Family

When she came down the stairs for breakfast, I told her she’d kept me up all night. Claire quizzically looked at me. Our 18 year old daughter hadn’t done anything wrong. The home was at peace the night before; it was quiet through the night.

I had risen around 2 a.m. to go to the bathroom (too much information?). But something happened when I walked by her door back to our room; my brain turned my heart on. You see, Claire will be heading for college in about four months. And when she does, it won’t be to a school on the other side of town or to one across the mountains. It will be to a campus 1,500 miles away—I know because MapQuest already told me when I pecked in the address. Cell phones and texting and Skype will help but it won’t do. The smile, the hug, the joke, the talk, the daily “stuff” of family life is about to change. The cheery pink bedroom at the top of the stairs with the radio that’s always on is about to go dark—it’s about to go silent.

I know this is the way things are supposed to be. Children grow up, they become young men and young women. This is the way He made the family and this is the way of His world. But the thought of it still makes my heart sink.

Thirty-two years ago, my parents and I made the trek from Eastern Washington to Tacoma. It was a nice trip, as I remember. We took our time. We had lunch at Ivar’s in downtown Seattle. Then we finished our journey, ending up at Pacific Lutheran University. We checked into the dorm, hauled my bags up the stairs to the room marked “211” on the door. As I recall, my mom asked if she could make my bed. Then it was time for my parents to leave. There was some emotion, there was some hugs, there was some “I love yous” and then the Chevy Suburban pulled out of the lot. I would come to find out later my mom cried all the way home. I may not have understood then, but I understand now.

We are excited for Claire. She is so happy. The Christian school she’ll be attending seems to be a good place. Her world is about to get bigger and her faith is about to be put to the test. We believe she is ready.

It’s just that I’m not sure I am. I like hearing her call me “daddy.” I like taking her to school and later hearing about the “drama” that sometimes is apart of her day. I like her friends. I even like proofing her papers sometimes. I especially like her smile from the pew when I am preaching. But that’s all about to end. It is supposed to, it has to—yet I don’t want it to.

I’m going to ask my mom when she stopped crying.

Pastor Rich Hamlin

April 19, 2012

I know why you speak of rights, fairness, and equality whenever you make your case for same-sex marriage. Just 20 years ago, your side was losing the debate. Then, like a struggling business or a losing sport’s team, you repackaged yourselves. Rather then portraying homosexuality as a deviant and promiscuous sexual minority, you began presenting yourselves as mainstream citizens in search of equal treatment. The outlandish “gay parades” were spectacle (still are), but they weren’t creating sympathy or generating votes—after all, cocky men in leather and drag queens aren’t very appealing.

You then changed the words, too. It was no longer an issue of “preference”—that implies a person making a choice to be gay. Now its labeled “orientation”—a word that communicates gays are born not made; that it is simply genetically who they are. The plan worked. The movement ceased being about sordid sexuality, it became one of rights—civil rights, actually. Just as women were denied the right to vote and blacks were deemed second-class in the previous century; the face of the movement became “normal” men and women who were treated unfairly and simply wanted the same rights as everyone else. And it’s hard to argue against someone’s civil rights—this is America. It is why same-sex proponents now enjoy the momentum.

I’ve also noticed you have sugared your position by saying you will provide “opt-outs” for churches; not forcing pastors to perform same-sex unions. But isn’t it against the law to arbitrarily opt-out of civil rights legislation? Regardless of one’s opinion, real civil rights are the law of the land. Skinheads have their opinion, but if they discriminate, they are breaking the law—period. You either don’t see the inconsistency in your “opt-out” logic or you do. I suspect you do. Just as denouncing homosexuality from the pulpit may soon be construed as “hate-speech”; you know the courts will eventually erase the “opt-outs” for Bible-believing pastors. You’re an attorney; maybe you even have a copy of your movement’s “play-book”—the one that lists the step-by-step strategies your side has employed to get to this point. I’m sure there are more chapters in it, too.

Some politicians say this is personally such a hard issue for them to decide—something about seeing the arguments of both sides. When argued as a civil right, it is difficult to oppose same-sex marriage. But it’s not about rights. It’s ultimately about the right of God to define His institution. Which He has done clearly: marriage is between one man and one woman. It is why same-sex marriage has nothing in common with women’s suffrage or blacks sitting in the back of the bus. It’s all about whether we believe God gets to decide the matter or politicians do.

Pastor Rich Hamlin

January 12, 2012

Our governor has “flipped,” as they say in politics. I don’t think so, though. She’s a lame-duck so she’s probably just doing what she has wanted to do since she was first elected back in 2004. But what she says is that she’s taken a “personal journey” concerning the matter. I’d like a follow-up, “From where to where, governor?” Here are her words from her press conference on January 4, 2012: “This was all about my personal faith,” said Governor Chris Gregoire, a professing Roman Catholic, “I came to understand my religion is one thing, but as governor of the state and as a human being, I believe in equality. And I don’t respect a state who discriminates.” It was difficult to type her quote; it’s such a ridiculous one, so full of illogic.

But let’s back up. We are talking about Olympia’s push to make Washington the seventh state in the union to grant marriage licenses to same-sex couples. And Gregoire is excited to be the proposed legislation’s torch-bearer.

In 2004, she supported legal rights for same-sex couples. In 2007, she signed a domestic partnership law toward that end. In 2009, she supported the passage of Referendum 71, the so-called “everything but marriage” law; the law where same-sex couples were granted all rights enjoyed by married couples except the one they coveted most—the ability to marry. And it’s this last one they so desperately want because their deviancy will then possess the language of normalcy.

