Readings for today: Ezra 1-3, Psalms 45
To be honest, I usually just breeze through the genealogies of the Bible. I don’t spend a ton of time on them. Especially the ones located this deep in the Old Testament. Most of the names are unfamiliar. I don’t feel any connection to them. I don’t know who they are all related to necessarily. It’s hard to draw the family tree here. But today I found myself lingering over the names. Reflecting on names like Parosh and Bani and Hashum and others and wondering who they were and why they bore mention in this list. Clearly they were names of note to the ancient Israelites. People readily recognized by those who would hear these words from Ezra or read this book. Their descendants would return to the land and reclaim their inheritance so it must have been obvious to all which tribe they came from.
Perhaps it’s because I just spent a day burying my father in a small town cemetery in western Nebraska where we are related to many of the people buried there? As I walked among the graves with my children and shared how we were related to the Reslers, Arenz’s, Grossbach’s, and Martins, my children wanted to hear all the stories. They wanted to know what I know about these men and women. Sadly I don’t know much. I don’t know why my great-grandfather died in his fifties. I don’t know why my step grandfather’s first wife died early. I don’t know Fred and Mia other than they are related to the original Dr. H.H. Grossbach. But others I do know. I know Dr. Grossbach headed west from Indiana under the Homestead Act because the community needed a medical doctor. I know Greta, his daughter, played a significant role in the community, building two of the family homes in the town. I know my dad was named after Dorsey Herman. I know I am named after my dad’s brother, Douglas Craig, who tragically died in a drunk driving accident when he was 19. As we stood there, we could all feel our connection to the place. The ground was sacred. It was home in a way that our house never will be. Generations of my family lived and died in this particular area which means our ties run deep.
Now imagine you are an ancient Israelite. Your ties to the Promised Land go all the way back to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and his sons. Your history has been carefully preserved down through the centuries. You’ve resisted intermarriage in order to keep your family line pure as God demanded. Though you’ve been exiled and your home destroyed, you maintained your faith. Now God has raised up Cyrus. A new decree is issued. You can return! You can go home! You can return to your own town! Can you imagine the excitement and the joy? So a census is needed. People need to be reminded of their connections one to another. And as the rolls are read, you hear the names of your ancestors. Those who have gone before you. Those who worked so hard to give you this opportunity.
This is why genealogies are important. They remind us that we are not islands unto ourselves. For good or for ill, we stand on the shoulders of those who came before us. In the best of situations, their hard work provides us with all kinds of opportunity and wealth and privilege. In the worst of situations, their failures create all kinds of obstacles we now have to overcome. Most of our families are a mix of the two of course. Now think about yourself. What kind of legacy will you leave after you die. When your children and your children’s children are visiting your grave, what stories will they share?
Readings for tomorrow: Ezra 4-7, Psalms 46