like excuses than answers. Sons have an instinct to cover their fathers’ failures. Sons love their dads even when their dads did not love them. It’s part of being a son. It’s also a sign of how sons are doomed to mimic their fathers’ primary failure—denial.
If you’re in the minority that considers your dad’s impact as generally favorable, I’d have you ask a deeper question. Was your dad simply around, or was he actually engaged in your life? There’s a big difference. One is a figure. The other is a mentor. How many life lessons did your dad actually offer you? How many principles did he offer when you were eight that you remembered when you were twenty-eight? How many of us had dads who were observant enough to step in and guide our hearts, or facilitate our calling in life? Maybe your dad taught you how to manage money, or instilled a work ethic. But did he teach you how proper money management and a work ethic are tied to much bigger realities? Did he expose you to the deeper joys of such virtues?
Many men will insist their dad’s inattention has had no great effect on them. Trust me—they’re lying. Boys need fathers like trees need trunks. I’ve seen strong and sturdy sixty-year-old men weep in sight of the empty space where a dad should have been or at the indelible marks left by tyrants who posed as fathers. So much in a man’s life can be traced back to the father—good and bad.
A prime example is the epidemic struggle with sexual sin among Christian men. Oftentimes, when helping men deal with this sin, I will ask, “Did you receive any instruction on sex in your adolescence?” In almost every case the answer is no. Your dad may have offered a single awkward lecture on anatomy, but that’s barely even helpful. Mainly we (the church) give the impression that sexuality and the natural desires of young men (or women) are something to be ashamed of. Is it any wonder it’s such a pervasive problem? When MTV is teaching our sons everything they know about sex and how to value women, they’re doomed.
At the exact moment a young man faces the most substantial physical, emotional, hormonal, and social changes of his life, he’s left to figure it out for himself. We stay on them about cleaning their rooms, but don’t say a word to them about sex. They go to bed dreaming of Legos in their childhoods and wake up Sasquatch. No one warns them of what’s coming. No one does them the incredible favor of assuring them that this bizarre physical transformation is normal. They grow up thinking they’re crazy.
In the absence of a guide it’s impossible to maneuver this space and live to tell about it. An unsupervised adolescent boy doesn’t have a prayer in this culture. You might as well drop him off at the porn shop on his thirteenth birthday. Seriously. Point is, in most cases this struggle (and many others) in men can be traced back to the empty space a father was designed to fill. Is it any wonder adult sons are so resentful of their fathers?
At the same time, there are way too many “men” blaming their personal issues on their fathers’ failures. You can justify almost anything by lifting up your psyche and showing people your “daddy wound.” I know of men who’ve abandoned their wives and families and offer their “wounded spirits” as justification. At present, blaming our hang-ups on our “father wounds” is the default position. It’s trendy to have one. Like psychological tattoos. They all read, “Dad hurt my feelings.” The expression “father wound” is now in the realm of Christian clichés. Which means…it’s virtually meaningless.
Nonetheless, deep behind the lines of “suburbianity” this psychosomatic phenomenon is assumed to be true. Men eat it up. You mention the concept to fresh ears and to them, it magically explains the origin of every flaw they’ve ever had. Some of the most popular books on men are perched on this singular conviction. It’s always a pleasant little journey from assumption to foregone conclusion.
Just consider the number of men’s Bible studies and accountability groups dedicated to this concept. Men sit around and discuss it for weeks on end, sounding more like girls than men. There’s no way this is healthy. What good does it do to incessantly identify a chronic ache without taking action to correct it? It does no good. It makes us more self-absorbed than we already are. Trust me—the men in your small group may be nodding in affirmation on the outside, but they’re rolling the eyes of their heart on the inside. They’re tired of hearing about your dad’s lack of affection.
I get it. I’m not suggesting there’s no truth to the concept of emotional wounds. Some of us had messed-up childhoods. I have friends with painful stories. In some instances their personal suffering was so intense it’s hard to relate. Comparatively, my dad never beat me with a half-inch thick branch or made me sleep under my bed so as not to hear me sob. Some dads are pure evil. Generally, all of our dads made mistakes and had moments (or decades) of angry excesses. No man is perfect, and others are as far from it as possible.
Honestly though, so what? Get in line. Who hasn’t been hurt or sinned against—even by people we’re hard-wired to trust? Should we ask our wives about the innumerable “stupid wounds” they’ve received at our hands? Or should we talk to our kids? Or do we want to compare wounds with the Savior of sinners? This planet is littered with fallen narcissistic scavengers (including you and me) who’ll do almost anything to get what they want. Besides, if we were as angry at our sin as we are with our dad, we might actually get past some stuff. By the third (or ten thousandth) sad retelling of our disadvantaged youth, what good has it done anyway?
There’s a fine line between blame and acceptance. The balance between focusing on the injustices in our life and taking personal responsibility for our lives is difficult. Many men are imprisoned by memories, or the lack thereof. They can’t make it past the inequity of their experiences. The solution here is mainly theological and not therapeutic. It’s a matter of focus. My point is, it’s not about becoming intimate with your hang-ups. It’s about becoming intimate with your Creator. Will you spend your days examining self, or something greater than yourself? Other men with equally painful memories have found freedom in the cross. They have a different type of internal struggle. They can’t get over the “inequity” of Christ’s death.
What’s most notable about this last category of people is their normalcy. They’re stable, grateful, and productive people who love Christ. They seem never to draw attention to the scars etched in their lives, but are simultaneously better people because of them.
Those who adhere too tightly to the father wound philosophy tend to approach life as victims. Victims of their circumstances. In some cases childhood memories serve as the basic justification for their own misbehavior and delinquency. “Someone hurt me; therefore, you must cut me slack as I destroy everything in my path.” Life is spent examining their wounds ad nauseam. Daddy wounds are like rocks in their shoes.
This outlook on life is why some men never grow up. It’s an excuse for immobility and failure. They have trendy haircuts at fifty, frustrated wives, wear skinny jeans (strangely resembling elves), discontented jobs, massive debt, still shop at the Gap, try way too hard to be hip, and every single conversation you have with them is about them and why they are still living in their mother’s basement emotionally. It’s hopeless.
The other perspective has God and the cross in view. It takes in the same pain from a completely different angle. The cross looms over and brings clarity to the trauma that creeps into every life. It alone explains the real reason people do the horrible things they do—they’re sinners. This perspective requires humility because it acknowledges the mystery of sin. Who can explain why sin causes people to do the things they do? No one. Sin is intentional and irrational at the same time. People do these things because it’s in their natures to do them as sinners. But, rather than ending in fatalism, this awareness frees us. It keeps us from fixating our attention on the why of our circumstances. This world is sinful, that’s why people do the things they do.
The cross promises all the abused and abandoned that there will be justice. No one gets away. But, the cross goes farther. It doesn’t let the “victims” off the hook either. We’ve all sinned against people. Everyone has made a victim of someone. The cross is essentially screaming this at humanity. We’re all bad people. God did not die to save us from our daddy wounds. He died to save us from ourselves and the consequences of who we are. He died because rescuing sinful humanity from the wrath of God required a brutal death. We’re brutal people. This fact brings our self-fulfilling unending therapy session to an abrupt close. Before God we’re no better than our abusive, negligent, or “good, but not much” fathers.
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