Recently, someone pointed out to me that I am technically a millennial. I had a hard time understanding that, since I was born before the new millennium, but apparently I fall into the category of pre-millennial, or some such nonsense. Honestly, I have never much cared what my generation was called, because it really didn't matter. Being a pre-millennial or generation "Y" or anything else doesn't change who I am as a person, and besides which, my identity is to be found in Christ, not society's labels.
But all that aside, the practical side of me can see the use of naming generations so that you can more easily address them, and so to all the millennials out there, this post is for you.
Actually, I have noticed that this generation seems to be delighted with anything new: after all, we live in a world full of new technology, new scientific and archaeological discoveries, and new social outlets (i.e. social media). Millennials generally like to try new foods and experience new things, go new places and find new ways of doing things.
But this focus on novelty has a danger:
I read in an article some time back that stated that many millennials are rejecting their parent's antiques and family heirlooms in favor of new, modern furniture from stores like IKEA. Wrapped up in the desire to surround themselves with the new and trendy, these young people are missing out on precious treasures --monetarily and sentimentally.
Maybe it's because I grew up surrounded by antiques and history, but that seems to me like a tragedy. Some of my most prized possessions are things that have been passed down to me from previous generations, and these items give me a way to connect with the past generations by serving as a tangible link to relatives who died long before I was born. (For example, the little hymnal from my ancestor who came across the Oregon Trail.) Some of these hand-me-down heirlooms might be from as recent a generation as my parents, but remind me of stories they or others have told; like the cherry-wood bookcase Daddy made for my Grandma in 7th grade, which was her prized possession for many years before it became mine.
But that's actually not my point. Just as some millennials reject their parent's heritage of physical belongings and miss out on something of value, many of my generation fall into the trap of rejecting their spiritual heritage, trying to make Christianity into something new, or else trying to live the Christian life in a new way. But is that Biblical?
I was struck by a passage today which in turn reminded me of another, and I thought I would share them. Both are from the period in Israel's history where their society had left its spiritual heritage and had become entrenched in idolatry. In the process of warning His people of their impending judgement and exile, God continually reached out to them, sending prophets to warn, but also to call to repentance and a promise of blessing to those who turned to the Lord.
It is in this context that we find Isaiah 58. In the first part of the chapter, God calls out the Israelites who had been claiming to worship Him, but who were doing it in their own way. They were still worshiping outwardly, but just for show. They had rejected the emphasis on holiness of previous generations and were living their lives how they pleased, all the while claiming God's promised blessing but for worship that was not based on a desire to please God.
God's response to these Israelites was to describe how He really wanted to be worshiped: not with the outward only, but with a wholehearted seeking after Him. Then comes a beautiful passage about how God promised to bless those who did turn to Him. Tucked among the descriptions of blessing is verse 12:
"And they that shall be of thee shall build the old waste places: thou shalt raise up the foundations of many generations: and thou shalt be called, The repairers of the breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in."
Those who returned to seeking the Lord from their hearts would not be identified with doing new things or worshiping in a new way, but rather in repairing and restoring the old foundations, walls, and pathways. This verse always reminds me of Jeremiah 6:16, which says,
"Thus saith the Lord, Stand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls..."
Isn't that beautiful? And yet, it is so easy to get caught up in the busyness and excitement of the "new" to the neglect of the "old paths" that bring "rest for your souls".
The heartbreaking thing about this verse is that it doesn't end there. At the end of the Lord's declaration of how to find rest are the sad words: "But they said, We will not walk therein".
As a whole, Israel had become very wicked. In fact, Jeremiah 6 describes them as being unashamed and even unable to blush for shame. --Sounds like our society, doesn't it? But the way out isn't in finding new ways to do things, or rethinking how we worship God: The way out is really just to turn around, look for the old paths, and return to how God designed Christianity to be: a reflection of Christ to the wicked world around us.
So, for the millennials reading this, or for readers of any generation, my challenge to you is simple:
"ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls"
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