But back to our governor’s carefully crafted quote from above. Parsing through it, here is what I find behind her words: “My faith really isn’t that important to me; certainly not enough for it to impact the way I govern. I know the Bible defines marriage as the union between a man and a woman. I also know it calls homosexuality a sin. But that’s so judgmental and not fair. And I don’t want to be associated with a state that listens to God concerning such things.”

That was some “personal journey”! She discarded whatever semblance of faith she had, declaring God’s way archaic and discriminatory; and happy to have arrived upon the shores of progress, acceptance, and enlightenment.

But if I may; could someone let her know her office is subordinate to the Throne of God? She needs to take another “personal journey”; this time, one that arrives upon the shores of God’s never-ending truth.

Pastor Rich Hamlin

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet…” I was in the minority but I enjoyed reading Shakespeare my sophomore year in high school. I enjoyed the clever language and innuendo; I enjoyed deciphering the not-so-obvious. The line above is from “Romeo and Juliet”; enchanted lovers whose last names made them enemies. Romeo was a Montague; Juliet was a Capulet—their two families had been feuding for years. Juliet was convincing herself, however, that what matters is what something is, not what something is called. Romeo just had the wrong last name: “What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name!”

Names may not matter but words do. They have meaning. Here is the meaning for the word marriage: “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh” (Genesis 2:24). Only two chapters into creation and God created and defined marriage. Marriage, therefore, is the union between one man and one woman in a lifelong covenant as husband and wife.

“Gay marriage” therefore is an oxymoron—there is no such thing. It’s impossible for two men to get married; it’s impossible for two women to get married. They can’t because for it to be such; marriage has to be between a man and a woman.

Pastor and author John Piper blogged not long ago: “I don’t think we should use the term ‘gay marriage’ or ‘same-sex marriage.’ I think in our everyday discourse, we should say ‘so-called gay marriage’ or ‘so-called same sex marriage.’ I would encourage politicians, pastors, and people to adopt this simple habit.” (Desiring God blog, “Thoughts on the Minnesota Marriage Amendment”) I’m going to take Piper’s advice.

Abortionists didn’t like the meaning or connotation of their name so they started calling themselves “pro-choice.” Calling themselves by a different name didn’t change, however, who they are: killers of babies—that’s what the word abortion means. Homosexuals did the same thing a few years back when they wanted to be known as “gay”; they are so aggressive now and thriving in an age of post-modern relativism some of them are even resurrecting what was once a derogatory slur—calling themselves “queer.” But the word marriage cannot be recreated, redefined, or confiscated. Man doesn’t have the right or the authority. It was defined by God. It is His word and His meaning.

Fools march to win the right to justify their sin. They will continue to do so. The sixth state in our union just recognized and now practices “gay marriage”—strike that, I mean “so-called gay marriage.”

A rose would smell as sweet even if it was called a dandelion. I grant Juliet’s argument. But sin reeks in the nostrils of God regardless what we call it. They may say “O, be some other name”; but the union between two men or two women will always be nothing more than sodomy and fornication.

Every young parent hears it. It goes something like this: “Enjoy these years with your kids, it will go quick.” Its not that I didn’t believe them when they told me; it’s just that I didn’t realize how fast quick is!

Our eldest received his diploma last week. It was a sad/glad moment. It was time for him to leave high school (glad). But I also know that means the day for him to leave home draws nigh (sad). Is he ready? Have I prepared him? What lessons have I forgotten to impart? These are the questions that go through my mind as I watch him walk into the stadium in cap, tassel, and gown. When his row stands, I raise the camera. I want to capture the moment. The sad/glad emotions well up again. As he approaches the stage to hear his name, shake the hand, and receive the scroll; I whisper the questions again: Is he ready? Have I prepared him? What lessons have I forgotten to impart?

In addition to his, I sat through two other graduation ceremonies this spring. I heard some thoughtful speeches by class speakers and valedictorians. As I recall, their messages were similar: appreciate the past, enjoy the present, and embrace the future. There is nothing wrong with that; just that the platitudes some times had too much sugar. But as I sat there, I was haunted by those three questions: Is he ready? Have I prepared him? What lessons have I forgotten to impart?

I am a proud father of a gifted son. I thank God for him every day and like Job, plead that God would forgive and watch over him (Job 1:5). I know his weaknesses and sins; I am familiar with them. Many of them are mine; unintended lessons from me.

But those questions, what of those questions? There are fewer opportunities now. He won’t be at our dinner table as much. He won’t be watching the game from the couch with me many more times. I won’t hear the ball bounce on the backyard court that much longer.

What is it I want him to know? Where were the holes in our parenting scope and sequence? Without looking for it, God answered at least in part these mulled questions; doing so in my devotional reading. I’m in the Psalter right now. It was Psalm 39’s turn to be read. The answer came in verses 4-6:

Show me, O Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting is my life. You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before You. Each man’s life is but a breath. Man is a mere phantom as he goes to and fro: He bustles about, but only in vain; he heaps up wealth, not knowing who will get it.

As he ushers out, the great big world before him; I want him to know how fleeting it all is. The money, the job, his health, his life; everything—all of it will quickly pass. If he remembers this; he is much more likely to live the kind of God-honoring life God-honoring parents pray for.

And when his son graduates some day; I hope my grandson knows how fleeting life is, too. If he knows, it means I probably got to that one more lesson.