If you’ve read this blog for any length of time, you know that my father was diagnosed with ALS in February of this year. I’ve mentioned it in a few blogs where it was relevant to the topic at hand. At no point did I ever want to extract sympathy unnecessarily.
That moment has finally come. My father passed from this life early in the morning of September 26, with his entire family surrounding him.
We had his funeral nearly a week later. I spoke, as did several other family members. We sang a lot of his favorite hymns, had his close friends lead prayers, and shared a lot of hugs and tears with people, many of whom had driven several hours to be there.
As I listened to people talk about my dad, it became painfully obvious that many had experiences with him that I wasn’t aware of. Funny stories, examples of his generosity, the impact he had made on others—all of those anecdotes came to light in either public or private ways.
My father was a great man—in many ways, greater than I ever knew.
But he and I are not the same. And even though I am one-hundred percent confident in where he is now, I also know that I can’t ride the coattails of his life to my own spot in Heaven. He’s where he is because of the choices he made in his life, just like I will be for the choices I make.
Deuteronomy 24:16 lays out one of the most foundational ideas in the entire Bible: The soul that sins will die. No man will be put to death on the account of what their son or father does; likewise, no one will be rewarded for what their son or father does. Everyone is responsible for their own lives.
This concept was most likely ignored throughout the generations, which is probably why Ezekiel 18:2 brings it up again. There was a proverb going around in Israel that said: “a father eats sour grapes, but the children’s teeth are set on edge.”
God addressed this proverb by shutting it down directly: “You are not going to use this proverb in Israel anymore” (Ezekiel 18:3). “The soul that sins,” God says, “will die.”
Yet still that idea persists. Catholics have the idea of original sin, where we inherit the direct consequences of Adam’s sin in the Garden. Calvinists have hereditary depravity, which says the same thing in a different way—that instead of us bearing the guilt, we have the inclination to sin.
But God is very clear. Regardless of nature, whoever sins will die. By the same token, whoever obeys God will live. It’s that simple…and that difficult.
My dad lived a great life, and I benefitted from that life in ways that I will probably discover for the rest of my life.
But one way in which I won’t is by piggybacking off of his life to secure my own soul. I can learn from him, take to heart the lessons he taught me, and remember his example, but when I stand before God, I’ll stand alone. I will give an account for my own life and what I did.
My choices will determine whether I will see my dad again or not.