An Inheritance of Sin?
When I was young, there were many passages in the Bible that I struggled to understand. I strived and wrestled and pleaded for understanding. I chomped at the bit, practically demanding an answer from God, then suffering bitter disappointment when a ready answer was not given. Usually, time and experience would reveal those hidden truths, but youthful impatience is hard to quell, and it’s only in retrospect that I realize how much I needed to grow in order for me to understand.
One particular text that bothered me for many years is found in Numbers 34:18. Moses warns the Israelites: “The LORD is longsuffering and abundant in mercy, forgiving iniquity and transgression; but He by no means clears the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and fourth generation.” I embraced the first part about God’s abundance of mercy, and I was perfectly all right with Him not letting the guilty go, but I couldn’t get past His condemnation of unborn children several generations down the line. It seemed inordinately unfair that a just God would punish innocent children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren for the sins of their progenitors. Yet I truly believed that God is love, so I struggled to reconcile these diametrically opposed perceptions of the same God.
I shelved the problem for many years because I couldn’t find an acceptable explanation, but different incidents over the years laid the foundation for a new understanding. A few years into our marriage, my husband said something that really struck me, “You’re becoming more and more like your mom.” I doubt that I’m the first person to hear that they resemble their parent, in either form or character, but at that time, I did not find his comment to be complimentary. We were in the middle of an argument and I was getting very upset and started raising my voice. My über-composed, exasperatingly laid back husband did not take kindly to my screeching, nor did he swallow my excuse that he was frustrating me to the point where I couldn’t help but yell.
That moment transported me back several decades. I remembered my mom yelling at me and my siblings and us retorting that she didn’t have to yell—that we weren’t deaf. My mom’s defense was always, “You guys make me yell because you don’t listen.” I would then mutter, sotto voce (so as not to get into more trouble), “You can’t make a person yell.” I didn’t literally stop in my tracks at the time, but I did reflect on the incident when I was in a calmer state of mind. There were so many things my parents did that I swore I’d never do when I grew up, and yelling was one of them; yet there I was, yelling away, even though I knew it was wrong.
What has been more revealing and even frightening is that on several occasions over the past year or so, I noticed that my pre-teen daughter would yell at her younger brother and sister (even her older sister, every once in a while) whenever she got angry: “I told you not to go into my room without permission!” or “Stop chewing with your mouth open--it’s disgusting!” The message itself was not usually the problem; it was the delivery. When I first chastised her for yelling at her siblings, it didn’t occur to me that she had picked up the terrible practice from me—after all, I was her mother—it was my duty to yell at my kids to keep them in line, wasn’t it? But each time it happened, it bothered me more and more. In fact, my daughter was yelling at a much younger age than when I started; and I had started yelling at a younger age than my mother had begun yelling at us. Whenever I yelled at my kids, I could almost hear the words in their heads: “You don’t have to yell—we’re not deaf.” Not only had I perpetuated a reprehensible habit to a third generation, but the insidious behavior was kicking in earlier.
I have long-since understood the physical concept of diseased genes being passed down from parent to child, leaving subsequent generations more susceptible to cancer and other chronic health issues. There’s a reason doctors ask for family medical history when diagnosing a patient. It’s a known fact that women who have a first degree relative with breast cancer are several times more likely to get breast cancer themselves. I’ve experienced first-hand (in my family and my husband’s family) how each successive generation suffers from similar, if not the same, diseases as those that took the lives of older relatives. And as family and friends get struck low with cancer and heart disease at ever younger ages, the reality of God’s words from thousands of years ago hit home: the sins of the father will bear fruit in their children. His “visiting the iniquity” of the fathers on future generations is not a curse or a punishment—it is the natural consequence of living a sinful life.
The negative habits that we build over a lifetime are conveyed by nature and nurture to our progeny. We may bear some of the consequences during our lifetimes, but much of the degradations to our bodies and characters will be passed on to the next generation, where they will compound and continue on down the line, unless we act to stop the progression of sin and disease.
Because we have a choice.
We can choose not to yell. We can choose to avoid foods that are detrimental to our health. We can choose to rest our minds and bodies on the Sabbath. We can choose to stop the legacy of sin and replace it with the birthright of Life. That is not to say it is easy. The slippery slope of sin is always easier to slide down. It’s tremendously difficult to swim against the tide, but it’s not impossible and with God’s help, we can do anything (Phil. 4:13).
As a child who truly loves her Father, and a mother who truly loves her children, it is with great hope and a desperation to prevent my children from suffering the consequences of my own sinful life that I prayerfully resolve to stop the buck here: Father, help me to choose to say and do and live a righteous life—not just for my sake, but for the sake of my children and their children, to the third and fourth generation. Thank you for loving us and for Your bountiful mercy. Amen.
Joanne Kim (née Park) is a former editor of the English Church Compass. She is an English teacher (currently on sabbatical), wife of a USAF officer, and mother of four. The “J” Kim family (Jon, Joanne, Joelle, Janelle, Jordan, & Jaira) currently resides in San Antonio, Texas.
Joanne, your article brought home some painful lessons that I need to relearn about being a patient mother. To the outside world, I seem very calm but ask my kids and husband and they will tell you the truth, that I yell AND nag. It seems so much easier to be kinder to others than your own family members. Praise God that we have a better Example than our own faulty parents and that even better still, that our children have a better example to follow than us.
Jane Chung (#1) – May 01, 2013